#with her half-brother and it was all her fault. like if only she had been stronger then she could've stayed with him-

[terminuslucis]

Story time! A little bit about my tiny Silver's family history.

It's a little sad.

From the start, it was clear that little Silver resembled his father the most. Nobody was quite sure where his pale coloring came from, but that was fine. Genetics didn't always make sense.

His parents noticed early on that their son had some sort of magic. Odd things happened around him, and sometimes he laughed at an empty corner of the room. Nobody else in their family had magic, as far as they knew. Then again, there was nobody to ask. Neither of them had parents left. The only family was his father's little sister.

Maybe his gift was why his hair and eyes were so different. Whatever the case, they would figure it out as he got older.

That never happened. Before the child turned three years old, his parents were in an accident. At the time, he was in the care of his aunt.

From her perspective, Silver waved at the door and wandered off to play in his room. A few hours later, she learned that her brother and his wife died. From his perspective, his parents came home and, some time later, his aunt started crying.

As his only living relative, his aunt was determined to look after Silver. It wasn't easy. She changed jobs often, chasing promotions and better schedules, so they moved a lot. Silver lost count of how many schools he went to. He didn't mind moving. There was always someone to play with, and his family was together.

Over time, his aunt realized that Silver was a little odder than she originally thought. It wasn't limited to the dishes moving on their own or his knack for knowing too much. His antics weren't just the rich imagination of a lonely boy. He saw things that she couldn't. He asked about things that shouldn't exist. He talked to her brother.

She tried to let it slide. She hated hearing only one half of a conversation with the only family she had, but Silver still had his parents, in a way...

In a way that she couldn't...

The boy grew up. The older he got, the more he resembled his parents, and the more his aunt hurt. She kept quiet about that. Of course he would look like his parents. It wasn't his fault that she missed them.

Meanwhile, little Silver saw his parents as clear as day. He knew they were dead, and his aunt was sad about that, but death didn't mean much to him. How could death be sad to someone who could look it in the eyes and hold its hand? But, when he mentioned them, sometimes his aunt looked like she wanted to cry.

Slowly, he stopped talking about the things his aunt couldn't see. He also stopped asking about things he heard without her saying them. He didn't want to make her sad. Over time, the gap between how they saw the world widened. His parents' ghosts could do very little to help.

Shortly after Silver started high school, his aunt caught a lucky break. They moved again, but that would be the last time. Silver made friends at his new school and their little family was finally stable.

And so, Silver mentioned his parents for the first time in years.

"Dad wants to say something."

His voice was almost a whisper as he braced for her reaction.

"What is it?" she asked.

"They have to leave soon. He wants to thank you for looking after me." He didn't know why his father said it like that when his parents had always been around, but he was asked to relay those exact words.

His aunt nodded, biting her lip before running to her room. She didn't say a word, but he heard everything regardless.

There was bittersweet relief, knowing her brother was with her for all that time, frustration and doubt as she questioned why Silver stopped talking about them in the first place, anger at herself because she knew it was her fault, and the sorrow of knowing that her family would be gone for good.

Silver had left many people over the last several years. To him, it felt as if his parents were simply the ones moving away this time. Why was it so different for his aunt? Why did his parents' smiles look so sad?

The day his parents' souls left, his aunt cried for the first time in years. Once again, Silver stopped talking about things she couldn't see, but only because they were no longer in the house. It seemed that last "goodbye" had changed things.

No, that was wrong. His parents said "goodbye" because things had already changed. They left because they knew everything would be okay.

[anthromimicry]

where do you carry your pain?

your arms.

you have tried to hold onto what is dear to you, only for it to be wrenched from your hands...

tagged by: @divingdownthehole!

tagging: @frostise, @redvived, @dispatched, @twcfaces, @vulpesse, and anyone else who might like to do this quiz!

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. ��W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

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[atyourmerci]

To think I’d know it all

Therapist!ellie (read pt.1 here)

X

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, power imbalance don’t fuck your therapist, talks of degradation, lots of praise, Ellie watches r! masturbate, thigh riding, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: this is for @catfern if she likes it I die happy. Sorry this took so long I got a little overzealous, yet still it feels rushed so I’m dropping this and disappearing! I promise I’ll be going back to working on reqs now.

X

You think you know yourself, your highs, desires, triggers, your inner most depravities. but you don’t. Maybe it wasn’t your fault- the bliss that came from blatant ignorance so bitter sweet on your tongue. So comfortable in your own escaped reality, why would you try to face it now?

Half of the time you were lying to Dr. Williams. A white lie here, slipping through the cracks of reality by omitting the truth there. It’s not like she couldn’t read you like a book- she knew everything. Things you had never thought of, mysteries to you, solved in seconds by her.

You never gave her much of your true issues, deadbeat mommy leaving you at six for her new boyfriend that could be your brother. Never feeling academically competent, body issues, all the bullshit troubles any girl could dream of beating herself down over.

Thats what you told yourself she knew, the surface, pretty, palpable, easy to swallow, desirable.

But Ellie didn’t want palpable, she craved the chaos of your destruction. She wanted to watch the rage play out, dangerously close to her integrity. She wanted to pull the dirty guts out to feast on. Every last piece of you, torn out, then you would be easy enough to swallow for her.

-

The air only grew thicker. Suffocating your windpipes to choke on, making sure you felt every particle of desperation.

The session after she had cancelled. You thought she’d keep this up, realizing she had taken it too far, falling into her desires you had coaxed her into.

But yet there you were, back in your usual seat, legs crossed, throat dry as it eats at the hot pressure in the air. The buzz of a ring in your ear as you sit there silently. To talk of it, to progress, to regress back into the unknown- the lies, the omissions.

Would she guide you- like she did last time? would she make you do it yourself, pathetic and begging, longing for the validation that she did it for herself, even if only for a little bit.

“How have you been?” A formality, a principle, a greeting. She had to say it- what would she say outside the four walls of this prison?

“Alright,” came out as an unwanted sigh, subconscious as your body tells the truth before you can cut it off at the source.

“No witty comeback? did something happen with the girl?” Ellie furrows her brows at your change of body language. She takes note of how closed off it is, not desiring of visitors. You watch as the veins in her muscles twitch in her tank. rid of the cover of her modest blazer, shoulders now under the impression of your gaze.

“I stopped seeing her, Im seeing an ex,” you didn’t have to say that, could have left it at the end of your farce of a hookup ending. But this time it wasn’t a lie, you truly were fucking that cunt.

“Oh. Anything serious?” Ellie tenses, eager to unpack the dichotomy of the new woman. Why did you start seeing your ex again, what was she tied to, what did you have to gain from anyone but her?

“Just sex.” you shrug off. This was the truth.

“What drove you back to her specifically?” Ellie goes to write it down but once again find herself unable to find the words- lost in the craving the understanding of your mind selfishly.

“Comfortability- is that what you want to hear?” you taunt her, driving your eyes into a squint. What was her motive- what was your own?

“Well something in particular brought you back to her, no?” she pries, not letting you take control of the conversation. If she had to drag it out of you herself she would.

“She knows how I like it,” your attempt at intimidation, confidence in your own pleasure. Nothing but another beautiful farce covered in thorns. A hint of a smirk paints the doctor’s lips, mean and tortured.

‘Oh you think you know yourself so well you beautiful fool’ Ellie thinks to herself. You wouldn’t know satisfaction if it hit you in the face, but she was to help you- that was her job right? “And what is it…that you like?” Shrinking her face into a scowl, head tilted to the side, watching how your body twitches at nothing. How pliable could she diminish you to without touching you- she couldn’t, of course.

“She gets rough with me,” so knowing, as if you were breed for it. A toy of sorts, helpless under the hands of a predator.

“What entails rough?” Ellie probes, getting her scalpel out, ready to dissect your oblivion. Her flesh scorching with fervor as she coaxes more out of you. She had found her vessel.

“I dunno… hitting, tying me up, stuff of that nature.”

“What else?” You’d never know how eager she was, calm in her disposition, from what the eye can make out. Inside she pulses, her mind eating away at itself. To bite is still to touch- Instinctual and destructive. A morbid curiosity to drown herself in, held at the bottom of your mind with the weights of her own scrutiny.

“You wanna know that she calls me a fuckin’ whore?”

“Why do you think you like the degradation?” Ellie shifts forward, getting to the edge of her seat, splaying her forearms onto her thighs. A pissing contest, cruel and depraved.

“Probably my godforsaken mother- what are you get-“ you begin to question before you’re interrupted.

“Good girl.” Ellie coos, shifting her weight back into the seat, her forearms resting on the armrests as her legs are lazily parted. A test she knew she’d win- she knew you best didn’t she? Playing you like a puppet, taking matters into her own hands, unethical as it may be.

So abrupt you’re taken out of a haze. An uncalculated whine coming out of your throat, you attempt to cover it with a halfass cough but the damage was done- you were caught. Ellie just watches as you squirm, skin growing hot as she watches you knowingly, smug and cunning as you tip toe the ledge. “w-what?”

Ellie’s grin only widens, “that was a fair assumption, aware… you’re doing so well already.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks, fire blazing in your chest ready to burst into ashes laid out like puzzle pieces neatly for her. A new sensation, uncharted and dense. Immensely ridged to obtain- the feeling of worth, accomplishment at its peak. Would you ever be able to fulfill the demand?

Ignore it, lie, get out of it.

“I like getting when she treats me like shit- gets me off…” you attempt, eyes casted downwards to your sweaty palms soaked from the heat of the air.

“No you don’t.”

“How would you know,” you laugh her off. You’ve built your wall, so high that not even you could see over it.

“Sure you want to be told what to do. But you also want to be acknowledged for your work. How pretty you look opened up. How good you are for taking more, taken whats asked of you. Don’t you?” Ellie doesn’t skip a beat, like shes rehearsed it, dwelled on your inner most necessities. The doctor asks but you both know it’s not a question, rather an admission of verity.

“Doctor Williams, please-“ the impending doom of your fate- the tip of the iceberg chiseling down each second. A ticking time bomb sure to go off. Your body pulses, heart racing. How much more could you take?

“It’s okay…tell me whats wrong” Ellie coos doe eyed, so forgiving in a breeding ground for destruction. A flower blooming in the midst of a tornado. To talk, to proceed, to regress.

“I cant control myself- listening to you…like that,” fist turning white grappling onto the armrests, breath shaky and wavering. Your hips subconsciously rocking into the thick leather of the doctor’s chair- a taste of salvation at any cost.

“Be a good girl and show me the mess you made on my seat,” a reckless invitation- one with grave consequences. Nonetheless too sweet not to bite, sink her teeth into and rip the flesh.

Shameful, degrading enticement. Shaky hands grasping the button of your jeans. How much time did you have left? What if someone walks in? Both your jeans and panties come off in one fowl swoop- fallen to the warm carpet on her floor. You wince as the naked, seeping flesh of your cunt reaches the leather, “Fuck.”

Ellie just watches, amused, stone faced as she understands the specimen. The way you hips rut without you letting them says more than your words, “Give yourself what you need.”

Your body comes back into consciousness with the approval for more. Give her whats shes asked of you. Nimble fingers beginning to circle the swell of your clit- the reoccurring ache of disappointment- the fate of inadequacy.

“Atta girl- just like that. Does it feel good?” the doctor mutters so sweetly- so proud of her specimen. She knew you needed it- the approval, the praise of accomplishment.

Your breath shortens and you pulse around nothing. Driving aimless circles around the bud as your head cocks back. Your cunt begs of her, pleads to be full of her- if shed ever let you have it. “n-need you, please Ellie.”

The doctor had never heard you speak of her name. Too casual for barriers, too comfortable for the tension. Something in her own mind switches at the words- the way they rolled off your tongue like you had said it many times before. Where had you said it, to whom? If not anyone at all. “I cant help you…but I cant stop you from helping yourself.”

Lust was a sin, but gluttony was a mere punishment. Overzealous in nature, depraved and lawless in practice. A reckless invitation- one with grave consequences. A walk of shame, magnets finding their match. She had made your bed, you were to lie in it.

Ellies hands on her armrest, sure to not budge- to uphold her ethics, principles responsible of her own will. She lets you climb her body, mount yourself up top her lap, positioning your cunt on her thigh.

The air. Thick, all consuming- so close, breathing her air, the breath of someone wiser, more understanding of your own mind. What a dangerous game, everything you need right there, yet taboo to drain every last bit of her. An inch given, a mile lacking. She keeps her eyes trained on you, her subject in testing.

“It’s okay, fuck yourself on me. You’ve been so good.” letting your cunt rake up and down the scratchy fabric of her slacks, hands pinned behind your back on your own accord.

The bubble in your stomach already ready to overflow, choking back whimpers drown in by your teeth. She made it so easy- she didn’t even have to fucking touch you.

“Let go. Let yourself come,” the doctor demands, she knew what you were doing. Ellie didn’t care how pathetic it was.

“I can-t not, not yet,” sweat dripping down your flustered face as your sticky white slick coats her covered thigh. The sight was so vulgar in Ellie’s eyes, watching you panting as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Thoughts of what she’d do in another world without laws.

“Do what you’re told.”

[sansaorgana]

— STILL PURE

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Feyd yells at his daughter for interrupting him at work. His wife confronts him about his behaviour as she tries to explain to the little Countess that her father was never taught how to express love.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Feyd is already the Baron in this fic but I assumed women cannot inherit on Giedi Prime so the daughter is "only" a Countess while her younger brother is a Na-Baron. I used my headcanon that if half-Harkonnen children have hair, then they're white because they lack pigment. I also wanted her to have big black Harkonnen eyes so badly... Basically, I wanted Feyd's daughter to look like this:

WORD COUNT — 2,990

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

STILL PURE

Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen was circling around the big table in the conference room where the huge orb of Giedi Prime had been replaced with Arrakis’ one as one of his advisors was explaining the difficult situation regarding the spice production. The new wave of Fremen rebels who worshipped the long gone and deceased Muad’Dib decided to continue their idol’s legacy as they sabotaged the spice production controlled by The Harkonnen forces. The Governor of Arrakis was slowly losing control over the situation and Feyd would rather avoid going there himself. He was needed on Giedi Prime – especially now when The Emperor was on his deathbed. He had to be around in case something important would happen and everyone knew The Baron had his eyes set on the Imperial Throne. Feyd had to choose a new Governor of Arrakis or provide the current one with good advice, hoping for the Fremen problem to disappear soon. It was worrying him because it was giving him a bad reputation at the moment for having problems on Arrakis – it could make some leaders of the great houses to think he was not worthy enough to become the next Emperor.

Feyd’s hands were clasped behind his back as he circled like a shark and all his advisors looked down, taking a step back whenever he approached them. They knew his temper would only rise when he was angered whenever he would experience problems of such nature when it came to reigning over The Harkonnen properties.

“What does the Fremen leader say? Stilgar? That was his name?” Feyd barked at one of the scared advisors.

“Stilgar says he has no control over the cultists. He does not support their actions. He wants nothing but peace, my Lord,” the man bowed his head.

“How bad is it? The most important thing so far is to keep the problem on Arrakis a secret,” Feyd hummed to himself.

“Five percent of the decrease in the spice production income,” the other advisor answered. “Not bad, but can be noticeable in the amount we export.”

“We shall export some of our own private reserves to cover the loss. In the meantime, we have to deal with the cultists,” Feyd decided, already annoyed at the fact he had to sacrifice his own supplies just to cover up the careless governing of Arrakis which was not his fault. “Send more troops there, the operation should be classified confidential. Threaten Lord Volonov to take care of it. He’s got a month before I replace him with someone more capable…”

Quiet pat pat pat sound coming from the corridor was becoming louder and louder until the black doors finally opened slightly and the guard standing by them spotted a pair of two big black eyes staring up at him. 

“My Lord,” he tried to catch The Baron’s attention but Feyd had his back turned on him as he angrily explained the details of the operation to his advisors.

Little Countess Sevina Harkonnen gave the guard puppy eyes as she struggled with the heavy doors. She wanted to come inside and he didn’t know what to do. He was aware that his Lord Baron did not want to be interrupted but he didn’t want to close the door in the girl’s face either. He peeked outside but there was no servant around and The Baroness was not there either. He decided it would be better for the girl to come inside instead of letting her roam around the fortress alone.

She smiled widely at him and jumped inside the room happily as her white hair bounced. She was lucky enough to inherit most of her mother’s looks although her skin was paler, her hair lacked pigment and her pupils were nothing but two completely big black orbs – those were the eyes even her father did not have but they were a result of the pollution her mother’s body had been exposed to on Giedi Prime at the time of her pregnancy.

Not realising how tense the atmosphere in the room was, she approached her father as all the advisors and servants were making wide eyes at her. She stood behind The Baron and pulled on his shirt to make him turn around.

At first, he flinched at the odd feeling of someone pulling him. Who would dare to do that? He turned around quickly with an angry expression on his face but then he looked down and spotted his little daughter. She startled a bit at the sight of his annoyance but she kept staring at him with her big black eyes filled with love and excitement.

“What are you doing here?” Feyd barked at her.

“Can you play with me, daddy?” She pleaded with a big grin.

A few lords smirked at that and Feyd’s jaw clenched. Not only had she interrupted him but also humiliated him.

“Can’t you fucking see that I’m busy?!” He lashed out at her and she took a step back as her eyes filled with tears and betrayal. “Get out of here!” He pointed at the doors.

They opened at that very moment as the nanny entered the room and looked around, surprised at the sight of scared faces and the little Countess being in the centre of attention.

“There you are!” She opened her arms at the sight of the girl. “I’ve told you not to interrupt your father, he’s in the middle of a meeting,” she reminded nervously as the girl ran up to her and hid her face in the folds of her skirt. “Forgive me, my Lord,” the nanny bowed her head at Feyd-Rautha.

“You’re useless,” he drawled. “Get out.”

“Y-yes, my Lord,” the woman held Sevina’s hand and walked out as quickly as possible.

You left the nursery where your son na-baron had just fallen asleep. On your way back to your chambers, you passed by the doors leading to your daughter’s room and you froze at the muffled sound of sobbing. Concerned, you decided to enter without knocking.

Little Sevina was crying on her bed as the scared nanny tried to calm her down by rubbing her back and shushing her.

“What is going on?” You asked as the doors closed behind you.

“M-my Lady Baroness,” the nanny stood up and straightened herself to bow down slightly.

“What happened? Why is she crying?” You asked her in an accusing tone.

“I… I lost her out of my sight when we were playing earlier today, I’m sorry… I found the young Countess in her father’s conference room. She had interrupted The Baron during a council… I think he lashed out at her, my Lady…” the woman tried to explain nervously as her hands shook.

“You’re useless,” you sighed and she widened her eyes. “Get out, I’ll deal with that myself,” you pointed at the doors and she bowed down once again before leaving quickly.

You approached the bed and sat on the edge of it as Sevina raised her head to look at you. Your heart squeezed in your chest at the sight of her cheeks covered in tears.

“What happened, sweet darling?” You asked her gently while you caressed her back.

“Why doesn’t daddy love me?” She asked with so much pain and sincerity in her tiny, shaky voice that you nearly cried yourself.

