#('A BOY AWOKE UPON HIS BED~~~')

[bamfkeeper]

Kurt has a bad night, he asks if he can stay with you.

I have my own thoughts about his past, but a lot of comics and stuff have shown it to be pretty terrible. I wish they'd show it more. Because I'm a freak who lives on angst.

Warnings: Bad dreams, mentions of past abuse/mistreatment, overall sad vibes but with comfort for our boi. Unedited lmao. Gender neutral reader. <3

WC: 2.8k

You awoke to a soft rap at your door, the grogginess in your head heavy as you slowly sat up from your slumber. The room was still dim as the gentle moonlight filtered through the curtains. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes when the rap repeated, more insistent this time, urging you to rise.

With a sigh, you slipped out of the warm cocoon of your sheets, feeling the chill of the early morning air on your skin. The floor was icy cold under your bare feet as you padded towards the bedroom door, each step making you more aware of the lingering drowsiness that clung to you.

Upon opening the door, you were taken aback to see Kurt standing there, looking quite disheveled and out of sorts. His curly hair was an unruly mess, and his clothes were wrinkled, adding to his overall appearance of exhaustion. He seemed not just tired, but also profoundly sad, or perhaps disturbed in some inexplicable way. You could see the weight of some unspoken burden in his eyes. "Kurt? It's the middle of the night..." you began quietly, your voice tinged with concern as your eyes scanned his entire body, noting every detail that hinted at his distress.

"Ja...ja, I know," he whispered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear. "Do you mind...if I stay with you tonight?" His question caught you off guard, and you blinked as the sleep faded slightly at his question. He must've had a terrible night if he was asking to stay in your room. You couldn't help but wonder what had happened to make him feel so desperate for comfort.

Kurt had been too nervous to sleep with you before, something about not being able to keep himself