You knew it wasn’t true. Feyd-Rautha loved his daughter. Even though he had been a bit disappointed she was not a son in the beginning – he had only said not to worry about it much; that the boy would come next. He had been treating Sevina as if she was made of glass in the first months of her life, so scared of accidentally hurting her because hurt was all he knew.

“Oh, Sevina, don’t think that…” You sighed and leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Daddy loves you so much,” you assured her but of course she wasn’t convinced. “He would kill and die for you, little girl,” you added.

“I don’t want him to kill and die for me, mummy,” Sevina sobbed as those were the concepts she was too young to grasp. “I just want daddy to play with me.”

“He doesn’t know how to play, Sevina,” you fixed her ruffled hair while trying to explain calmly. “He didn’t have a mummy or daddy when he was your age. The way I kiss you or hug you and play with you… He has never had it, darling,” you felt a few tears streaming down your cheeks. You were angry at your husband for yelling at your daughter and making her feel unloved but you were also angry at all the suffering that he had gone through in his past.

There were scars and damages that could never be undone, no matter how much you loved someone.

“And you’re big enough to know that daddy shouldn’t be interrupted when he’s working. You know that he tends to get angry more easily then,” you reminded her. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted daddy to play with me,” she snuggled closer to you and you kissed the top of her head, rubbing her tiny arms with your thumbs and cradling her softly to calm her down.

Feyd had been back in your chambers already when you entered. You froze at the sight of him, irritated. However, he seemed to act as usual.

“Five percent,” he snapped at you, although not angrily. “We will have to replace the loss with our own supply so the other lords don’t realise we are expecting problems on Arrakis. That stupid son of a bitch Volonov can’t handle a few cultists and…”

“I don’t care about any of that,” you interrupted him and turned your back on him to approach your vanity table and sit by it, pretending to be more interested in reapplying the powder.

“What?” Feyd was visibly surprised as he watched you in disbelief. You had always been a support for him, especially in difficult times. You both had been plotting on how to take over the Imperial Throne and now you weren’t interested in something as important as the problems with harvesting spice on Arrakis? It didn’t make sense to him.

You ignored him and focused on brushing your hair now, watching him from the corner of your eye in the reflection of the mirror of your vanity table. He approached you, hesitantly.

“What do you mean you’re not interested?” He tilted his head as he leaned in, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t even flinch.

“I’ve just spent an hour calming down Sevina. You yelled at her,” you eventually looked up to look deep into his eyes. He took a deep breath in, irritated.

“She should have learnt by now not to interrupt me,” Feyd straightened his back and walked away. “She’s spoiled,” he added. “Knows nothing about discipline. It’s your fault.”

“She’s a little girl,” you turned around. “You can’t expect military habits from her. She’s your daughter, Feyd.”

“She’s lucky I only yelled. If I interrupted my uncle as a child like that, I’d be punished!” He raised his voice at you, frustrated that you were defending your daughter and making a problem out of something that he considered to be normal.

You hated it when he would raise his voice at you. You stood up angrily and yelled as well.

“Oh, so you think she should be raised the same way you were?!” You asked. “Alright then! Go to her room, grab her by the neck and flog her back with a whip just because she wanted to play with her father!” You pointed at the doors furiously as your eyes were burning with wrath. “Go on! I dare you.”

But Feyd didn’t even move. His jaw was clenched as he was staring at you speechlessly.

“Go. What are you waiting for?” You kept pushing him. “Go on.”

You kept looking into his eyes with so much intensity he eventually gave up and looked down, awkwardly as the guilt started to creep in. You won.

“You rejected her. She thinks you don’t love her,” your voice calmed down but it was still vicious. “And I was assuring her that you do but it felt as if I was assuring myself, too,” you added, just to hurt him. “I can’t stand to look at you, Feyd-Rautha,” you drawled and approached the doors to leave him alone but not without striking the final blow. “I can’t believe I wanted to give you children so badly,” you turned your head to look at him as he looked up, surprised at your words, “because you don’t deserve them.”

The doors opened in front of you and you walked out to go back to your daughter.

You were sitting on the black fluffy carpet in the middle of Sevina’s room. She was on your lap, with her tiny arms around your neck, cuddling you. There were toys scattered all around the floor but she wanted to take a break for the loving cuddles. She was very unusual for a half-Harkonnen and you were very aware of the fact she was making most people around feel uncomfortable.

Not only her father but everyone in the fortress were stiff around sweet little Sevina who was so full of life and curiosity, always wanting to hug everyone – even servants and guards. Wherever she went, there was a sound of laughter and a sudden feeling of warmth. Countess Sevina Harkonnen was the very first little girl living in that fortress in a long time and she was so different from all its inhabitants. She was too young to know that she was a daughter of Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen – a man feared all over the Empire. That her bloodline was cursed with death and violence. She was still pure and innocent. Perhaps she was a living proof that The Harkonnens were not born this way after all – but they were made in the endless cycle of abusive upbringing. You did not want the same fate for her. You knew she would have to get rougher with time but you hoped she would still remain gentle, too.

The doors to her room opened and you looked up. At the sight of your husband, you protectively put your arm around your little girl. You doubted that he wanted to do what you had angrily suggested before but you wanted to make sure he wouldn’t anyway. Sevina stiffened at the sight of her father and clung to you. It brought you pain to realise that at that very moment she was afraid of him.

“Sevina, we have to talk,” Feyd stood above you two as he started in a serious tone. You gave him a scolding look and your little girl hid her face in the crook of your neck, hiding. “You know perfectly well not to interrupt me while I’m working.”

Long silence occurred. You could see Feyd’s struggle as he had no idea what to do to fix this situation between him and his daughter.

“Sevina, apologise to daddy,” you looked down and she looked up with tears in her big black eyes. “You shouldn’t have interrupted him and you know that, darling,” your voice was soft and calm and she sniffed.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” Sevina turned her body around to face him but she refused to look at him.

“Now, you apologise to Sevina for being mean,” you looked up at your husband and you spotted panic in his eyes. “Now,” you insisted sternly.

“I’m sorry for being mean to you,” Feyd crouched down to be on her level. She hesitantly looked at him. “Can I get a hug, too?” He asked and his voice broke a tiny bit. 

Slitting someone’s throat open was less awkward and unusual to him than to ask for a hug. Your heart ached for him but you were an adult capable of understanding his patterns. Sevina was not. 

Her heart was big, though, and she loved her father, so she would forgive him everything. She nodded her head with a happy smile and ran into his arms to squeeze him tight. Tears pricked your eyes at the sight.

“I love you, darling,” Feyd whispered quietly with his cheek pressed to the top of her head. “I would kill for you. I would die for you,” he confessed.

“But she doesn’t want any of that,” you explained. “She just wants you to spend time with her.”

“Is that right?” He looked down at his little girl and she looked up with her puppy eyes as she nodded. Her tiny hands reached out to cup his face.

“I love you, daddy,” she assured him. “Can you play with me?”

“I don’t know how to play, I’m sorry,” he admitted with guilt in his voice.

“I will teach you,” she hugged him again.

Feyd put his arms around his little girl and pulled her closer. You crawled on the carpet to give him a hug, too. You could feel that he was slightly trembling, so you leaned in to place a kiss on his temple as your hand caressed his head soothingly.

“It’s not weak to show affection,” you reminded him in a whisper. “I’ve never loved you more than when you are like this.”

Feyd laid his eyes on you. They were filled with a mix of pain, guilt and relief. At the end of the day, the only approval he was seeking was yours. You had him wrapped around your little finger.

“So, how do you want to play?” He asked Sevina as he caressed her white hair with admiration. She clapped her hands cheerfully.

“I want to be a Princess,” her eyes sparkled. “And you’ll be my guard.”

Feyd chuckled at that, showing off his black teeth. Sevina giggled as she had never found them scary.

“Soon enough, my darling one, you’ll be a real Princess,” he assured her.

MASTERLIST

[heliads]

wouldn't you love to love her? - jack hughes

The New Jersey Devils have a new social media intern. Jack Hughes is determined not to care at all, except for the fact that he does.

masterlist

“We’re getting a new social media intern,” Luke remarks offhandedly.

Jack tries not to roll his eyes. He’s not sure he succeeds. For as long as he’s been at the Devils, there have been perhaps dozens of new social media interns, one after another in a chain of pretty girls shoving phones into his face. Every time, it’s always the same. Another girl, fresh from college or in between jobs, asking him and the others to learn dances or take part in trends. Luke will flirt with the intern. Dawson too, probably. Even Jack, when he gets bored. Then, the internship will be up in a month or two, and they’ll get another one. Prettier, maybe, or funnier. And the cycle will begin again.

It’s not like he can really blame them, either. The hockey industry is precious, even for people who aren’t playing. If these girls want in, an internship is a great way to start. Any entry post’s a good one if it gets you where you want. Only, social media’s a pain. Jack came here to play hockey, not be in a dozen new photos and videos a day. It drives him crazy sometimes, or all the time.

So, when his brother tells him they’re getting another intern, he really couldn’t care less. Luke, more prone to fits of passion over the latest girl in Devils red, is still staring at him wide eyed, waiting for a reaction, so Jack rolls his eyes and gives him one.

“Good,” he says dully. “It’s been too long since I saw a phone camera shoved in my face. Can’t wait.”

Luke groans. “Come on, man. They’re fun, don’t give me that bullshit again. Besides, I saw you trying to buy the last one drinks.”

Jack can’t argue with this. He had been trying. It was something to do. “Won’t do it this time. I’ll leave that for you.”

Luke heaves another dramatic sigh. Jack wants to do something to stop the oppressive judgment, so he does, snatching the hat off Luke’s head and shoving it towards his mouth. Luke, predictably, nearly falls out of his chair and starts squawking indignantly. Jack just chuckles and gets up from his seat, heading towards the door. They’ve been idling in one of the cafes in the massive arena where they practice, called there early for business stuff that ended up getting delayed. Meetings always run late, and now Jack has the rare feeling of tardiness not actually being his fault.

He heads down the hall towards the locker rooms, ready at last for practice. Luke follows a few paces behind him, still complaining, something about saving violence for the ice. Bullshit, obviously. Jack does what he wants, where he wants. Hasn’t Luke figured that out by now?

Jack steals a glance over his shoulder just to rub in the injury. Luke meets his gaze and glowers, still pissy from almost taking a nose dive off his chair, but all of a sudden his eyes widen at something in front of them. Jack whips around just in time to collide with someone exiting one of the offices.

It’s not an accidental almost-impact, either, this is a complete disaster. Papers go flying. Jack manages to keep his balance, but the victim of his distraction is worse off. He has to fling out both hands to steady them, catching at their arms at the elbow before they fall over. A dozen apologies rise to his lips, but Jack only gets through about half of them before he actually looks at the person he’s just bumped into– and look, indeed, he does.

Jack has just run into a girl his age, and a very pretty girl at that. He gets lost in her eyes without even meaning to, captivated by the way the light shines in them as she opens her mouth and says, “What the hell are you doing?”

Jack blinks in surprise, feeling like he’s just been abruptly pulled out of a dream. “Huh?”

The girl stares at him like he’s crazy. “Why are you holding onto me?”

Too late, Jack realizes he never actually let go of her when he was trying to steady her. He snatches his hands away, the sinking feeling settling in that he actually has no idea how long he was standing there, captivated. No wonder this girl thinks he’s insane. This random guy comes up, runs into her, then silently holds her in his arms for what’s probably more than just a second or two? Yeah, that’s crazy in anyone’s books.

“Sorry,” Jack says again. They look at each other warily for a moment longer, then collectively, both gazes drop to the papers spilled across the ground.

Immediately, Jack dives for them, trying to gather as many as he can. He springs up again, and, not trusting himself to say anything that isn’t stupid, just awkwardly holds out the papers until she takes them. The girl gives him one last disbelieving glance, then walks purposefully past him. Jack turns and watches her go, wondering why he feels vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t stopped to talk longer. He didn’t even get her name.

Raucous laughter breaks out the second the girl disappears around a corner. Belatedly, Jack remembers that Luke has witnessed the whole thing, which is just great. The last thing Luke needs is more ammunition for making fun of him.

“That was, like, the least smooth thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Luke chokes out. “What the fuck was that?”

Heat flares into Jack’s cheeks. “Shut up,” he says, turning back to continue walking down the hallway.

Luke, however, is unwilling to let go of the horrific blunder. He trots up to walk by Jack’s side, regardless of how much Jack tries to pick up the pace. “I mean, Jesus. Way to make an entrance. Poor girl’s probably going to log that with HR.”

“Shut up,” Jack repeats through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen you do worse in front of fans.”

“We’re not talking about me right now, we’re talking about you,” Luke says happily. “I’m so telling Quinn about this.”

“You are not,” Jack warns, but even after many threats of serious violence, he’s not entirely convinced that his older brother won’t hear about this.

Jack almost manages to put the whole thing out of his mind until he and the others are hanging out in the locker room later that day. They’re all dressed, but their coach wanted a few words before they hit the ice, apparently something bureaucratic that Jack can’t wait to forget.

Instead of being introduced to a new friend of the owner or some wealthy donor, however, Coach announces that they’ll be meeting their new social media intern. Online presence is crucial for sponsors, apparently, and the Devils need to up their game. So they say. Jack thinks it’s a lot of nonsense, and is fully prepared to treat it as such until their coach beckons the new intern into the room and Jack realizes he knows her. This isn’t a stranger, someone he can ignore without another thought. This is the pretty girl Jack just ran into earlier today, and she’s the one in charge of most of his Internet footprint.

Great.

Across the room, Luke is grinning ear to ear. This is so not what Jack wanted. The coach is saying something about how they’ll all be pulled one by one today for introductions and a few quick videos that can be parceled out during the next week or so. Usually, they would ask Nico first, captain rights and all that, but they need him to advise on some drills, so they go for the next best– Jack himself.

They’ll be filming TikToks or whatever a few halls over so as to not distract anyone, so Jack makes his way over with no small amount of trepidation. She hadn’t seemed so excited to meet him earlier, but maybe she’ll have forgotten who he was. It was a fast exchange. Maybe this means nothing at all, and they will have a great meeting, and he could even get her number or something. Yeah, not a problem.

The girl is setting up a phone on a stand when Jack shows up. She glances once at him as he approaches, then nods. “Oh, we’re starting with Mr. Observant. Cool.”

Jack feels his face turn a bright scarlet. “I’m not– I’m sorry about that. Honestly. I just didn’t see you.”

“That’s fine,” the girl says with a listless wave of her hand. “It was funny. I just thought hockey players would have more reflexes or something, I don’t know. Anyway, what’s your name, again?”

This is a simple question. It really is. Yet for some reason, Jack finds himself bothered. He’s been with the team for a while now, had that A on his uniform for a while now, and maybe he shouldn’t, but he’s gotten comfortable with his reputation. People know who he is. He’s recognized on the street, asked for photos while he’s getting coffee, all of that. And now this girl– this intern– is pretending like she doesn’t know who he is, and insulting his reflexes to boot?

“Jack,” Jack replies tersely. “Are you going to tell me your name, or should I just guess?”

“Y/N,” the girl answers him. “What do you do on the ice except run into people?”

“I play hockey,” Jack deadpans. “What else do you want me to say?”

Y/N just smiles at him, the picture of innocence. “Your position? This is supposed to be an introduction, isn’t it? I have to make sure I have a good picture of the team.”

Fine. Fine. Jack can be civil. He’s going to play along and then he’s going to leave and make somebody else deal with her.

“Yeah, position. I'm an alternate captain, a center. Left wing. That matters.” He feels like he’s rambling. This is stupid. He’s stupid. He never does this.

“Sure it does,” Y/N says, one eyebrow raised. “Do you have to tell everyone you’re cool or just the interns?”

“Huh?” Jack asks. “I’m not– I’m just talking.”

Y/N nods. “I’m sure you do. Talking and hockey, that’s impressive. I can see why the Devils wanted you.”

“Your team spirit needs some work,” Jack notes. “Why’d they hire you, your winning personality?”

“That, and I’m wonderful at making infographics,” Y/N informs him breezily.

“I bet they’re terrible,” Jack says on instinct. “Clashing colors and all that. Can you even draw a straight line?”

Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I don’t know, can you shoot on goal without getting injured?”

Jack takes a step forward on instinct before he remembers that he cannot fight social media interns and backs down. Still, the anger simmers in his head so bad he’s not sure if the red all around him is for the Devils or just the film of rage clouding his eyes.

This isn’t good for him. His team needs him out there on the ice with a level head, even in practice. Jack forces a smile and says, “I guess you’ll see at our next game, won’t you?”

Y/N meets his gaze with a mirror smirk, which bothers Jack more than if she’d tried to one-up him again. He grabs his stick with more force than necessary, making himself step past her and onto the ice before he does something he’ll regret. Once he’s out there, skating broad loops to warm up, Jack can almost put the whole exchange out of his head.

Almost. 

Luke finds him after practice, because of course he does. Somedays, Luke swears that little brothers must be born with an innate knowledge of how to stick their heads into other people’s business. Fleetingly, he wonders what Quinn would think about that, then moves on before that lesson can settle in.

“I love our new intern,” Luke says happily on the drive back to their apartment.

Jack scoffs. “Sure you do. You love rubbing this in my face.”

Luke glances at him, surprised. “No, honestly. I think she’s great. Super funny, too.”

Jack turns to stare at him with disbelief so abruptly he almost swerves the car into a telephone pole. Veering to correct course, Jack spits out, “Y/N? You think Y/N is great?”

Once Luke stops pretending like they’ve almost died– which they didn’t, by the way, Jack had everything under control– he calms down enough to say, “Yeah, I do. She was super nice to me. I need to ask if she’s local so we can hang after the internship ends.”

Jack feels as if he’s been dropped into an alternate reality. “You’re serious. You really do like Y/N?”

Now Luke’s looking at him like he’s the crazy one. “Like I said, yeah. Why, what happened when you talked to her? Was she still mad about earlier?”

“You could say that,” Jack grits out, knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Luke chuckles. “That’s kind of funny, actually.”

“It is not,” Jack mutters, but Luke remains in high spirits the whole drive back anyway.

To the great amusement of his younger brother, Jack and Y/N continue to be at odds the next time the Devils have to film social media videos, and the next time, and the next. Even when they start off a meeting on relatively stable ground, something will happen to have them sniping again, and they’ll be at each other’s throats by the time they leave the building in the evening.

What makes it worse is that Jack is apparently the only one suffering from Y/N’s cold shoulder. Everyone from the captain to the rookies seems to have gotten along just fine with their newest social media intern, yet Jack feels like he walks around with a target on his back every time she’s in office. They’ve started to ignore each other instead of purposely tossing insults, but that’s as close as he’ll ever get to a truce.

Jack has started counting down the days until she leaves. He would love some peace and quiet. Maybe the next intern will be normal, or they’ll all be poisoned forever just because Y/N L/N showed up and changed Jack’s life for good.

God, he feels like she’s crept into every part of his world. He’ll be scrolling on his phone and the videos she filmed will appear on his For You page out of nowhere. Jack swears he can sense her in every quick cut, every box of text, every song selection. Walking through the arena, he sees her everywhere– ducking into a meeting room, discussing potential videos with some of the PR agents, tucked into the bleachers so she can watch them practice and snap some shots. Jack is starting to seriously wonder if there has ever been a time when she hasn’t been wound around him like a loose thread come undone from his favorite coat.

Even now, he can see her. Jack has finally left a late-night practice, breath fogging up in the cold evening air. He’s glad for the warmth of his car when he slides in. Luke went back with some friends, but Jack had wanted to hang around a while longer to practice some skills before the next game.

Y/N must have been working late too, because he can see her now, walking out of the parking lot and towards the sidewalk leading into town. Jack assumes she’s waiting for someone to pick her up, but Y/N’s steps don’t show any indication of slowing down. Is she actually walking on a night like this? Jack is cold just thinking about the weather outside. Y/N has a coat on, but it won’t be enough to discourage the bite of the wind.

Before he can even think about what he’s doing, he’s pulled his car alongside her. Y/N looks panicked when he comes to a stop, but relaxes somewhat when Jack rolls down the window and calls out to her. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m walking back. Have a nice night.”

She turns back to the sidewalk, evidently expecting him to keep driving. Jack also expects himself to keep driving, but he doesn’t. “It’s awfully cold to be walking. How far is your apartment?”

“Not far,” Y/N says. “Twenty minutes, maybe?”

That settles it. “You’re not walking twenty minutes in the freezing cold,” Jack decides. “Besides, I thought you were dropped off. Isn’t someone coming to pick you up?”

Y/N pauses oddly, and it occurs to Jack that he probably shouldn’t be noticing how she gets to and from work each day. Still, when she speaks again, he’s pretty sure the annoyance in her voice isn’t directed at him, for once. “I was dropped off, but my friend canceled on me. Hence the walk.”

Jack’s mood immediately sours. That’s a shitty move for sure, and even if he doesn’t always see eye to eye with Y/N, he’d never leave her out here, shivering even after a few minutes of walking. And he won’t tonight, either.

“I can drive you, if you like,” Jack offers abruptly. He’s not sure why he does it. He never has before. They’ve never been in a position like this before, and maybe they won’t either. Still, he doesn’t take it back.

Y/N, apparently heedless of the gravity of this offer, just smiles and shakes her head. “That’s alright, I’ll just call an Uber. Thanks, though.’

Jack blinks and stares at her. It had taken such a rush to get the words out that it honestly didn’t occur to him that she would just say no. “Is this because you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” Y/N laughs. “I’m walking. You should get going soon, you’re going to disrupt traffic.”

“Fuck traffic, you’re cold,” Jack says disbelievingly. “Get in the car, Y/N. Please?”

She looks like she’s going to argue, but a particularly frigid gust of wind rips through that thin jacket and a moment later, Y/N is settling into his passenger seat. She turns to look at him, and Jack looks back at her, just a few spans apart. They’re close enough that he can see the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinks. Close enough that he could reach out and touch the slow bloom of cold on her cheek if he just tried.

“So?” Jack manages to pull himself together long enough to ask, “What’s your address?”

Y/N blinks, evidently startled out of some reverie, then pulls it up on her phone. Jack follows the directions, fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. The car is quiet, and it weighs on him like a burden until he finally blurts out, “Why do you hate me, though?”

Y/N looks baffled. “I don’t hate you.”

Jack snorts. “Of course you do. You get along with every single member of this team but me, it’s a little hard not to take that personally. Come on, just tell me. Is it because I ran into you that first day?”

Y/N laughs again. It’s one of the few times it’s with him, not at him, and Jack lets the sound wash over him like sunlight. It’s a good sound. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again, maybe.

“That was funny. No, it wasn’t that. It’s just–” Her voice drops off, suddenly serious. “Do you remember Emma? She was your social media intern last summer. She’s the one who suggested I take this program, actually.”

Vague memories appear in Jack’s head. “Kind of? We’ve had a lot of interns.”

“Yeah, well, she’s one of my best friends, and the most important piece of advice she gave me before I started was to stay the hell away from you.”

Jack almost misses his turn. “What? Why?”

He risks a glance away from the road and towards her, but Y/N is keeping her head perfectly straight, not allowing herself to look at him in the slightest. “Something about you breaking her heart. She seems to remember you flirting a lot, buying her drinks, then dumping her for someone more interesting the second the internship ended.”

Jack winces. “That does sound familiar, actually. Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

Y/N interrupts him with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, no, I get it. I love Emma, I really do, but she’s got a habit of moving quickly. Still, she was really hurt for a while. I figured anyone who could do that to my friend and not even remember was someone who didn’t need me to be nice to them.”

Guilt starts to pool in Jack’s stomach, icing him down to the core. “Still. I was a dick.”

“You still are, on occasion,” Y/N says, smiling slightly, “But I’ve been bad too, I think. I wanted to get revenge for my friend, but I’ve been more mean than needed. I’m sorry too.”

Jack comes to a slow stop in front of one of the notoriously long red lights of their shared city. As the scarlet of the traffic light washes over them, Jack takes advantage of the stopped traffic to hold out a hand to her. “How about a truce, then? If we’re both sorry?”

Y/N considers his outstretched hand, then nods at last and shakes it. “I’m good with that. Let’s start over.”

“Let’s start over,” Jack repeats. 

Her hand is still a little cold in his, even after the few minutes they’ve spent talking. It occurs to Jack that he could probably sit here for a while longer, warm her hands up with his, and then Y/N nudges him in the side and Jack realizes the light has turned green. He drops her hand hastily, turning back to the road in the hopes that she won’t notice the slow flush of heat to his cheeks.

The rest of the drive back is uneventful. Jack offers to walk Y/N to the door of her apartment complex, which Y/N jokingly calls creepy then smiles for real when he insists. They part with a promise to try harder next time, and Jack doesn’t think his feet have ever felt so light on the walk back from practice. He goes to bed that night like a little kid, practically giddy at the thought of the day ahead.

Looking back on it, Jack isn’t sure what he expected to happen with them after that. A celebration, maybe some fanfares? Or just a normal conversation in which she expressed how glad she was to see him and Jack could do the same? He doesn’t get any of that. In fact, they hardly see each other for most of the next few days. This isn’t too unexpected; although they love to complain, the players and media don’t see each other that often unless someone’s sworn on live TV or otherwise messed up their online presence.

Still, by the time Jack’s path finally crosses with Y/N’s, he’s really hoping for something special. He’s sort of crazy the whole time they’re filming videos, all raised eyebrows and hopeful glances, but instead of seizing the opportunity to make fun of him, Y/N just giggles a little and goes on with her life. It’s not bad, all things considered, but Jack– Jack wants more.

When hasn’t he, after all, wanted more? He wants to be better at skating. He wants to score more goals. He wants to stop getting brushed off by the commentators. He wants, more than anything, for some reason, for the pretty girl interning for their media department to do more than just look at him with a faint smile every now and then.

The sheer wanting starts to consume him. Jack goes out of his way to be exceptionally funny, astoundingly clever, practically fantastic in every way, yet nothing seems to wow Y/N. They’re just talking, which is certainly more than he had a few weeks ago, but Jack doesn’t want to just be talking to her, he wants to be back in his car again, with her leaning over and laughing at his jokes, her cold hands in his, telling him that maybe she’d misjudged him after all. Jack doesn’t just want more, he wants her, and that is making him insane.

Worse still is the fact that he doesn’t have her. Jack has spent his whole life, it feels like, hating the ‘pretty boy hockey player’ persona. He’s certain it’s cost him deals or trades or something over the years with the way people refuse to take him seriously. Yet now, Jack isn’t cursing its existence, but rather wondering why the hell it hasn’t worked. He’s still the same guy, same face. That stubborn acne patch on his chin has been clear for weeks now. He got a haircut, and people said it was good this time. Everything should be in his favor, looks-wise. So why doesn’t it seem to have a single effect?

It’s baffling, honestly. Jack cannot stand it. Worse still, the internship period is starting to slip away, and soon enough Y/N will be gone for good, leaving Jack to reel in her absence and wonder why he couldn’t make her like him enough to stay.

His mood sours whenever he thinks about it, which is often. Like now, even, in between Jack’s hours on the ice. They’re swapping out players in shifts, and Jack won’t be on for another five minutes or so. He’s sitting on one of the metal bleachers, hoping that watching the others will help keep his mind off things, but it’s not working too well.

Someone sits down right next to him, and Jack is about to start asking why they couldn’t pick anywhere fucking else to sit when he realizes it’s Y/N.

“Oh,” he says, trying desperately to sound cool and not bone-tired from practice, “Hey. D’you need another TikTok or something?”

“No TikToks,” Y/N says, smiling. “We can do a bonus one if you want, though, I know how much you love them.”

Jack chuckles. “They’ve been growing on me.” No reason why.

Y/N grins like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “High praise. I hope you carry that spirit to the next social media intern, too.”

Jack sighs plaintively. “Do you really have to go? You fit in well, you know. You might as well stay a little longer.”

“That so?” Y/N asks, one eyebrow raised.

Jack looks away. “I don’t know. I heard some of the guys saying–”

Y/N cuts him off, lips twitching up into a smile. “I don’t care about the guys, Jack. What do you think?”

“I think you should stay,” Jack mumbles. He still can’t look her in the eyes. “With me.”

As soon as he says it, he knows it’s true. It doesn’t have to be through the Devils or not. He just wants Y/N with him for a while longer, to tease him when he’s being stupid and cheer for him during the games. He wants to hear her laugh longer than just the next few days. He wants to get coffee and buy flowers and match outfits and do a hundred things that would be special because he’d be doing them with her. That, more than anything, is what he wants.

A soft pressure on his hand; Jack looks up to realize Y/N has put her fingers over his, and squeezes slightly. He squeezes back by instinct.

“I want that too, Jack,” she tells him.

The smallest spark of luck is creeping back into his veins. “I thought you didn’t go for hotshot hockey players,” he says. “Especially not ones that flirted with the interns.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing slightly, so they’re okay. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. The idea was that I would try to avoid it.”

Jack grins. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Surprisingly badly,” Y/N confesses. “I’m not too mad about it, though. Something tells me we’re going to make this work out.”

“It will,” Jack promises. He’s going to make sure of it. Looking at Y/N, the light in her eyes when she smiles, Jack knows that he’s going to do everything in his power to keep her. He rubs his thumb over her hand, still in his, and cannot help but think about how lucky he is.

Y/N looks like she’s going to start blushing. “Let’s talk about this when all of your teammates aren’t watching,” she says suddenly.

Jack glances up and realizes that he’s on the receiving end of quite a few curious looks from the Devils still on the ice. Luke, especially, looks like he has several questions he wants to ask. Jack groans, mentally preparing himself for the absolute nuisance his little brother will become on the drive home.

Still, it doesn’t faze him for long. “How about we talk about it this Saturday?” Jack asks. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Y/N is breathtaking when she smiles at him. Jack might have to keep looking forever, just so he remembers. “I think that sounds alright to me.”

Jack opens his mouth to say something stupid like how he can’t wait, but the coach blows a whistle to usher him and some of the others back onto the ice, and Jack is saved from himself. “I’ll see you then,” he repeats somewhat needlessly.

Y/N nods, and Jack turns to leave. He’s still got most of his senses intact, despite evidence to the contrary, and Jack does know better than to kiss Y/N in front of his whole team and coach in the middle of practice, but– well, there’s a difference between what Jack knows and what Jack does, and today, he kisses her anyway. It’s good. Really good. Good enough to deal with the teasing when he finally makes it down to the ice. Good enough to keep him hooked until their date, and the next, and the next. Good enough for forever.

hockey tag list: @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

[boiohboii]

The Royal Way 《Pt.2》

(Leclerc!reader x Prince of Monaco!oc)

After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco

or

in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.

N.B: so, this was supposed to be longer and the last part, but it's currently 3 AM and I have classes at 8 AM thus me splitting this little fic into a trilogy. Hopefully, I will have time tomorrow to post the third and final part! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!! WARNINGS: NOT REALISTIC AT ALL!! if you are looking for a realistic revenge sort of plot, it is not here, I tried as best as I can to search up what the whole electronic system does and it's relation to the DRS, BUT I AM BY NO MEANS AN EXPERT NOR HAVE ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE, SO EXCUSE THE POOR RESEARCH. The car designs are from Pinterest... Some swear words (fuck, bitch, etc...) Let me know if I missed anything else please!

Faceclaims:

yn leclerc --> anya taylor joy

Prince Thierry --> louis partridge

Masterlist // part 1

Liked by ferrariisdone, charlesthefrench, leclercfam and 716,920 others

F1_updates_live: Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc heading into the Ferrari motor home in LA. Neither of the Royals look ecstatic to be in this position and it's no doubt to do with the statement released by Ferrari's Formula one media team, where they had essentially blamed the newly wedded Princess, YN Leclerc and their own driver, Charles Leclerc, for his DNF in the previous GP.

username: let them cook

username: the amount of bodyguards they have is insane

username: they do not look happy

username: yeah, no shit sherlock, ferrari basically said that it was yn's fault that Charles is distracted

username: ferrari blaming everyone but themselves

LEAKED AUDIO FROM LAS VEGAS GP, FERRARI'S MOTORHOME: tensions rise in the Ferrari garage as the young royals of Monaco, Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc, threaten Fred Vasseur of taking him to court after buying out the rest of Charles' contract with Ferrari.

(Princess YN Leclerc,Prince Thierry, Fred Vasseur)

"It has been proven time and time again that the team is so incompetent! Why won't you do any changes?"

"Do you think that it's easy? These are people's livelihoods we are talking about"

"You do realise you are talking to a princess, right? She is well aware of how to run a business and a team, unlike you."

"I am just saying that I can't just fire people because Charles can't manage the car!"

"CAN'T MANAGE THE CAR? Are you out of your fucking mind mr. Vasseur? There is evidence, very strong evidence for your information, that the problem was from the electronic system. Do you have any idea how fucked up your engineers and strategists have to be to send out a car with failed electronic system?"

"Correct me if I am wrong my darling, but don't the electronic system control the DRS?"

"Mmhhmmm"

"And if the DRS opens in a corner it might result in a crash, am I correct mr. Vasseur?"

"The DRS was fine, there was-"

"My husband is asking a yes or no question Fred."

"Yes."

"So basically, Ferrari's Formula one team had, intentionally and with their knowledge, put a member of the monegasque royal family in direct danger."

"But Charles isn't a member of the royal family! He is only YN's half brother!"

"PRINCESS YN MR VASSEUR! YOU WILL DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT!"

"Charles is my brother, and you dare put him in harm's way. I am princess YN Leclerc of Monaco, I can and I will hold you accountable as the principal of this team."

"You can't do anything! Carlos had the same car-"

"Carlos did not have the same car and you know it!"

"We already know Fred, we have had professional inspections done on both cars, it's quite deceiving really, telling a driver that he's the priority and still disappointing him every single time."

🔊 a thud is heard 🔊

"This is the amount of money to buy Charles out of Ferrari, but don't spend it Fred, we will be getting it back in court."

"YN WHAT WE-"

"PRINCESS YN FRED! *sigh* it seems like no matter what you are still convinced that you and your workers did no wrong, we will see about that."

"There is only one race left, there will be no team to take in Charles now!"

"Oh, we are not looking for a team to take him in, we made a team for him."

{Taglist: @phillydilly @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @omgsuperstarg @formulas-bitch @brakingboundaries @kyuupidwrites}

[forever-rogue]

hello miss bee 🐝

if you're in the mood to write for joel id love to ask one where he and reader just had a baby of their own and ellie starts to feel left out but they both comfort and reassure her that they won't treat her differently since they already unofficially adopted her anyway 🫶🤲

AN | There may be a new baby on the way, but that doesn’t you’ll ever love Ellie any less. She just needs to be reminded of that💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I hate this,” you plopped down in the chair on the back patio with a loud huff. You heard a snort of amusement from behind you and turned around to find Joel watching you in amusement. Your lips pulled into a pout and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “this is all your fault.”

“Hmm,” he raised an eyebrow before going back over to the makeshift grill to check on dinner, “pretty sure that’s only half true, sweetheart.”

“Well,” you crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him, “it’s still partially true. Being pregnant is the worst. Especially with this heat. I should have gotten pregnant in the summer so the worst of it would have been in the winter.”

“Think of it this way,” the way you raised an eyebrow in a way that suggested you were anything but amused, “we’ll have a fresh baby for the holidays.”

“I’m still hoping for a halloween baby,” you grinned, rubbing your belly that seemed to be growing by the day, “how cool would that be?”

“The coolest,” Joel teased as you laughed, an actual laugh that went straight to his heart, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“The real question - do you think we’re going to have a boy or girl?” 

“Girl,” he insisted without hesitation, “I’m always going to have my girls. I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you took a sip of the fresh lemonade and let out a soft sigh, “but I have a feeling you’re going to be wrong!”

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet on that?” Joel stood there, hands on his hips as he watched you closely. You stuck out your tongue at him, causing both of you to laugh.

What you hadn’t realized was that Ellie was in the kitchen, getting some plates ready to bring out, listening to the two of you. She loved you, she loved you both immensely. She knew that you and you knew that. But she couldn’t help the pang that settled in her stomach and the way her heart seemed to constrict. It was a feeling that hadn’t left her since you’d told her you were pregnant. You and Joel had been so excited to tell her and despite the shock of the news, she’d been excited too. Ellie Williams was finally going to have a baby sister or brother. Her family was growing.

But as the weeks passed by and your pregnancy became more visibly obvious, the worse she started to feel. And it felt like it was eating her alive. It was a mix of emotions that she was struggling to handle and cope with. She was excited for you and Joel and your entire little family but it left her feeling…lost and confused. 

Ellie knew that both of you viewed her as your daughter and she viewed you as parents. She wondered what it would like when the baby came. Your baby - your and Joel’s flesh and blood. Once you had your own baby, would you no longer care about her? Would she be pushed to the wayside as you welcomed and loved your actual child? 

These types of thoughts had been plaguing her for months now. It was stupid, so fuckin’ stupid, she’d be the first to admit, and yet the feelings remained. Realistically, she could have gone to either of you and asked in order to alleviate her fears or get some simple reassurance. But that seemed silly too. What was she supposed to do? Come up to you and ask ‘hey will you still love me once the baby is here?’ That felt ridiculous. 

Instead, Ellie internalized her feelings, deciding to push them away and act like nothing was wrong. You’d noticed that something was off with your girl recently. Things had just seen so crazy lately, with getting ready for the baby and Joel being off for a while with work to do, it hadn’t been easy. But Ellie really had been your rock and you hated the idea that you were neglecting her in any sense.

“Ellie?” the girl almost dropped the bowl of salad she was holding when she heard you call out to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back her tears before heading into the backyard. Your entire face lit up when you saw her and she felt bad for a moment for ever having doubted your love and affection for her, “there you are, Ellie Bean! Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she set the plates and bowl onto the table and nodded softly, “just got caught up cutting the…tomatoes.”

“There’s no tomatoes in the salad, baby,” you gave her arm a gentle squeeze, “we gave the last of them to the Meyers the other day. Are you sure you’re alright?”

She looked away and nodded, staring into the distance as she pleaded with her heart and mind to remain calm and collected. Joel clicked his tongue and caught her attention, giving her a questioning look. Sometimes he hated how well he knew her and how he seemed to see right through her.

“C’mere,” he motioned for her to come over and she obliged, walking over slowly with a heavy tread. She stopped in front of him and he put his hands on her shoulders, leaning down slightly so he was closer to eye level with her, “what’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth. Joel knew that something was up but he didn’t want to push her and possibly cause her to pull away from him. He sighed softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had become such a reflexive action that he didn’t even think about doing it any more, “you’re being gross and showing too much emotion.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he teased and that caused her to smile slightly at him, “‘cause it sure ain’t going to be you right, is it? You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” she whispered, “not right now.”

“Okay,” he nodded lightly, “I’ll be here and ready to listen whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, old man,” she pushed his arm before turning on her heel and walking back over to you. She sat down next to you, her gaze drifting for a moment to your belly. You reached up and touched her face, gently stroking her cheek, “you’re both such saps.”

“It’s only because we love you,” you beamed at her. She felt her cheeks growing warm and pink as she stared at the bowl of tomato-less salad, “you wanna help me make some dessert while the food’s cooking? I was thinking pudding…ooh or maybe some sort of pie?!”

“Sure,” she perked up at your enthusiasm, unable to deny the appeal of spending time with you and making a dessert, “let’s do it.”

Ellie decided that she’d figure out the rest later. Right now, she was okay and she just wanted the two of you to have some fun. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m worried about her,” you closed your book and set on the nightstand before turning to your husband with a sad expression on your face. He followed suit and turned so he was fully looking at you.

“The baby?” 

“I - no. And we don’t know if it’s a girl or boy yet so calm down,” you laughed for a moment before moving to sit crossed-legged - to the best of your ability anyway - and gave him a serious look, “Ellie. She seems so closed off lately and it always seems like she’s upset, but when I try to talk to her she changes the subject or finds an excuse to leave. I feel like my poor baby girl hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Joel took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze before you laced your fingers together, “she could never hate you.”

“But something is wrong and I don’t know what it is and I can’t fix it,” a wave of emotion washed over you and tears stung at the back of your eyes. You sniffled, fully aware that you probably seemed ridiculous right now but you didn’t care, “I just want to make it better.”

“Honey,” Joel’s voice was soft as he put his hands on your sides and gently pulled you towards him. You easily gave in, soft and pliable, as he settled you in his lap. You felt pathetic as you looked at him, tears running down your cheeks. He tenderly brushed them away before taking your face in his hands and turning your face up to his, “she doesn’t hate you and she never will. Whatever she’s going through right now, she’ll come around. She’s still guarded and sometimes these things take time. She’ll come around, she always does. We just have to keep on loving her.”

“Promise?” you whispered as he nodded softly. You leaned into his touch as he rubbed your back soothingly, “I don’t know what I’d do if…I don’t know. If she stopped loving us.”

“That ain’t happening,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I have a feeling I know what’s going on with her.”

“Oh?” you looked at him in surprise and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your confused expression. The fact that you were so pouty and pregnant made you even more adorable to him than before. He had to fight back a laugh at your expression, opting instead to kiss you softly, “what do you think it is?”

“The baby,” he answered, putting a hand on your belly and rubbing it gently, “I think she’s worried about the baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think she thinks that we’re just going…to stop loving her?” the waterworks started again and this time you couldn’t hold back the tears, “she thinks we’re going to replace her!”

“Oh honey,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to hug him as best as possible. You huffed as you buried your face into his chest and he softly cooed at you, “I don’t think she thinks we’re trying to replace her. I think she’s worried that we won’t have as much time and love for her."

"That's not true," you hated the fact that that thought even crossed her mind, "that's like…the farthest thing from the truth! She's my baby too. Nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know that," he gently brushed his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand on your cheek, "you know that. I think she just might need a little reassurance."

"Yeah," you sighed softly, "I can do that. I will do that."

"I have no doubt about that either, honey."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ellie startled when she heard your enthusiastic knocking on her door. She groaned as she looked at the old school alarm on the bedside table and saw that it wasn't even eight o'clock yet. 

"Come in," she rolled onto her side so she was facing the door. You almost threw open the door in your excitement, already fully dressed and ready for the door.

"Hi my love!" Her eyes widened at your cheeriness, "good morning, Ellie Bean."

"It's early," she groaned as you leaned against the doorway, causing you to laugh softly, "why are you so awake?"

"I've been up for a while…couldn't sleep well," you shrugged it off, "but I thought it would be fun if we spent the day together, just the two of us!"

"O-oh," she slowly sat up, heart almost constricting with emotion, "are you sure?"

"Duh," you teased, "its been a while since it's just been the two of us and I figured we could have some fun!"

"Okay," she looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You clapped excitedly and she offered you a tentative smile in response, "w-wait, am I in trouble?"

"Of course not," you walked over to her and held out your hand to her. She took yours and slowly slipped out of the bed, "I just want to spend some time with my favorite girl."

"Alright," a little bit of a flush crossed her cheeks as she offered you a smile, "yeah, that could be fun."

"Let's go then slow poke, no time to lose!"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been filled with doing anything and everything that Ellie wanted - within reason of course. As the day bled into night, the two of you were at the lake, sitting on the dock, feet dangling into the water. 

"Can I ask you something?" You finally couldn't take it anymore and needed to clear all the air. Ellie paused before nodding slowly and turning towards you.

"Sure…"

"I feel like lately…things have been different," you put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze, "and I want to make sure you're alright. You've been off lately, and I want to know if you're okay and if I can do anything to help."

"Oh. Oh," Ellie swallowed thickly; she thought she'd been better at disguising her feelings, "umm…it's…just. I don't know. Things have just felt different since you've been pregnant."

"Yeah?" You asked as she turned to you with a sad little smile and a nod, "oh, Ellie."

"I just…it feels weird that…umm. Like it's you and Joel, you know? And now you're having your own child and it makes me feel like…where's my place?"

"Baby," you tried to keep your own emotions at bay but it was hard when all you wanted to was to wrap her up in a big hug, "your place is with us - it'll always be with us. We're family. Nothing is going to change that."

"But if you love the new baby more than me?" You hated that she even thought anything like that. You wished you could convey just how very much you loved her, "I keep thinking about…what if you don't want me anymore."

"We will never not want you or love you," you took her hand and held it tightly in yours, "that will never change. Nothing could change how we feel about you. You're our girl, Ellie."

"Are you sure? The baby-"

"The baby doesn't change anything," you pulled her into your body as much as you could, "its another person we're bringing into our family that we can love. It doesn't mean any of us is going to get less love. Okay? I swear on my life. And Joel's life. All of it."

"Every time I've gotten close to people they've been taken from me," Ellie sniffled brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand, "my parents, my family, my friends…I almost lost Joel. I don't want to lose you too and the baby. I'm not sure if I'd make it if I did."

"Ellie," you softened at the young girl, "you are so young and you've been through so much. More than anyone ever should. And I know the world is scary and we don't know what the future holds but we can't let that dictate how we feel about the present or how we act. You're not going to lose us or your brother or sister. Never. And maybe me just saying that doesn't make anything better but I'll show you and I'll keep showing you that we mean it. Honestly, I don't think I'd survive without you. You are the world to me, Ellie."

"Being pregnant has made you so sappy," she laughed through her tears, "even more than normal. Its kind of gross."

"It's because I love you so much, kiddo," you grinned at her, brushing away her tears, "but the hormones definitely aren't helping! Luckily it won't be too much longer before the baby is here."

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified," you confessed with a sheepish grin, "but I know I'll be okay. I've got you Joel and you. Everything will be okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, a bit of confidence oozing back into her, "we'll be okay. I'm excited to meet the baby."

"Boy or girl you think?"

"Girl," she seemed so confident that you were almost convinced of that as well, "Joel's meant to be surrounded by girls."

"Funny, that's exactly what he said too," you shook your head in amusement thinking about the two of them. They were too alike for their own good, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Whatever," she playfully rolled her eyes, "we all know we're right!"

"Mhmm," you slowly stood up and held out your hand to her, "come on my love. Let's go home and annoy Joel."

She took your hand eagerly, "I love you too, just so you know."

"Yeah," you promised her softly, "I know. I love you more, kiddo."

-

Ellie approached you slowly, almost unsure if she should be coming over. You beamed at her, motioning for her to come closer. She stole a quick look at Joel, who offered her a small smile and nod of reassurance.

"Come here, my love," you held out your hand to her and she came over, staring at the bundle in your arms in awe, "I hate to admit it, but Joel was right. You've got yourself a little sister."

"Wow," she reached over and gentle stroked her chubby little cheek, "she's so small. What's her name?"

"Well, we don't have a name picked out yet," you smiled softly, "we were hoping you'd help us by picking her name."

"Me?"

"You! If you'd like to that is," you could see her eyes watering up, and your heart felt so full, "you can take a bit to think about it-"

"Daisy," she stated softly, looking between you and Joel to gauge your reactions, "I like Daisy."

"Me too," you gave her a hand squeeze, "Daisy it is. It's perfect. Do you want to hold her, Ellie?"

"I-I don't know," she swallowed the lump in her throat as the baby cooed softly, "she's so small and I don't wanna…hurt her."

"You won't," you promised, straightening up as she stepped closer, "hold her to your chest and make sure you're supporting her head, okay?"

"Okay," she reached over gingerly, as though the baby was made of glass. She took her from you and did as you said, holding the small baby protectively. Daisy made a few sounds before yawning and snuggling into Ellie. The girl watched her in amazement, "she's so cute and little."

"Just like you," you teased, reaching over and giving her arm a squeeze. You turned to Joel, who was watching the scene unfold with nothing short of heart eyes, "look at that, Joel. Look at our girls. They're the best."

"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of Ellie's head, "they are. But you know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"I was right - it was a girl," he threw you a cheeky grin as you snorted in amusement, "wouldn't change it for the world."

"Yeah, me neither," Ellie piped up, "I guess we're a pretty cool family. Daisy and me anyways. You guys are alright."

"We love you too," you sighed contentedly, happy to have your little family all together, "both of you. Lots and lots."

[elaratyrell]

Daemon Targaryen x Fem! Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon {Lessons In Lovemaking}

*All images found on Pinterest*

Requested By: @thatsgayyouknow

Warnings: Threesome, double penetration, unprotected sex, piv sex, anal, vaginal and anal fingering, oral (fem receiving), face sitting, language, use of kepa, Jace's monster dick, Daemon is technically cheating on Rhaenyra, drinking... I think that's it... this is pure filth *Divider from Firefly Graphics*

Request/Synopsis: “Hi I was wondering if you could do something where Daemon is helping show Jace how to please his lover. If you could possibly fill it with has much smut as possible and maybe even do it where the reader takes both of them at the same time.”

A/N: Reader is described as having Valyrian ancestors but this won't affect their appearance as it was hundreds of years ago

*Not fully proof read*

You had been feeling eyes on you all evening.

You were slowly growing used to the feeling of being watched during banquets like this, what with being married to Prince Jacaerys for several moons now. Being the Princess of Dragonstone came with its share of benefits and disadvantages, it seemed.

But this time it felt different.

Amongst the stares of the various high lords and nobles of the kingdom trying to get a look at their new princess, there was one that felt like it was burning straight through you. It was a hungry, intense gaze.

One with lustful intentions.

And it wasn’t coming from your husband.

Your gaze travelled to where that piercing look was coming from, your eyes locking with a pair of lilac ones.

Your father in law, Daemon Targaryen, had his eyes locked on you ever since you'd sat down.

Occasionally, his gaze flickered over to his wife, Rhaenyra, murmuring an agreement to whatever she was saying or pressing a kiss to her palm, but otherwise it was entirely focused on you.

You were dressed in a deep red gown with black lace detailing. Half of your hair was twisted into a braid crown and pinned back, a tiara of gold and rubies adorning your head.

You were every bit a Targaryen princess.

The match with Jacaerys arose due to your family, along with having Valyrian ancestry, bending the knee for Rhaenyra and supporting her as heir after the death of her father. Fortunately, her younger half brother Aegon had declined to oppose her, and she was crowned. While your marriage to Jacaerys was indeed an arranged affair, you had managed to find love with the young prince, and he with you.

You were the very image of young love that had only bloomed since your nuptials.

There was only one slight crack in your relationship.

Intimacy.

You and Jacaerys were both young and inexperienced on your wedding night. You were thankful that he declined the bedding ceremony, the both of you basking in the warm glow of your private chambers all night.

But since then, moments such as that had been sparse between the two of you, and while Jace had been an attentive and loving husband, you found yourself yearning for more intimacy between the two of you. Any attempts at initiating such things had resulted in Jace telling you that it was late and you were both too tired, or that he didn't want to hurt you, bringing up memories of your discomfort on your wedding night.

It wasn't your fault he was incredibly well endowed.

You were sure that you could both navigate yourselves through the act of lovemaking without bringing you pain.

You just needed to explore that aspect of your relationship more.

And you had decided that tonight would be that night.

Perhaps it was because of the way you had been alone with your thoughts for most of the evening, perverse desires swimming in your mind, or the fact that Jace's touch, whether it was placing his hand over yours, or on your thigh in an innocent manner, a source of comfort...

Or perhaps it was the way Daemon's stare had made your thighs rub together and your skin flush with heat.

No matter the reason, your lips found Jace's the moment he closed your chamber doors behind him, and while initially taken aback by your rather bold action, he eagerly kissed back, his hands travelling to rest on your back while yours tangled in his hair. You smirked against his lips as you felt the lace of your dress loosen.

Once your dress was undone, pooling around your feet, you attempted to tug off Jace's clothes, but he lightly grabbed your wrists, his forehead resting against yours, your chests heaving and lips swollen.

"I... can't..."

"Why not?" You whispered, eyes locking with his. "Jace... I need you. I want you. I want to feel you. Feel loved by you."

"I don't want to hurt you-"

"You won't."

"How do you know that?"

"There are things that can be done to ensure that the act is not painful, but pleasurable. I have read about it-"

"Y/N!"

"Jace, you left me with no other choice," You suddenly snapped, chest heaving. "We have not been intimate since our wedding."

"I know... and believe me, my love, I have yearned to be close with you as well," Jace sighed, taking your hands in his. "But you know that we are not exactly well educated in the act of love making. Look at who we were surrounded with to teach us. Me, with my alcoholic uncle who viewed women as objects and you, with two married sisters who refused to speak on the subject-"

"It seems you could use some guidance in the matter."

You and Jace both turned to see Daemon leaning in the open doorway, arms folded and a slight smirk on his face. Jace stepped between his stepfather than you, an arm protectively outstretched to protect your dignity.

"You could have granted us the liberty of knocking to prepare us for your arrival," Jace spoke, his voice surprisingly stern, almost authoritative, as he addressed his stepfather. Usually his tone would be more respectful, but when you were involved, he didn't care who he was addressing.

"I was about to, but I found your conversation to be far too interesting," Daemon replied, taking a step forward.

"That's close enough," Jace said, his arm pushing you further behind him. Daemon tilted his head, taking another step towards his stepson.

"I merely wish to offer my... expertise, on your issue."

"We do not require such guidance from you."

Daemon smirked. "This doesn't just concern you, Jacaerys. What about you, byka mēre?" [little one]

The way those Valyrian words dripped from his tongue made a shudder run down your spine, your thighs squeezing together.

"She does not need you or your silver tongued words-" Jace began, but he was silence by Daemon raising a hand.

"I was not addressing you, Jacaerys," He said dismissively, curling a finger towards you to beckon you closer.

Jace's grip on your waist loosened as you pulled away from him, hesitantly stepping towards Daemon.

"There you are, byka mēre," His smirk was like a serpent's as he spoke in that honeyed tone. Gentle, but with an edge. Something lingered behind it, and it just took one look into his eyes, the way his pupils darkened when focused on her, to know why. "Tell me, what do you wish to know?"

"I..." You tried to speak, but your mouth was completely dry. You could practically feel yourself shrink in front of Daemon's imposing stare. His presence filled the room, and you couldn't help but find yourself in awe of him.

"Do not tell me you are suddenly feeling shy, little dove," Daemon murmured, reaching out to run his thumb over your lower lip. "You can tell me."

"I... well... I wish to know how to be... how to feel..."

"How to feel true pleasure?" He asked, eyes glittering like amethysts. She nodded, and he turned to address his stepson.

"Have you not been satisfying your beautiful bride, Jacaerys?" He raised an eyebrow.

"That is none of your concern."

"But your wife wishes it to be. Do you want me to help you, byka jorrāelagon?" [little love]

"Daemon-"

"I do," Your voice was nothing more than a hushed murmur, but both Daemon and Jace heard you, the latter shooting you a look of slight hurt.

"Do you hear that Jacaerys? She wants me to guide her."

"You will not touch her," Jace glared, fists clenched.

"That is not your choice to make," Daemon replied with a smirk. "Do you want me to touch you, little one?" He asked, earning a nod from you in response.

"I will not have this-"

"Do you wish for your wife to be happy, Jacaerys?" Daemon interrupted his stepson, raising an eyebrow.

"Well... well yes..."

"You want her to feel satisfied? To feel pleasure?"

"Of course-"

"And giving her such pleasure would make her happy, yes?"

Jace breathed out a sigh, his gaze fixed on the ground and his jaw clenched. "...Yes..." He spoke through gritted teeth.

"Then surely that means that whatever your wife wishes... you should grant her? Or in this instance... allow me to grant her?"

Jace's gaze snapped up to meet Daemon's. "Do you not have any loyalty to my mother? To your wife?"

"Of course I do, Jacaerys," Daemon replied smoothly. "But your pretty little wife here wishes for the guidance I have offered. Do not fret," His lip curled into a smile. "I will make sure it is not a regular occurrence."

Jace looked at you, meeting your gaze as you silently pleaded with him.

"Even if it goes against your wishes," Daemon added. "I'm sure it will only be a matter of time before your wife seeks me out. So, we can do this tonight... or whenever she finds me in private-"

"Fine!" Jace exclaimed, letting out a deep breath. "Very well."

You rushed over to him, cupping his face in your hands and pressing your lips to his. "Thank you, my love. Do not fret, I will make this up to you." You whispered, pressing another kiss, this time to his cheek, as he took your hands in his.

"If this is what you truly want, I will not stand in your way of happiness," He murmured, laying a kiss to the back of your hand.

"I love you."

"And I you, dearest." He mustered you a small smile, kissing your other hand before letting you go. You stepped back, giving him one last smile before turning to Daemon, who outstretched a hand towards you.

"Shall we, byka mēre?"

You nodded, taking his hand and allowing him to lead you over to the bed.

"If you feel overwhelmed, little one, you need only tell me. I will stop. I give you my word of that."

"I assure you, your grace, I will not require that."

"You need not call me that, byka jorrāelagon, " Daemon murmured, looking down at you. "You may call me kepa. Understood?"

"Yes," You replied. "Kepa." You quickly added.

"Jacaerys, you may either step outside or take a seat. I do not require you at this moment" Daemon said, glancing over to his nephew. "Actually, I think that you had better watch. You will need to stay to learn how a lady can be pleasured."

Jace slumped down in a chair by the fireplace, glaring at his stepfather's rather smug expression, his jaw clenched, no doubt to hold back any words he may regret. He did not wish to upset you, or deny you your wish, and Daemon had a larger influence, over both the kingdom and Rhaenyra that he could use to his advantage should Jacaerys change his mind.

He didn't want to push you away.

So he would bite his tongue, and hold himself back for tonight.

"Right now, little dove," Daemon's attention was now fully focused on you. "First, let's remove these undergarments. Let me see you."

His touch lit your skin on fire as his hands slid down your arms to settle on your waist before moving to your back. You let out a small gasp at the ripping sound as he tore the garment from you body, letting it fall to the floor, leaving you completely bare before him.

His lilac gaze darkened as he circled around you, like a predator around its prey.

Because that is what you were.

His prey for tonight.

And he was going to devour you.

"My, my, what a stunning little creature you are. I can see why my stepson is so enamoured with you..." He murmured, fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, sending an involuntary shiver at his touch. "Do not worry, little dove," He added, coming to stand in front of you, his hands moving to cup your face. "Kepa will take good care of you. Lay down on the bed for me, little one."

Complying with his orders, you settled yourself on the bed behind you, the silken sheets smooth against your bare skin.

"Sȳz riña,"[good girl] He praised, ridding himself of his tunic and undershirt to expose his toned torso to you. He was healthy, strong, with a warrior's body.

"You enjoy what you see, jorrāelagon mēre?"[dear one] He smirked slightly at your lustful gaze. Hesitantly, you nodded, making the smirk widen. "You need not shy away from me, dārilaros, my purpose tonight is to help you, to fulfil your wishes, understood?" [princess]

"Yes, kepa," You murmured, gazing up at him with those eyes of yours, wide like a does as he leaned forward to capture you lips in a hungry kiss, one that was full of desire and unbridled lust, one that consumed you. It did not contain the passion and tenderness of Jace's, but sent a jolt of excitement through you nonetheless.

Daemon nipped at your lower lip, a whimper slipping through as you parted your lips to allow his tongue to enter your mouth. He gently pushed you down so you were laying on your back, one hand bracing himself above you while the other moved to your breast, rolling a hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger. He made sure to settle himself on one side of you so Jacaerys could get a full view of the way your body reacted to his touch, so he could see the way you arched into Daemon as his lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses in his wake, his hand still fondling your breast.

You tilted your head back against the pillows as his teeth grazed the sweet spot at the base of your throat, your breath hitching slightly. Daemon smirked against your neck, his lips latching onto the spot and sucking into the skin. His hand left your breast, tracing along the curve of your waist, your hips, your stomach, before settling to part your legs. Dipping between them, he glided a finger between your folds, gathering your arousal on his forefinger.

"So wet with desire for me already, byka mēre," He murmured, lifting his head from your neck where the skin had began to bloom with the irritation from his teeth. He lifted the finger to his lips, tasting you. "Heavenly. However did you restrain yourself Jacaerys? If I had your privilege I would feast on you every night, dārilaros."

"H-he said... he said he didn't want to hurt me..." You breathed out, chest heaving already from the attention Daemon had given you.

"That is because he doesn't know how to prepare you, dove," Daemon replied. "But do not worry, kepa will help you."

It didn't hurt when he inserted his first finger inside of you, or even the second, stretching your walls as his thumb lazily circled your clit.

"Be patient, byka mēre," He tutted as you desperately bucked your hips against his fingers, desperate for more friction. "We don't want this to be over quickly, do we? I have you all night, and I tend to take advantage of that."

The way he'd murmur those words only grew your desire for more. You wanted him inside of you, to feel him stretch you out and join you as one. But you also understood he was there to guide and teach you the ways of pleasure.

And you knew he was going to take his sweet time.

Your hands braced on his shoulders, nails digging crescent marks into his skin as he pushed a third finger inside.

"Does it hurt?"

"A... a little..." You whispered. "But please don't stop, kepa. Please... keep going."

"As you wish, dārilaros," He smirked, pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb still circling your sensitive bud.

It wasn't long until you came undone for the first time that night. The way Daemon's fingers curled against you and the way he'd press against your clit soon sending you over the edge.

Daemon lifted his fingers to your lips. "Open, little one," He husked, lilac eyes blown with lust as you sucked his fingers clean.

"Sȳz riña." [good girl]

His replaced his fingers with his lips, humming to himself as he tasted you on your lips. You wrapped your legs around his waist, rolling your hips against his.

"Wait did I say about patience?" He whispered against your ear, catching the lobe between his teeth. "It isn't me I'm preparing that sweet little cunt for, jorrāelagon mēre..." [dear one]

His whisper sent a shudder straight through you, head tilting to the side to focus on where Jace was sat by the fireplace, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, those usually warming brown eyes now black, chest heaving with heavy breaths as his bulge strained beneath his breeches.

You knew Jace was struggling to maintain his composure, that it was only a matter of time before he snapped.

You kept your gaze locked on him as Daemon kissed your neck, tongue gliding over the bruise he'd left earlier before focusing his attention on your breast, teeth catching your nipple and making your head tilt back in pleasure. Breathy moans filled the room as he paid the same attention to your other breast before leaving a line of kisses down your stomach, your hips, before his head settled between your legs, draping them over his shoulders.

He feasted on you like a man starved, groaning at your sweet taste while your fingers tangled in his silver tresses. Every time his tongue would press against your clit, or flick against your walls made you roll your hips against him, fingers tugging at his hair that only made him growl against your, the vibrations only tightening the coil twisting in the pit of your stomach.

Your thighs squeezing around his head only made him bury his tongue deeper inside of you, rolling onto his back so you were now straddling his head. His hands planted themselves on your waist, guiding your hips to roll down against him, nose brushing against your clit.

Daemon had a reputation for having a skilled silver tongue, and he certainly put it to good use, bringing you to the brink once again, eagerly lapping at your juices like it was the finest feast in the seven kingdoms.

You let out deep gasps of breaths as you moved yourself from Daemon, who sat up beside you, lips glistening with your arousal.

"I think you might be ready, don't you?" He asked, hooking his finger beneath your chin so your eyes locked with his. You nodded, Daemon smirking and brushing your hair from your eyes. "Alright, little one. Jacaerys." He called over to his stepson the way an owner would to a dog, but Jacaerys rose to his feet all the same, his brisk strides bringing himself to your side in an instant, his hand protectively resting on shoulder as he glared at his uncle.

"It seems she's ready for you." Daemon said, pouring himself a goblet of Dornish wine. "Be gentle, let her set the pace. Perhaps you should be on top, byka mēre," He suggested, that glint in his eyes making Jace narrow his in suspicion. "Don't tell me you are going to back away now, Jacaerys," Daemon continued. "It will upset your dear wife so."

"Of course I haven't," Jace replied, his voice stern and clear, but when he looked at you, his glare directed at his stepfather softened. "If she still wants this." He added, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you insisted your stance had not changed. "As you wish, my love," He murmured, standing from the bed to rid himself of his clothing.

Jacaerys leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you into his arms so he could manoeuvre you both, him laying on his back and you straddling his waist, his hardened cock pressing against you. His hands found your waist as you positioned yourself above him, slowly lowering yourself onto him, your head tilted back and mouth slightly agape at the heavenly feeling of him stretching your walls.

"Does it feel alright?" Jace whispered.

You nodded, leaning down to kiss him again. "I'm fine," You murmured against his lips.

The sound of Daemon's empty goblet being placed back down on the table echoed around the room, making you pull away from Jace, looking behind you to see Daemon removing the rest of his clothes.

"Hold on, you said-"

"I said she was ready for you, I never said that I was finished with her yet," Daemon interrupted his stepson's protests, walked behind you to whisper in your ear.

"Do you think you can take me as well, dārilaros," He whispered, warm breath fanning against the shell of you ear. He let out a small hum of approval at your nod of response, lips pressing against your shoulder as he leaned you forward slightly.

"Relax for me, byka mēre," He cooed in your ear, his finger teasing the entrance to your puckered hole. "Kepa will not hurt you unless you wish for him to."

You clenched around his finger as he slowly pushed it into you, gently moving it in and out. Beneath you, you felt Jace's cock twitch inside of you, as though pleading with you to move. His gaze was focused on you as your expression twisted into one of pleasure, your hands braced against his chest as Daemon continued working on preparing you for him.

When he deemed you were ready, he slowly entered you, hand holding your hip to keep you in place as he sheathed himself inside of you.

The feeling of being filled up by the two of them was almost euphoric, Daemon stretching you out perfectly despite not being as well endowed as Jacaerys (although still impressive).

"Are you ready, dōna mēre?"[sweet one] Daemon asked, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

"Yes... please kepa... please let me move..." You whispered.

"Ssh, little one," He hushed you. "It's alright. You can move when I tell you, understood? When I pull out of you, that's when you can move, yes?"

You nodded. "Yes, I understand, kepa."

"Sȳz riña," Daemon whispered, lips brushing against your temple as he slowly drew out of you, his grip on your hip loosening to allow you to move up and down along Jace's length. When you lifted yourself off of him, Daemon entered you once again, establishing a slow but steady rhythm.

You let out a moan as Jace pressed a thumb against your swollen pearl, the sensitive bud sending another jolt of pleasure through you as Daemon picked up the pace, guiding your hips faster. Jace sat up to capture your lips with his, more passionate than the last.

The kiss broke as Daemon grabbed your hair, tugging your head back to replace Jace's lips with his, exposing your throat for Jace to lay his own claim on you.

After your two previous orgasms, you knew you wouldn't last longer, and when Jace applied more pressure to your clit and Daemon snapped his hips against your ass, you were tipped over the edge, your third orgasm of the evening coming over you like a tidal wave.

Daemon's hips stuttered against you, and stood still for a moment as he reached his release, laying a kiss to the top of your head as he slowly pulled out of you, using his finger to push any of his load back into your hole.

"Finish inside of her Jacaerys," He said, stepping back. "I'm sure she'd look quite heavenly with her stomach swollen with your heir."

You had been waiting all evening for Jace to snap, to take control, and Daemon's comment must have triggered something within him, as the next thing you knew, you're husband had you pinned down beneath him as he rutted into you like a depraved animal, his mouth on yours swallowing the moans and cries that ripped through you at the relentless pace he'd set.

"Do you want that?" He all but growled against her lips. "To be swollen with my heir? My babe?"

"Please Jace..." You breathed. "Ñuha dārilaros, ñuha zaldrīzes, fill me with your seed so that I may grant you an heir." [my prince, my dragon]

And with that, Jace spilled himself inside of you, and like Daemon, he made sure none of his release went to waste, pushing it back inside of you.

"It seems my work here is done," Daemon smirked, redressing himself. "Well done, Jacaerys, I hope you grant your wife her wishes more often now." He walked over to where you were sprawled out on the bed, covered in a sheen of sweat. He crouched down and leaned forward, his lips hovering over your ear as he whispered so only you could hear.

"If you require me again, ñuha dārilaros, you need only ask," You could practically hear the smirk as he purred into your ear. "I'm sure nobody would bat an eye if your babe was born with silver hair. Jacaerys does carry the blood of the dragon in his veins." [my princess]

And with a gentle kiss to your forehead, he rose to his feet, and left, closing the door behind him and leaving you and Jacaerys to catch your breaths, and realise what in seven hells had just happened.

If you wanted to be added to the general HOTD taglist or taglists for specific character/s, just let me know

Masterlist

[somewhereincairparavel]

just thinking about how Jason grace had his entire life molded from the day he was born, nothing in his life was authentic, even his own name was an offering to appease a goddess.

he also died being so distant from everyone he knew (don't get me wrong, I know he was friends with the 7, but If I'm being realistic here and go by canon, only Leo and Nico were actually "close" with Jason, and maybe Percy a bit) I mean, Annabeth took a long time to warm up to Jason and didn't trust him, Hazel never quite forgave jason for mistrusting nico (I'm still a lil bitter about this one lol bc she easily forgave Leo simply bc he's Sammy's great grandkid, and Leo's kinda the one who initiated the suspicion in the first place yet she got so mad at Jason for simply laying out the arguments and exerting caution?? Yeah I know she was upset that her brother was in danger but she never even gave Jason a chance even after nicos rescue, I'm not tryna blame Leo or anything but I think they BOTH should've been forgiven equally, esp since Jason's encouragement in house of hades fuelled nico to break out of his shell), Frank saw of Jason as more of a hero and looked up to him (still avenged his death tho so big W), Piper dumped him and canonically was outwardly bitchy/a little hostile to him after the breakup.

EVEN coach hedge and mellie were such jerks to him bc they assumed HE dumped Piper. Still wished Piper made it clear to them that the break up wasn't Jason's fault but ofc she didnt. TOA Piper is such an L

He never saw Leo again and never got to spend the summer with Nico in camp half blood like he planned to. His dad is a jackass and didn't shed a single tear at his death, his sister had her own life and he felt like she didn't need him anymore.

Reyna, Jason's childhood friend grew distant from him bc of her romantic feelings + the whole Venus mess (which is no fault of her's tho, mind you)

He never felt "at home" in camp Jupiter even after he got his memory back because all he did over there was military duties.

I don't think he got his full memory back properly either because, Percy had the gorgons blood but he didn't. I'm speculating this because he still felt very disconnected to Camp Jupiter and Rome.

He never got to do what he wanted, and even if he succeeded in defeating Caligula, jason STILL never would've gotten freedom, since he promised the minor gods that he'd build temples on their behalfs, and was Prontifex Maximus. He made a diorama and everything.

His Greek friends never made it to his funeral. They never got to say goodbye.

and as Apollo noted, he died with his fingers pointing, like he was still telling them all to escape without him. His chest was spewing out blood and jason still plucked up the energy to tell tempest to get Apollo and Piper to safety.

Jason Grace was born a Roman soldier, and died a Roman soldier, full circle. He never became a grandpa to his and piper's grandchildren like he wanted to.

[azzibuckets]

Please write a one shot on them flirting across the arena 🤭

tease [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: paige and azzi are separated for one game and don’t know what to do with themselves

a/n: inspired by pazzi unashamedly flirting from across the arena at the mystics/aces game

word count: 800

masterlist

💗: stop looking at me like that

P: like what?

💗: Like you wanna fuck me

Paige’s cheeks immediately colored as she looked up from her phone to glare at Azzi, who was quietly laughing at the text she’d just sent.

P: it’s not my fault you decided to be fancy and sit courtside

💗: Don’t start. You weren’t even planning on coming til a few hours ago

P: you just don’t love me enough to sit with me in these lowly seats

💗: 🙄 Even if I wanted to, all the seats next to you are taken

Azzi watched as bubbles popped up, then disappeared. She glanced up, but Paige was now gone from her seat, leaving behind Drew, who was busy munching on popcorn.

Sighing, she put her phone down and tried to focus on the game. She knew it wouldn’t look good on her if she was glued to her screen instead of supporting Aaliyah and the Mystics, especially with all cameras pointing at her face earlier, but she couldn’t help but miss Paige’s presence. She’d never tell the older girl, but she had checked for available seats, perfectly willing to sacrifice her free court-side spot in order to be with her girlfriend and their little brother. But apparently everyone and their mother had wanted to watch this game tonight, and all the rows in the arenas were jam packed.

She felt her phone vibrate with a notification. Her fingers itched to swipe and respond to Paige, but she forced herself to wait until at least a free throw was called before opening her phone again.

P: you might wanna turn your brightness down

P: Attachment: 1 Image

Azzi glanced nervously around her, but everyone else was focused on the game. Feeling slightly less feminist at how little she was actually paying attention, she hunched over her phone and dimmed the screen.

Her thumb tapped on the file, and the image opened up on her phone. Oh.

Azzi slammed her phone down, trying to fight the blush from coating her cheeks. She looked up, and Paige was back in her seat now, a knowing smirk on her face as she stared down at Azzi.

Annoyed, Azzi shook her head. “Stop it,” she mouthed.

Cocky, Paige raised an eyebrow. Stop what?

Azzi rolled her eyes. She couldn’t just get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of the game, but she could feel the tightening of her core just from seeing the photo Paige sent for only half a second.

Paige must’ve recognized her inner battle, because she raised her arms in what would look like an innocent stretch to everyone else, but to Azzi, she knew that Paige was intentionally letting her jersey ride up to expose the toned flatness of her abs. Azzi’s eyes flickered down to Paige’s stomach before going back to her face, and Paige wet her lips before nodding at her phone.

P: just say the word and i can be in the bathroom in two seconds

💗: You’re a terrible friend to Aaliyah, you know that?

P: this could’ve all been avoided if you would’ve just sat with me🥰

Azzi groaned at her girlfriend’s pettiness. She would never be able to live this down.

💗: The answer is still no

💗: You’re going to regret this so bad later.

P: can’t wait mamas

•••••••

“You think you’re funny?” Azzi moved closer to Paige, making her back up til she hit the wall. Paige stayed silent, a little smirk on her lips.

“You’re gonna drop the fucking attitude right about now,” Azzi said, fingers easily slipping under Paige’s jersey and roaming across her sides, causing Paige’s eyes to flutter shut as she basked in the warmth of Azzi’s touch.

Azzi’s breath fanned across Paige’s lips. “What, you were all talk just a few minutes ago, and suddenly you don’t know what to say?” she mocked.

Paige groaned, trying to move in closer for a kiss, but Azzi gripped her hips and held her in place. “You can’t be mad at me for missing you,” Paige complained with a pout. She reached down and tried to fumble at the zipper of Azzi’s pants, but her hand was swatted away.

Azzi let her lips graze Paige’s, but firmly pulled back as soon as Paige leaned in for more, leaving the blonde chasing. “This is gonna be a lot worse when we get home, just wait.” She separated herself from Paige and turned around to unlock the bathroom door. Paige stayed where she was against the wall, chest heaving as she glared at Azzi.

“Fix your hair and your jersey before you leave,” Azzi said scathingly. “You look like a mess.” Then she was gone.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC Prompt: Who is Danny Fenton?

Warning: This one will be dark as it contains character deaths and violence.

Danyal replaced Danny Fenton a long time ago. As in the original died and Danyal needed a place to hide.

He could have killed him or maybe there was an accident. But he's been masquerading as Danny Fenton for a long time.

But imagine Danyal Al Ghul did kill a kid to take his place. Or at least might have put him out of his misery of something tragic that happened.. as if he wasn't stalking homes to try and pretend to be someone's else's child after leaving the league.

Wasn't "his" fault the kid was stupid enough to cross paths and get hurt.

Though guilt does follow him as he pretends and easily slides into the kids life. Reason he "starts" to drift from Jazz, she's the only one that eyeing him too closely and he doesn't like it. Blame it on her being a nag.

Its why he survived the portal incident. He was already contaminated.

All this to avoid having to fight his brother and being kicked around by his grandfather.

Only to have karma bite him in the ass. Not only he failed to come back fully- unlike the pit rage that made you forget yourself- this form seems to make every regret and terrible action dig its claws deeper in every painful way.

Even worse if you play the whole phantom is a ghost combined with Danny.. so phantom is danny fenton.

Now he's lost anything he could have pride in. Thanks to his accident, he's had harder time controlling his body.. especially with his powers. Clumsy. Uneven. He knew he was out of sorts from not practicing but he doubt he be this bad.

His life forever now half of either existence. He couldn't pretend anymore. Once his new parents find out- they would try to kill him.

Back to square fucking one.

And this time. He doubt even his brother or mother would lend a pity hand. Not like he would want it.

AMG just now thought maybe he would go to Gotham after he killed Vlad and was caught by the Fentons.

He warned Vlad and told him he was getting onto his last nerve. Even told him that Jack wasn't his dad and Maddie wasn't his mom, hell he wasn't even Danny Fenton. But if he had to tell him who he was he was going to regret it.

Vlad went even harder losing interest in Danny- only for Danny to make a sword with his powers and show Vlad WHO he was.

He was trying to be like his father- batman. He is the grandson of the demon king- and former member of league of assassins.

Vlad begging when he realizes Danny been holding back and actual death is on the horizon. "I'm Danyal Al Ghul. And I'm tired of you."

Danny did do it to save everyone permanently but after brutally killing Vlad- is when first his friends show up to warn him about his parents just to see what he done.

Danny laughing awkwardly like.. you-you saw that.. didn't you? heh- Then Fentons barge in. Jack is emotional wreck.

Actually getting a few good hits in, before Danny decided to play dead again and let Jack think he destroyed him.

Flying back to gather his stuff to leave permanently. He couldn't take the guilt of looking at Jack's face. Danny Fenton is dead anyways.

Only to be confronted by Jazz later who shakily asks if Danny is her brother.

Danny being honest, "no."

"For how long?" Jazz saying she knows it had to be before the accident.

"…we we're 8."

Jazz asking trying not to sob did he kill him.

"Mercifully." Then explains he was going to die anyways-

"You don't know that-"

"Actually I DO. I know what it takes to KILL someone, what could allow someone to live. That's something I DO know. And if he had managed to live he would be a vegetable." Explaining how the injury to his spinal cord was not recoverable. just imagine its so bittersweet, because Jazz does love her brother still. But Danny has been a lie this whole time.. or at least being Fenton was. Most of the laughs have become real, jokes, the friendship.

But Danny knows he can't fix this.. so he leaves.

Jazz torn whether to beg him to stay or to go.. and just ends up choking up watching him leave.

thus Danny not sure where to go decides its bout time he at least sees his father.

whether he let him see him or not is undecided.

Jack will either be blame for the murder of Vlad, or Phantom will be exposed.

Either way. Danny knew he royally fucked up.. again.

Ooo what if Danny does join the bats but insist he just wants to be a normal teen. Has a fully researched and planned backstory… mostly leaving out things because its "hard" to talk about. How he lived from foster home to foster home pretending to be different children until he just escape.

Until Jazz , Sam , and Tuck come to find him. Having audio where Danny stated he was the son of batman. Danyal Al ghul. So they figured if they find batman. They might find Danny.

Sam and Tucker want answers.. also mixed about Danny.. but dammit they been through so much.. HOW COULD HE keep that from them? They're not going to let him runaway from this. Tucker also adds unless he threatens to kill us.

Jazz had resolved her feelings. Analyzing everything since Danny was 8. When the switch happened. What was him acting and when the real Danyal appeared.

And had decided she didn't care. Danny was her BROTHER. And honestly is the only thing she has left right now. And she wants him back. Wants to help him heal, wants to help him.

Sam and Tuck want their answers then decide what to do from there. They don't WANT everything they knew to be a lie.

And now Batman is aware of more of his son- Damian knowing more of what his twin been up too.

Its a race to get answers out of Danny before he figures it out and disappears for good.

Can see Damian being the best to help Danny through this. Especially since Jon and Dick helped him not feel so bad about the league.

Danny though pointing out- "Difference, the league didn't make me kill a kid, nor a pathetic billionaire."

"You're right. It would have made you kill me."

Danny just breaks.

Thus finally able to admit all his guilt and how terrible he feels about himself. How he TRIED to be like Father but.. he failed so hard. He failed. He failed EVERYTHING. Just a loser. A failure. A waste. Only to be reminded that if he was one- he wouldn't have so many people wanting to know him. He's scared to face his friends' and sister. He knows its gonna hurt. And it does. But even though he isn't forgiven there is hope things can move on from it. Sam and Tucker will have some serious trust issues and take a while to decipher what part is Danny and what isn't. Meanwhile, yes Jazz feels betrayed. She understands and mostly just want to get to know HER brother more.. Danny more. Hope this opens up the wall she wanted to break down this whole time. And as long as Danny shows her who he is, and tries to work on himself. She doesn't care who he was or how he got there. Also he has to show her what he done with her little brother's body and give it a proper burial. Which Danny happily will- giving it a proper burial.. not showing jazz. He's still afraid she'll immediately hate him once she does. Also can see Bruce being so conflicted but Damian, Dick, and Jason all standing up for Danny. Especially Jason once hearing why Danny killed Vlad was to PROTECT his family and town. He gave him fair warning.. So imagine Bruce and Danny having hard time getting along after everything is revealed. But more so just Bruce unable to comprehend the conflicted emotions. Danny tried to emulate him.. but failed. But he tried to do good.. yet he still killed. So its more so awkward than anything. Bruce still wants to give his son the best. Then I can see Danny helping out- though he keeps phantom a secret from the public. He's always invisible or barely seen.

[panlight]

Really is wild when you start to think about what other characters went through during the course of the books that just . . . doesn't matter all that much.

Alice found out how/why she was turned, that she had been hunted by James and a vampire who cared about her turned her to save her and then died protecting her. That's a lot. And then in New Moon she finds out her father had her committed to an asylum and the date on her supposed gravestone matches the date on the admission papers. Also a lot. I guess with this one you can sort of handwave it with "she doesn't remember any of it though so maybe that's why it doesn't affect her much."

Then there's Leah and Seth, who lose their dad, and that's like, hardly a thing other than a) allows for the "funeral" miscommunication and b) makes Sue single so she can take care of Charlie while Bella's off blissfully vampiring. Seth is happy and sunny and sweet pretty much 100% of the time, and Leah's issues are all attributed to the Sam/Emily drama rather than, oh, I don't know, the shock of her phasing into a wolf causing her father's fatal heart attack. The guilt she must feel about that even though it's not at all her fault!

Then there's the Cullens in general dealing with having to hunt down and kill James; having to deal with Edward running away and nearly dying in Volterra; being under the threat of the Volturi because of Edward's misadventure in Italy; having to fight to the death against a bunch of newborns; and facing off against the Volturi. They presumably have been living in peace since whenever it was Maria had shown up in Calgary and then in the space of like a year and a half just complete and utter chaos, and all they can say about it is like, "we're so grateful you saved Edward, Bella!"

Quil, watching all his friends join this mysterious 'cult' and being left out and confiding in Bella about it. Sam dealing with All Of It when he wasn't even supposed to be the Alpha. Embry realizing he's the half-brother of one of these guys and probably searching for that belonging but knowing it could throw the community and families into chaos.

And then there's the pregnancy. Only Rosalie gets to have any feelings about it really and again, it's mostly so she can be Bella's bodyguard and less about Rosalie herself. But Esme has also longed for motherhood and sure she "makes do" with her Cullen kids, but they were all essentially adults when she adopted them. But more importantly she actually HAS been pregnant and HAS had a baby and LOST said baby. She also crushed hard on a vampire when she was a teenager, and now she's watching Bella getting to have a child with the vampire she loves when it's impossible for Esme herself and surely surely surely this would bring up some complicated feelings. But we get nothing. Like, literally nothing from Esme, she might as well not be in the book. She just existed to renovate the cottage.

Then there's Carlisle, whose mother died in childbirth from his normal human birth, watching his new daughter-in-law dying from a pregnancy and listening to his first and most beloved son say how he could never love the creature, his own child, if it kills Bella, and probably looking back on his own fraught relationship with his father and reliving that same resentment from the POV of the 'creature that killed the mother' and again, nothing. Not a factor. No one even mentions it in passing.

And like yes, I know, it's a YA romance, it's Not That Deep, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire and finding wish fulfillment fantasy in that. I know. Everything else is just set dressing and not given any depth at all because it's not the point. But man, there's SO much there in the little throwaway details and unexplored backstories, and I fully believe that's what is fueling a large part of the fandom to this day.

[lila-went-missing]

I saw you wanted req's for Clarisse !! and I had a cute (well I thought it was cute) Hear me out !! You're Percy's older sister but you've been at camp for a few years so you and Clarisse have had more time to talk and get closer, sooo coincidentally once Percy came and after he and Clarisse had their fall out she finalized the relationship (not to be petty but just to get under his skin a little bit.. but also she didn't wanna do something to Percy and have you upset with her and ruin the progress y'all made.) But !! Percy only found out when you guys were eating at your table and Clarisse came by and didn't say anything to him, she kissed you but as she was walking away she muttered a half-assed apology to Percy. Bro's dumbfounded but you break the news to him, and as the loving brother he is and the fact you and Clarisse have known each other it's only fair he happy for you !! (You keep him safe from her.) SORRYYY this is so long but Clarisse makes me giggle, I hope you're having an amazing day !

I've been so excited to write this but I'm also such a procrastinator so sorry if this took a long time to come out. You're literally so sweet I hope you have an amazing day.

Warnings: Mentions of blood and wounds, it gets slightly suggestive once but nothing happens, cursing i think, I'm not going to lie to you this sucks especially the ending.

This took forever because I'm the medically expensive one in the family and I've been in and out of doctors offices for over a month now. This isn't proofread, I trust grammarly and move on. I love you all so much, enjoy my lovelies.

When the Waves Come In

Being a forbidden kid was anything but easy. Monsters could smell you more than others. The gods hated you. Trouble and tragedy seemed to track you down wherever you went, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. The only perks? Having a cabin to yourself and being slightly more powerful than other demigods. If you were being honest, that wasn't really a fair trade.

Not to mention, the other demigods at Camp Half-Blood either hated or praised you. There was no in between. You were claimed only seven months after arriving at camp, this made a lot of unclaimed kids unhappy with you. Like it was your fault that Poseidon was kind of proud of you once? It's not like he's bothered to reach out since then.

Over the last three years of living at camp, you've made some decent friends. You got along pretty well with most of the Hephaestus kids, Beckendorf immediately taking a liking to you for your stubbornness. The Apollo kids liked you, they even let you help lead archery classes. But there was one person that you were closer with than anyone else. Clarisse. Your Clarisse.

You weren't friends. You were so much more than that. But at the same time, you weren't quite together either. It was very complicated. However, there was one thing you were both certain of, you like being near each other, and hated being separated. Oftentimes, she would sit at your table during meals, Chiron choosing to turn a blind eye. You would sneak her dessert every time she lost her privileges. You were her girl, that much, everyone knew.

When a new kid by the name Percy Jackson showed up at camp, you didn't think much of it. New kids arrived all the time, 90% of them never being claimed and getting left to rot by their godly parents in the Hermes cabin. It was sad, but it was the truth. You learned to live with it.

You assumed the same would happen to him, until you saw it. The horn that once belonged to the Minotaur. Grover claimed he had killed it with its own horn. Everyone believed it except Clarisse. You wanted to not believe it, but how else would he have the horn?

Of course, Clarisse being Clarisse, she had to prove that he was a fraud. The first time she did this, she was blasted by water into a wall, effectively shattering a mirror with the impact. She came to you, of course, a bruise forming over her stomach and chest. You were honestly surprised that she didn’t some internal bleeding deal going on.

“I just want him to own up to being a liar!” She ranted. “Is that too much to ask? I mean, he’s 12, he’s like 4’11, he has no muscle what so ever! How am I expected to believe that he, of all people, killed the Minotaur?” She paced back and forth over the floor of your cabin for what felt like an eternity.

“I mean, this kid shows up out of literally no where, and is getting all the glory in the world. Is everyone here really that blind? There’s no way he managed to actually kill it, yet he’s getting all the praise? How does that add up?”

You stood from your place on your bed, walking towards her and placing your hands on her shoulders. Your hands squeeze gently, trying to ground her.

“Breathe,” you whisper, “I know it sounds highly unlikely. I know you’re pissed, you have every right to be.” Honestly, if the only way you could ever get your father’s attention was through glory and winning fights, even then, seldom getting any acknowledgement whatsoever. You have to admit, you’d be pretty pissed in this situation too. I mean the only thing you could do to get anything, even an admittance that you exist, is immediately taken over by this random kid no one’s heard of? Yeah, she’s rightfully pissed.

“But I need you to breathe before you have a nervous breakdown, honey.” Your hands rub up and down her arms, feeling her muscles slowly relax.

“I wouldn’t have had a nervous breakdown.” She mutters.

“I know, but I might’ve.” Knowing her, the way she is behind closed doors, she most definitely would have. But you let her believe that she would be okay.

“It’s just not fair you know? He hasn’t done anything. Even if he did kill the Minotaur, there’s no way he wasn’t running purely on adrenaline and rage. He wouldn’t be able to do that again if he tried. He’s getting all of this praise, and for what? Existing? Being, not even a man, a boy?” Her voice is much much quieter this time, barely making it to a whisper. If it wasn’t for your proximity you probably wouldn’t have heard it.

“I know, I know, love.” You can’t stop yourself from wrapping your arms around her. “Just think, in a week or two, people will probably forget all about it. He’ll go back to being a regular 12 year old, nothing special.” Realistically, you know that sounds kind of bad, but what else are you supposed to say to her.

There was a part of you, no matter how small that part may be, that knew that wasn’t going to happen. Most demigods aren’t able to do something like that and live through it. But you knew he wasn’t like most demigods.

You knew he would get claimed, soon, most likely. From the moment you laid eyes on him it’s like you could feel it. What happened in the bathrooms only confirmed your suspicions. While you didn’t say anything to the girl in front of you, you knew who he was.

He was another forbidden kid. Not just a forbidden kid though, your brother. A son of Poseidon.

***

Capture the flag was the next day. From the moment you woke up you could feel the energy surging through the air. This was one of the most anticipated events of the summer. The only thing you really won was a party and bragging rights. I guess to camp full of the competitive people you’d ever meet, that was all you needed.

It was definitely all Clarisse needed. She loved to win and hated to lose, a trait she inherited from her father. And she’d be dammed if she was going lose another game of Capture the Flag.

That’s why you’re so confused when she tells you that she’s changing the plan. She never changes the plan, finding solace in a good strategy.

You understood more when she explained what she was doing. Revenge on the new kid for blasting her with toilet water. When you put it like that, it sounds logical. But knowing Clarisse, and knowing what you know, you can’t just go along with it.

“Clar, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” You both paced around each other in your cabin, similar to last night.

“Are you seriously telling me that what he did was okay?” Her voice raises with every word.

“No! I just- I have a bad feeling! I don’t want you to get hurt!”

“I won’t! I can handle myself, you know this!”

“I know! But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to worry about you!” Your heart beats out of your chest with every step you take towards each other.

“I can’t believe this! You really don’t think I can do this!” Before you can even formulate a response, she’s grabbing her stuff and walking out the door.

You follow her of course, yelling her name, but it’s no use. She doesn’t turn around. She doesn’t even pause in her steps. You watch her disappear behind the door of cabin five.

The door to cabin three shuts as you slide down it. Your head hits the wood as you lean back, sure to give you a headache later. You can’t find it in yourself to care though. A tear slips down your cheek. Then another. Then another.

You know it’s a bad idea. She will go after revenge. And she will get hurt. But you also know that there’s literally nothing you can say to her. You want to, but it’ll only make things worse. That's the thing about Clarisse, when she gets her mind set on something, there's no changing her mind. All you can do is patch her up afterwards.

The red team has kept the flag near the water ever since you were claimed. They made sure that you were never far from it, blasting anyone in the face if they got too close for comfort. You weren't going to lie, it was potentially one of your favorite things to do.

So, as per usual, you were patrolling the edge of the water. No one had really gotten close enough, which was very disappointing. Until the new kid ran out of the woods and immediately tripped and fell on his face. Your whole body straightens immediately, muscles tensing. You pull out your sword and move towards him. He probably doesn't want a fight but it's better safe than sorry.

He had a few cuts littering his arms and cheeks. His clothes were dirty and he was now covered in wet pebbles. You could tell that he was disoriented and panicked. You were about to approach him when one of your sort of girlfriend's brothers ran out of the woods after him. Miles. One of her sisters followed suit, Trinity, you think her name was. Dear Hades they're actually going through with it.

Clarisse comes barreling out of the woods after them. Before you can even think about jumping in the sound of metal on metal fills your ears. Swords and shields clash. A spear jabbed at his chest. Her spear. You wanted to get between them, help him, protect him. Even if he didn't know it yet, he was.

But you couldn't. Everything moved so fast you didn't have time to react before they were all rolling over the ground. The water fed off of your emotions, grabbing her siblings and ripping them away from the fight. But it was too late. You saw the spark come from in between them. You heard the wood snap. Half of the spear was in her hands, the other half in his as his body rolled with the momentum.

It felt like time froze for those few seconds. The water was still. The wind stopped blowing, birds stopped chirping. The air around you seemed to disappear. You couldn't breathe. All noises cut out as her guttural scream ripped through the air, lasting for what felt like an eternity.

She ran forward, grabbing the front of his armor and jerking him forward. The conch blew, the blue team ran across the river carrying the flag. She ran off into the woods, it didn't take long for you to follow behind her, grabbing the pieces of the spear as you went.

Before you fully made it away, you saw the trident above his head. That's the moment you realized that you should've placed bets. You would've made bank, but that's not really your concern right now.

You find her in her cabin, facing away from the door, sitting on the edge of her bed. If you look close enough you can see the way her shoulders shake. You place the pieces of her spear on a table near her bed before kneeling behind her. Your arms wrap around her front, pulling her in.

Her back rests against your front, her head tucking back into your neck. You feel the way her shoulders tremble and shake in your gentle hold. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. A few tears slip down your cheeks that you don't mention. You don't push her. It's very rare she lets anything like this happen. She feels like showing these kinds of emotions would make her weak. It didn't matter how many times you assured her otherwise. Sometimes you can't change a person's thoughts when they're the only thing that person has ever known.

After what feels like forever, she speaks. Her voice comes out shaky. It's the kind of soft you only hear late in the night after sneaking into her cabin.

"That spear- it was the only-." A sob escapes her throat and you can feel the way it moves through her whole body, consuming her completely.

"I know honey.." You whisper in her ear. Your arms subconsciously tighten around her muscular frame.

"It was the only proof that he could ever love me." You swear you can feel your heart shatter. You've never liked her dad, but even so, you knew how much that spear meant to her. Her fathers traits were very prominent in her from the moment she was born. Her anger issues kept her in trouble, never getting help. Never being accepted. Her father was the only hope she would ever have until she met you. But even then she was so terrified of losing you...

"It'll be okay.. I promise." Your words a hidden promise of protection.

You're not sure what happens that night but you know something changes. Her arms wrapped around you a little tighter. Her breaths came a little deeper, more relaxed. Your finger over more of her scars, tracing them with the delicacy that was only ever seen in the hands of the greatest artists. When you thought about it though, she was the only work of her art that would ever be worthy of such care.

When you wake the light hits the two of you in a new way. As if Apollo made Helios shine it on the two of you alone so he could write the greatest love hymns that would ever be seen by mankind.

Her siblings don't question your presence. They never do. Why would they when it's so rare the children of Ares are able to find such peace. So rare they can find such a level of acceptance within another person.

For a while you sit there and watch the golden light dance across her bronze skin. The way it shines around her face, the face you've kissed so many times. The face you long to kiss right now. You don't sneak out this morning, instead staying curled into her side. The beating of her heart threatening to lull you back into a peaceful slumber.

Then the conch blows for breakfast, causing her to stir. Her eyes flutter open, turning into pools of golden honey as the light swims in the sweet waters. A small smile creeps onto her lips as her eyes meet yours.

"Hi." You whisper. Your hand strokes over her cheek.

"Hi, baby." Her voice is as soft as the way she looks at you. Before you know it she's leaning forward and placing her lips on yours. It's the first time but it doesn't feel like that. It just feels... right. Something about it is so perfect. The way your lips fit together like long lost pieces of a puzzle.

"What was that for?" Your lips remain parted when you pull away. "I just, wanted to kiss you." She mutters in reply. A blush covers the expanse of her cheeks. You never thought you'd see her so flustered. "Can you do it again? Kiss me again?" She smiles and nods at your words before leaning in and pressing her lips back against yours.

They're soft and warm as they slide against yours. It feels like coming home after a long day of training. Your favorite person right in front of you with open arms.

When she pulls away, she's smiling wider than you've ever seen her. "I really should have done that a lot sooner." You can't help but laugh at her words. "I've only been waiting for four years!"

"Why don't we make up for that?" She leans forward, resting her hand on her waist and pulling your body against hers. A chuckle leaves your throat.

"Maybe later, right now, I really want breakfast." You peck her lips once more before rolling out of bed. "Come on!"

It's not long before you're both dressed and making your way to the dining pavilion. As much as you would like to sit with her, she's already on thin ice with Chiron. You take your time getting your food and burning it, not wanting to be separated until absolutely necessary. Eventually though, you have to part ways and join your newly-claimed brother at the Poseidon table.

"I'm surprised you're not more banged up if I'm being honest." You say as you take your seat. There's not a single scratch on him.

"Annabeth kind of shoved me into the water, next thing I know everything is healed." He answers, you can tell he's nervous knowing your connection with Clarisse.

"Perks of being Poseidon's kid, that and our cabin is a lot less crowded." He laughs lightly at your words.

"You're telling me! It's nice not sleeping on the floor." The both of you go quiet for a while, eating in comfortable silence. The breeze is cool against your skin, a nice reminder of the weather barrier. When you look up, Percy is looking behind you with pure fear in his eyes. You expect to be greeted by a monster when you turn, instead you're greeted by your girlfriend.

You can't help but chuckle at the look on Percy's face. You really can't help but laugh at his face when she leans down and presses a kiss against your cheek. "I'll see in training later, right babe?"

"Wouldn't miss it." You kiss her jaw before she turns and jogs off towards the arena.

"She- you-" He looks utterly dumbfounded as what he just witnessed. "What just happened?"

"She's my girlfriend, Percy."

His mouth drops open with the most surprised look you've ever seen. "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" You don't really care if it is, but you ask anyway. "No, no I just, didn't take her as the type to really date anyone." He answers.

"Most people don't, I'll do my best to keep her from pulverizing you." A laugh escapes you before you take your leave.

Life didn't seem too bad.You had a new brother, you were dating the girl you'd been in love with for years. You might even be able to convince her to leave him alone. You'll get her spear fixed as a surprise birthday gift.

You can feel everyone's surprised eyes on you as you walk out. There's no doubt the entire camp knows by now, and there's no doubt that a billion rumors will be floating around by dinner time. But there's a part of that just, can't find it in you to care. How can you when you have everything you've wanted right there in front of you.

[aurora-starwars]

Oh my gosh your requests are open! I’m so hyped. Can I maybe request like a Dad! Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader where reader is just so much like Tsu’tey, stubborn and always spites him but they still get along? I can picture Jake missing his na’vi brother and his daughter is just him all over again. I mostly think of Ghost by Justin Bieber to be Jake trying to relive the short time that him and Tsu’tey get along.

Grief Is The Price We Pay For Love

Pairing: Dad!Jake Sully x Daughter!reader (platonic)

Summary: Jake can’t stop seeing Tsu’tey in his oldest daughter

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: mentioned violence, like one or two curse words

Word Bank: Kuru - Neural Queue; Olo'eyktan - Leader of the clan; Ikran - banshee, large flying animal; Iknimaya - rite of passage for the Omatikaya; Omatikaya - na’vi clan on Pandora; Pa’li - direhorse, horse like animal; skxawng - moron, idiot;

A/n: It has been a while, and for that I am truely sorry, life just kept sweeping me away. But I enjoyed writing this! Thank you for requesting! Please enjoy!!!!!!! <333333333333

Masterlist

As soon as she was born, her yellow eyes seemed to pierce Jake Sully’s just as Tsu’tey’s used to.

 Born alongside Neteyam, [Name] bore the distinct features of the Na’vi. Kuru starting at the top of her head, prominent lack of eyebrow, three fingers. All features he should associate with his mate, Neytiri, the mother of the twins. But as Jake watches her grow, he can’t help but see his fallen Na’vi brother.

Jake thought it would fade away, that it was something from his past haunting him and his daughter didn’t actually look like the reincarnate of Tsu’tey at all. Besides, if he were to see Tsu’tey in anyone, surely it would be his remarkably Na’vi son, who bore many of the same traits of his sister. But as they grew, Jake and Neytiri both could see just how similar [Name] and Tsu’tey actually were.

It started early, when they were teaching Neteyam, Kiri, and [Name] to walk, a fairly simple and necessary step for any child. This didn’t stop little [Name], who was a little less than a year old, from being stubborn. Neytiri and Jake started by holding their arms, lifting them up onto their feet so that they could stand. When they could stand, they would let go, moving away slightly in hopes they would follow. The ‘they’ was just Kiri and Neteyam. When they tried to help [Name], she only swatted her hand away and pouted, giving the most hateful glare one could receive.

Regretfully, Jake laughed at this, earning a smack to the shoulder from Neytiri. How could he not have though? [Name] looked just like Tsu’tey like that, acted like him too. Jake smiled fondly at his oldest daughter, who soon after tried to stand on her own, feeling left out from her siblings.

Another time Jake saw Tsu’tey in [Name] was when he was teaching [Name] and Neteyam how to hunt. They weren’t very old, five or six max, and they still had a lot of learning to do. This, however, did not stop [Name] from trying to teach Neteyam how to use a bow, despite hardly knowing how to use one herself. It was day three of teaching the kids and [Name] was on Neteyam’s back about his posture. She kept hitting his belly, telling him that he had to tighten his muscles, hitting his arm, telling him to raise his elbow. While she was right, Jake couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, how many times did Tsu’tey mock and criticize his form? Too many to count.

By the time Jake came to the present, Neteyam had half-heartedly thrown his bow down, huffing in frustration before running up to Jake and hugging his leg.

“[Name] is making fun of me!” Neteyam’s weak voice whined.

“It’s not my fault you suck!” [Name] laughed, her small hands on her hips.

Ever since then, [Name] seemed to beat out Neteyam in every subject. In skill, she beat all of the young warriors her age. She was quickly becoming one of the best warriors of her age, of the clan! Jake was more than proud. Proud of not only his daughter’s success, but just how Na’vi she has become. Na’vi, just like the most Na’vi person he knew.

Tsu’tey.

No matter where she went, [Name] would always remind Jake of Tsu’tey. Remind him of when they got along. And when they didn’t.

Like the day after her Iknimaya.

Jake knew he shouldn’t be worried, she wouldn’t be alone, and yet he did not want her to go out riding ikran with her friends. Her friends where nice kids, all warriors like her, that he has taught, but she just bonded with her ikran, the bond was new, and he did not trust [Name]’s ikran just yet. He remembers Bob, it took a few days, at least a week for them to completely trust each other. He did not want [Name]’s ikran to get spooked by something and leave her for dead.

[Name] did not take this news very well.

She was just leaving their family home, a wide smile on her face, when Jake stopped her. He knew she was so excited to attempt her Iknimaya and was even more proud to have successfully bonded with her own ikran. That is why he was not surprised to see her smile fall, her ears pin back, and shoulders slump.

“What? Why?” she wasn’t unreasonable, if her father had a good reason, she would respect his commands.

“Baby girl, I have said you cannot go, do not argue with me,” unfortunately Jake was not great at communicating.

[Name] gave him a piercing glare, shooting daggers that seemed to wound Jake immediately. But he could not show it, would not show it. He is the Olo'eyktan, he must act like it.

But does not stop the pained look that washes over his face once she had walked away.

Later that night, Neytiri scolded him lightly for preventing [Name] from enjoying time kids her age for once, instead of taking care of her siblings or training. While Jake was still apprehensive about the situation, feeling as if his fears were justified, he felt his rules might have been too strict this time.

It was good timing for this resolution because not even an hour later, [Name] arrived back to the family hut, having been gone all night riding her ikran with her friends.

Jake stood up immediately, making his way to the entrance of their home, waiting for [Name]’s eyes to meet his. When they did, [Name] seemed to have more composure than him, he almost felt threatened by her eyes. As if he was the one to do something wrong, not her.

“Where have you been? I thought you were with your siblings?” Jake was more than confused, was she not just sleeping in her room with her siblings?

“Dad, we both knew where I was, no need to do this,” she did not seem angry, but she did stand her ground like the grown warrior she was becoming.

“Do not worry, Father. I have been watching the others,” Neteyam remarks, walking out of the Sully kid’s shared room.

He lays a hand on his father’s shoulder, “If anyone can go out alone on ikran and be fine, it is my sister. If anything, she was protecting the others, and you know they fight well.”

Jake smiles at his son, patting the hand on his shoulder. Jake nods, looking down as if thinking before looking back up at his daughter. He smiles at her, extending a hand, an invitation.

Her piercing gaze drops, her smile reaching her face again as she breaks out into a warm laugh, taking her father’s hand. Jake pulls his daughter and son closer, bringing them into his chest, where they rest their heads.

Later that night, all Jake can think about is how [Name] seemed just like Tsu’tey in that moment.

Tsu’tey patted Jake on the back, a harsh sort of pat, one you would give if you secretly wanted to do harm to the other.

“Jakesully, you do not understand our ways, you will never be one of us,” as much as his words sounded serious, with the smile on his face and the light tone in his voice told Jake that this was more affectionate than hostile.

Jake aimed his bow again, taking in a deep breath, eyes locking onto the makeshift target. He sucked in his stomach, raised his elbow and let go.

“Ah, pretty good,” Tsu’tey nodded, looking at the bulleye. “For a dreamwalker,” he teased, playfully smacking Jake’s shoulder.

Jake noted Tsu’tey’s smile was light, out of character for the Na’vi who usually wore a piercing glare around him. The smile was unusual but welcomed and only helped Jake prove to himself that he was, in face, becoming one of the people.

But what really sealed the deal for Jake, was when he assigned Lo’ak, Neteyam, and [Name] as look out for Lo’ak’s first mission.

He only let Lo’ak join because he had become awfully annoying with his pestering. Always on about how if [Name] and Neteyam could go, why couldn’t he? Jake figured that Lo’ak would lose interest or get too scared to do anymore if he let him join. How wrong he was.

Lo’ak was a pain in the ass as always, and Neteyam and [Name] were doing their best to keep him inline. The whole way to the checkpoint was full of non-stop chatter and jokes about how he was going to destroy the RDA, how he was going to beat them all up all on his own. [Name] though her eyes might get stuck with the amount her eyes would roll.

“Lo’ak, shut your damn mouth or I will tell mum what you keep in that basket in our room,” [Name] practically barks.

Lo’ak goes quiet, and [Name] can see the purple of his cheeks, even from where she is on her ikran. Neteyam smiles at her, and she takes that as a thanks.

The problem came when they arrived at the checkpoint, bombs went off, the train went off track, and Lo’ak decided he wanted a piece of the action, diving his ikran in the direction of the pa’li riders.

[Name] just held her hand up at Neteyam, telling him to keep on look out, and she dove to join her youngest brother.

When she landed, she found Lo’ak holding a gun, letting out a battle cry.

“Lo’ak!” [Name] came running, eyes dark and her ears pinned, straight for Lo’ak.

“Put that thing down,” she ordered, shoving the gun into someone else’s arms. “Today is not the day to be a skxawng, let’s go,” [Name] grabbed him by the ear and dragged him back to his ikran.

Jake watched this from where he was stationed, feeling a glimmer of pride for his daughter in his chest and a sparkle of deep annoyance for his son. But he was left little time to think before Neteyam warned him of an incoming RDA aircraft.

When they made it back to base, the three young warriors lined up, all three practically unscathed but their sisters still came and checked on them.

Jake looked into his eldest daughter’s eyes, he saw a warrior, a warrior that cared for her loved ones, one that did not take BS. He saw Tsu’tey. His na’vi brother. He looked into her eyes, yellow eyes filled with focus and determination, and he brought his hand from his forehead downwards in a smooth motion.

“I see you, daughter.”

Master-list

A/n: Thank you so much for reading! My requests are open so please feel free to request! <3333333

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @adrunkskeletonsduck @luvlykrispy @tainted-artist4161 @gamorxa @valentineheartzz @nighttimemoonlover

[cxrdycxps]

Cat and Mouse • Joel Miller

Main Masterlist • Joel Miller Masterlist

☢️ sexual assault (past) • reader’s motto is gaslight gatekeep girlboss • cocky Joel (needs a warning) • slut Joel • smut • miscommunication ☢️

This was supposed to be one part. It got away from me. I have no regrets. Part two will be up tomorrowish

Joel had a nod. It was a respectful greeting he used for a very specific set of people. He used it exclusively to acknowledge women he had fucked. Tommy had lost count of the amount of women he offered the nod to.

How he was getting away with making his way through half the population of Jackson, Tommy would never know. His brother had given the nod to nearly every single woman of an acceptable age range in town.

“Are you gonna start again once you collect them all?” Tommy asked one evening. He was trying to share a drink with his brother but Joel was like a damn bobble head with all the nodding he was doing.

“Huh?” Joel asked and Tommy only sighed, shaking his head. He took a sip of the watered down whiskey and remembered a time it was him nodding his head at all the women in down town Austin. He had no idea how Joel was able to keep up now.

Tommy was happy to have Maria now, someone to come home to at the end of the day. Someone to share everything with. He could never go back to giving away parts of himself to different women every Friday night. It was made all the better by the fact that it was Maria who chose to love him for all his faults. He didn’t get complacent with her love, he worked for it every single day.

While Tommy was driven to distraction thinking of his wife Joel had found a new target. Tommy watched him lock eyes on you and shook his head, pulling his brother back down into his seat. “Not her.”

“Not her? Why not her?” Joel asked in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He looked back to you again and Tommy could see the allure. The tight jeans stole all the attention in the room, your laugh was like a sirens call. But Tommy couldn’t allow it.

“Not up for debate. You can fuck every single woman in town but her. She’s not an option. You’re not allowed.” Tommy didn’t explain his reasoning, only shook his head. Joel grinned at his brother and shook his hand off. “I’ll treat her real nice, promise.”

Tommy let him go. He thought it was personal, that you were a friend of Tommy’s or something. Tommy had never even gotten close and he wouldn’t dare to. You were the choice of most single men in Jackson and some not so single men. But Tommy had watched you chew every last one of them up and spit them all out.

You played with them like a bored barn cat and a field mouse. You let the run rings around you and just when they thought they’d won you deal the killing blow with one lazy swipe of a paw.

Tommy wanted to hate you. Maria had to deal with more than one bruised ego and tell them that no, embarrassing them and breaking up with them was not enough reason to kick you out of the commune.

The men knew better. You’d been doing it for the two years you’d been in Jackson, seeming to take sick pleasure in luring the men in and bringing them down a peg or two. Tommy could only thank the god above you never went near the married men or he knew there would be hell to pay from the possessive wives of Jackson.

You seemed to have some morals, atleast.

Well, that wasn’t exactly fair either. Tommy knew some of what happened to you before Jackson. How the men had treated you in your last camp. They had done much worse than a little embarrassment and ego checking.

Tommy watched you turn into the tap on your shoulder from Joel as he played the polite southern gentleman, just trying to squeeze by to get some drinks. You weren’t fooled, Tommy could tell, even if Joel couldn’t.

And so the game began.

///

“Pardon me, ma’am.” You looked over your shoulder to find Tommy Miller’s brother with an almost bashful look on his face, his hand retreating from where he had tapped your shoulder. “You mind if I squeeze in?”

You blinked at him before smiling demurely, moving a step back so he could reach the bar and gesture to Seth for a drink. You shared a look with Lou, your friend that you had been drinking with, over his shoulder and she shook her head with a laugh and turned away. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Well with good southern manners like that and a Texan twang you can’t be anyone other than Tommy’s-” You paused to look him up and down slowly. “Big brother?”

“You’re gonna tell me Tommy’s got manners?” Joel asked with a laugh, accepting his drink from Seth and leaning an elbow on the bar.

“Nah but I’m sure one of you had to have them.” You told him, smiling when he laughed. You were jostled from behind by someone heading for the bar and you pressed against Joel before backing away slowly. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” He was laying the accent on thick and you smiled at him, looking up from under your eyelashes. You rested one hand on his arm for balance when you were jostled again. “I don’t think we got a proper introduction. I’m Joel, Joel Miller.”

You gave him your name and stepped back to extend your hand to him. He shook it slowly before lifting it and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. You laughed in delight. “Oh you really are a gentleman. I thought those were extinct.”

“Endangered maybe, I don’t know about extinct.” He still held your hand, his thumb smoothing over your skin. You blinked slowly at him when a particularly rough jostle shoved you into his chest. His arm wrapped around your waist to steady you and you apologized when you caught yourself with both hands on his chest. “You wanna watch where you’re going, buddy?”

You turned in Joel’s embrace, his arm still tight around you, to find Nolan. You fought a wince knowing that this game could be over before it started if he decided to run his mouth. “It’s fine Joel.”

“It ain’t fine, he can apologize.” Joel insisted and you couldn’t quite tamp down the wince this time when Nolan looked up at you. “Right now.”

“She ain’t worth the breath of an apology.” Nolan scoffed and you bit back a laugh. You had really hurt his feelings and you hadn’t even been trying, not really. “Dirty whore.”

“Now I know you ain’t-” Joel’s chest swelled as he started to defend you and you let your laugh loose.

“Nolan, sweetie. I’m sorry that you and I didn’t work out but it ain’t my fault and I ain’t no whore.” You reminded him, your voice gentle. “I think you just had too much to drink.”

Nolan stared at you for a second, his jaw tense before he looked over your shoulder. “Yeah, that’s it. Sorry about that.”

A low whistle reminded you that you were still in Joel’s grip. He let you go when you twisted back to look at him and found his impressed smile. “Solved that a lot tamer than I woulda.” Joel told you honestly.

“Awh Nolan doesn’t mean any harm.” You told Joel and looked over your shoulder to find the man with his back to you. “Being truthful? Me and Nolan used to date. It’s hard when it doesn’t work out. Jackson is so small.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. Always bumpin’ into each other after the fact. Can’t be easy.” Joel allowed and you nodded, a small smile on your lips.

“You sound familiar with the feeling but I was under the impression that you don’t date.” You stole his glass to sip at his drink and he raised his eyebrows both at your comment and your cheek. “We women talk, Mr Miller.”

“Well, like you said. It gets messy. And I don’t like mess.” He admitted, waving at Seth for another drink. You smiled and tipped your head back, finishing his drink.

“I quite like messy.” You told him, catching Lou’s eye where she was lingering off to the side. “Pity you don’t. Cause I don’t do one night stands. Nice talking to you, Joel.”

“Wait, what?” Joel asked when you grabbed your purse from the bar stool. He looked from the empty glass you placed on the bar to your back as you walked away, arm linked with Lou.

Seth rested Joel’s drink on the counter and he took it, ignoring the chuckling bar man. He found his seat beside Tommy again and watched his brother try to hide his smile. “Count yourself lucky. That’s easier than the other men get off.”

“That’s the problem, Tommy.” Joel finished his drink in one swallow. “There wasn’t any getting off. But I’ll change that. She’s sweet, real sweet.”

“She’s gonna chew you up and spit you out, big brother.” Tommy assured him with a laugh. “But someone’s gotta bring you down a peg.”

///

You heard him before you saw him. The thin walls of the greenhouses held no secrets. A fact that a lot of people forgot when they wanted to go gossiping.

Joel Miller wasn’t gossiping though. He was looking for you, asking Betty where you might be found. He had gone as far to check up on your rotation to find you today. That seemed like someone who would play your game.

You didn’t look up when Betty sent him in your direction, picking the strawberries carefully. You were splitting them between baskets, trying to be fair with the size and number distributions. He paused on the threshold but you only hummed under your breath, turning away to grab several more baskets to fill. He cleared his throat and you made yourself jump a little, spinning around to face him.

“My God, Joel.” You huffed, a hand on your chest. He was grinning at you, proud to have caught you unaware. “I was in a world of my own. Make a little noise next time.”

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind, sweetheart.” He leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not an easy woman to track down.”

“Is that so?” You asked him, turning to face him. You leaned back against the work bench, your hands behind your back. “What’s got you tracking me?”

“Can’t a man be neighborly?” He asked, an eyebrow raised and you laughed. He straightened up from the door way and you were in awe of his size, how his broad shoulders filled the space. “Making sure you’re doing alright after putting Nolan in his place the other night?”

“I ain’t worried about Nolan and we ain’t neighbors, Mr Miller.” You reminded him and he looked slightly abashed to have been called out so thoroughly. You wanted to cup his red cheeks and coo at his embarrassment. A big man like Joel, he’d hate that he liked you doing it too.

“If a man was looking to get a little messy, how’d he go about it?” Joel asked and you smiled brightly as his forwardness. “Asking for a friend, of course.”

“Oh well, you can tell your friend that I got a three date rule.” You told Joel, turning back to pick your strawberries. “I like to be wined and dined, not rushed out the back door the following morning.”

“And if he’s got a kid that can’t know. Can that wining and dining be discreet?” Joel asked and you shrugged, turning with a basket of strawberries in your hand.

“If your friend wants to come and cook me dinner in my home, away from prying eyes, I wouldn’t complain.” You told him, holding the strawberries out to him. “For your friend.”

“I’ll be sure to pass all’a that on to him.” Joel tipped his head at you, that infuriating nod he gave all the other women in town.

“Don’t nod at me like that. I ain’t a sure thing and I ain’t your conquest.” You huffed, annoyed you had already given him the strawberries. “You can tell your friend he better try harder than you do.”

“Yes ma’am.” Joel sounded properly chastised but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking up at him when he left with a muttered thanks for the strawberries.

You released a breath and smiled to yourself as you finished with the strawberries. He was such an adorable man for the sheer size of him. So quick to apologize when he was in the wrong too. It was endearing.

///

“Fancy seeing you here.” Joel looked up from the basket of blueberries he was examining closely. “Those blueberries hurt your feelings or somethin’?”

“Ellie doesn’t like them too soft.” He explained and you stepped closer to him, looking over the baskets of berries. You selected one and passed it to him. “Thank you.”

“I know how she feels. It’s kind of gross when they turn to mush.” You admitted, lifting a bundle of wild garlic and checking each leaf. “Friday evening. I finish work at seven, by the way.”

“Seven?” Joel asked, his interest moving from the open collar of your blouse to your face. He didn’t look embarrassed to be caught looking.

“If your friend is still looking to get messy.” You prompted and he blinked, nodding his head slowly. You reached for a red bell pepper and turned it over in your hand. “I mean, if he’s up for it.”

“Up for it?” Joel asked, reaching over you to pick a bell pepper of his own. He didn’t bother examining it, tossing it into his basket. You sighed and pulled it back out, tilting it over to show him where it had gone soft.

“Some men aren’t up to the challenge of having to actually get to know someone. Especially when there’s no promise, or even chance, of sex at the end of the night.” You explained while picking a separate pepper and handing it to him. He copied your inspection this time before placing it in his basket.

“I can hold a conversation. Just because I only usually spend one night, doesn’t mean it ain’t a damn good night. You won’t be the first woman I’ve wined and dined.” Joel huffed and you raised your eyebrows.

“You really know how to make a girl feel special.” You huffed, turning on your heel. You checked in with the stall owner and let them check off the food you were taking, ignoring Joel’s attempt to get your attention. The market was too crowded for him to navigate it as quickly as you had.

Joel was left staring after you feeling wrong footed again. He wasn’t sure how he managed to always mess it up with you. Saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, doing the wrong thing when things were going so good.

He sighed and returned to the stalls, looking over the produce in search of something inspirational enough for dinner with you on Friday. If he was even welcome at this point.

Joel didn’t avoid dating for the mess if it ended badly. He didn’t date cause he hadn’t dated anyone since he was sixteen. Fucking was easy. Dating was complicated.

He stared at the uninspired fruit and vegetables and shook his head, turning on his heel and leaving that decision for later in the week.

///

“Come now,” Tommy sighed, leaning back on your porch with a glass of lemonade in hand. He was regretting agreeing to be on landscaping duty this summer. He was getting too damn old for that old push lawnmower. “He’s not a bad guy. You could just cancel on him.”

“I ain’t cancelling on him.” You shook your head and Tommy sighed. “It ain’t really any of your business either. Joel and I are both consenting adults.”

“He doesn’t know what you’re like.” Tommy sighed and you blinked at him. He didn’t know you well enough for the way he was talking to you.

“What I’m like?” You asked, standing up from the porch swing. Tommy looked up from his spot on the porch steps. “Tell me, Tommy Miller, what am I like?”

“You treat it like a game.” Tommy sighed. You wondered if he was brave or just stupid. “You chew men up and spit ‘em out. You don’t care about hurtin’ them.”

Tommy was leaned with his head back, eyes closed to block out the sun. Like an idiot, he fell for the same complacent safety that everyone in Jackson did. You hadn’t quite gotten that lazy yet and so you could see Joel approach.

“God, Tommy.” You sighed, arms wrapped around yourself. You had yourself twisted away from the direction Joel was approaching from. “I didn’t realize you bought into all the rumors. I’m sorry, I’ll call it off with Joel if you want. I just wanted to get to know him.”

“You got no idea the things the men in this town say. I know it all.” Tommy sighed. “Just leave Joel out of it.”

“I’m sorry.” You repeated, mouth downturned. “He was nice to me, ain’t too many men been nice to me in my life. He was safe. He stood up to Nolan when he called me a whore the other day. No one ever stood up for me before.”

Tommy looked up when your voice turned thick, suspicious eyes cracked at you. Joel cleared his throat and Tommy knew instantly. You had to give it to Tommy, you liked him. He was loyal to his wife and he took no bullshit from anyone. But he wasn’t going to get in your way.

“Joel!” You put as much surprise into your voice as you could without over playing your part. “We gotta put a bell on you or somethin’.”

“Joel-” Tommy tried but his brother only shook his head, not listening.

“Listen Joel, I hate to do this but I don’t think I can have dinner on Friday.” You padded down the porch steps. You hadn’t put on actual clothes yet, enjoying a rare day off to lounge around in shorts and a camisole. You knew it was working in your favor when Joel smiled gently at you.

“You ain’t cancelling on me cause my brother is an idiot. I’m a big boy, I make my own decisions. I’ll be here Friday and you’ll eat dinner with me.” Joel insisted and you looked back at Tommy who had his jaw clenched.

“I don’t wanna cause any trouble.” You insisted, blinking up at Joel. He only shook his head, raising his hand to tuck some of your hair back. “Honestly Joel, Tommy is right. I got a bit of a reputation with the men in town. I don’t know why I can’t get it right.”

“Let me worry about Tommy.” Joel promised, a dark glance in the direction of his brother. “It’s just dinner, Sweetheart. I ain’t proposing.”

“If you’re sure? I’ll understand if you-”

“Aht. None of that. I’ll be here, with bells on if that’s what you want. Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna have some words with that brother of mine.” Joel leaned forward and kissed your cheek softly. You smiled up at him and had to shake yourself from the distraction of how gentle his lips felt against you.

“I’m working.” Tommy was sat up on the porch now, eyes narrowed at you both. You fought the urge to smirk at him, you didn’t actually want to come between the Miller men. “Got lawns to mow.”

“I’ll keep you company. Make sure you ain’t running your mouth.” You turned back to Joel with a small smile.

“You want some lemonade?” You asked him softly and he smiled down at you, nodding.

“Honey, if it’s you offerin’ I’d probably accept puddle water.” You laughed lightly, heading back for the porch where one very grouchy Tommy Miller was sitting. He narrowed his eyes at you while you passed him and only looked away when Joel cleared his throat.

You paused once you were out of sight and listened to the pair of brothers grumbling at each other.

“You mind your goddamn business. I’m a grown man, I think I’d know if I was being manipulated.” Joel snapped at Tommy who only sighed.

“You got no idea.”

///

“I gotta admit, I’m impressed.” You were sitting on the counter by your oven, watching Joel cook. Your bare heels were kicking off the cupboard doors under the counter, giving a rhythmic background noise to join the sound of bubbling from the pots. “Kind of expected you to be a microwave man.”

“I can be.” He admitted with a laugh and you smiled, staring down at the stir fry he had chosen to cook for you. He claimed it covered all the bases; light enough for the summer heat, filling if you were a vegetarian, and easy enough that getting distracted by talking to you wouldn’t ruin the meal. “Most nights I’ll have a baked potato done in the microwave.”

You wrinkled your nose at him but he only shrugged at you. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“I’m gonna knock it. I don’t need to try it.” You laughed and hopped off the counter, heading for your drink cabinet. “Whiskey?”

“Mm, no. Check my bag there, brought you a little somethin’.” You smiled at him before ducking into the hallway where he had left his bag. Opening the zip and exposing the contents had you calling Joel’s name in delight.

You carried the bottles back into the kitchen and held them up. Joel laughed at your giddy smile when you placed one bottle down and moved to open the other one. “Where’d you find actual wine?”

“We had a patrol a couple of weeks ago into a new town. Found a couple of them.” He told you, watching as you swapped the whiskey glasses for wine ones.

“Would you like a glass now?” You offered and he nodded with a smile when you carried one over to him. “You really took me seriously.”

“Wined and dined, Sweetheart. I’m a man of my word.” You took your place alongside him again and watched him check that the noodles were cooked. He’d had to trade a day of labour in the stables for the noodles. He really had pulled out all the stops.

“Color me impressed.” You sipped at your wine and nudged his hip with your knee. “I should’ve never doubted your skills.”

“Ah, I owe you an apology for that. I ain’t treating you how I treat other women. I know this isn’t just one night.” Joel promised and you smiled softly. “I keep putting my foot in my mouth around you. Can’t think straight when it comes to you, I guess.”

“Charmer.” You rolled your eyes and hopped off the counter again. You stole both wine glasses and placed them on the table, bringing Joel the plates so he could serve up dinner.

You had set either side of the small dining room table but Joel only shook his head, moving his place setting so he was sitting at your right hand side, closer than you had put him. “How are we supposed to get to know each other from that far away?”

“It’s like a foot and a half?” You asked, eyebrows raised. He only shook his head again, settling himself in and taking a sip of his wine. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

You hadn’t actually thought about the conversation during dinner and you had the sudden thought that it could be awkward. Joel didn’t share those sentiments, talking away about anything that entered his mind.

He was funny, which was surprising. Being hot and having a personality was a rare deal when it came to the men of Jackson. Everything about Joel surprised you. He kept your glass topped up and even washed the dishes when you both finished with the meal.

You found yourself checked up at the end of your sofa, facing Joel who was telling you about running into a giraffe living wild in Salt Lake City. You couldn’t believe him, expressing your jealousy.

“It was kind of surreal like everything I’ve seen in the last twenty five years and a giraffe is what seems the most unrealistic?” Joel laughed. You shifted against the couch cushion with a laugh and the wine in your glass spilled out and splashed your top making you gasp at the cool of it.

“Shit, sorry.” You leaned forward, pulling the fabric away from your chest and Joel held a hand out, taking your glass from you. “Gimme a second.”

You hurried up to your room, swapping your blouse for another. At the last second you paused in your doorway and swapped your blouse for a thin camisole. Another pause had you unhooking your bra and tossing it in the direction of your hamper. You admired yourself for a moment in the mirror before heading back to Joel.

He held your wine glass out to you with a gentle smile. You took the middle sofa cushion this time, moving you closer to Joel who let his eyes dip down just barely. “I’ve always been clumsy.”

“Is that right?” He asked and you nodded, finishing your glass of wine in one final swallow. “Maybe I should head out.”

“You could.” You nodded, placing your glass on your coffee table. “In fact you probably should. But I don’t want you to.”

“What do you want?” Joel asked you softly when you straightened up, inches between your faces. He was holding himself back, you could see it. Any of those other women he would’ve already pinned to the sofa and fucked them until they screamed.

“I don’t do this. I don’t do one nights.” You whispered quietly. His jaw clenched and you swallowed nervously. “It makes me feel cheap and dirty to be used like that and wake up alone in the morning.”

“What do you want? Do you want me to leave now? Because I’ll go, Sweetheart.” He promised you softly. “If you want me to stay and be here when you wake up tomorrow then I will. And I’ll come back for dinner too.”

“Awful presumptuous, Mr Miller.” You laughed, fingers twisting together in an attempt to gather your courage. “Stay?”

“Set the pace.” He whispered and his breath fanned against your lips. Your hand moved up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him closer, your lips pressing to his.

You pressed against him, shifting so that you were straddling his lap, your tongue pressing into his mouth. He pulled you to grind against him, his big hands on your hips. You couldn’t help but moaning his name against his mouth. “Feel’s so good.”

“Tell me what you want.” He groaned when you shifted in his lap, rubbing right up against him.

“Take me to bed, Joel.”

///

You groaned against you pillow and squinted against the morning sun. You hadn’t bothered to pull your curtains last night, what with Joel fucking you into the mattress and all.

The man in question was wrapped around you from behind, still asleep it seemed. Well, most of him was asleep. He was making small aborted moves with his hips, rubbing up against the small of your back.

You shifted against him, turning in his grip to tap at his cheek gently. He shook his head and burrowed into your neck before freezing. You ran your fingers through his hair and scratched at his scalp. “Morning.”

He grunted something that sounded like a good morning and you slid your hand down between you both, circling him in your hand. He pulled his head back and blinked at you. “I think I might a little too sore for round two. But if this is okay?”

“More’n okay. You don’t need to though.” Joel promised and you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek, pumping your hand. The little movements he had been making had been enough to have his tip wet. You paused to lick the palm of your hand and resumed your movements. Joel groaned, head tipped back and tendons in his neck straining. “So fucking good.”

You wrapped one leg up on his hip and every time he bucked into your hand he pressed between your legs. You had no desire to let him push inside of you again but you couldn’t help the small moans Everytime he pushed through your wet slit, the head of his cock was kissing your clit.

He took control of the speed, deliberately moving so that you felt each slide of his cock, his own hand closing over yours and tightening your grip. “So wet for me, Sweetheart. Gotta treat that pussy good after all the abuse I gave it last night.”

You whined against his neck, your breath coming faster. He was hitting against you perfectly and you couldn’t remember ever feeling this good with another person before. Your free hand pressed against Joel’s chest, nails digging into his chest. “Fucking, right there, please. Please.”

“Cum for me. Come on. Cum for me.” Joel demanded and you wanted to scoff at him, the same words coming from the mouth of every man you slept with. But Joel wasn’t every man. Joel was better. You shuddered against him as your orgasm hit, your hand falling away from his cock. He took over, pumping himself through his own orgasm which splashed against your stomach.

“Fuck.” You pulled away from Joel, the heat and sweat making you grimace. You collapsed onto your back and he did the same, chest raising and falling quickly. “Good morning is right.”

“A very good morning.” He agreed with a grunt. You couldn’t help the giggles, pushing yourself out of the bed. “Where’re you going?”

“To shower while you’re making that breakfast you promised me.” You reminded him and his brow furrowed.

“I didn’t promise breakfast. In fact it’s time you make a meal.” Joel teased with a grin and you shook your head, pulling on your robe.

“You promised last night. I asked if you’d really stay the night and you said you’d make breakfast.” You reminded him and he scrunched up his face in an effort to remember and you smiled at him, leaning against your dresser.

He looked immaculate in the morning, so big and broad. His chest was covered in hair that tapered down to a trail on his stomach. He looked up and you laughed.

“You were right about to fuck me? Less than an inch away and I asked you if you would definitely be there when I woke.” You reminded him and he nodded.

“Ah yes, I would’ve promised anything to get into your pussy at that point.” He laughed and you froze in place, your smile slipping from your lips. You pulled your robe tighter around yourself and swallowed.

“Is that right?” You asked, your voice cold. “Anything to get your way, huh?”

He paused, arching his neck up to look at you again. At your expression he pushed up on his elbows and you narrowed your eyes at him. “Not like that. I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

“I’d like you to leave. Now.” You knew what was happening. He had agreed to play the game but now he was changing the rules.

He scrambled up on the bed and got tangled in the blankets. A knock on your front door had him freezing in place. You paused too, wondering who in their right mind was at your door at this hour on a Saturday. You stared at Joel for a second before tying your robe and hurrying down the stairs.

The door swung open to find Ellie who appraised you, eyebrows raised. “Tommy said Joel would be here. I need him.”

“You can have him.” You promised her, turning to find Joel on the stairs, buttoning his shirt. “You’re needed.”

“Yeah, I heard. ” Joel said, his voice angry. Ellie looked between you both and shrugged.

“You didn’t come home. There’s a leak in the bathroom. Tommy said I’d find you here.” She explained and Joel looked at you and away again. Tommy had done enough home improvement for you to know one thing.

“Oh my god.” You looked between Ellie and Joel and felt physically sick. “You organized a bail out if you stayed the night.”

“It’s not with it looks like.” Joel promised and you scoffed, tossing his bag at him from the hallway floor.

“Get the fuck out of here. And don’t bother coming back.”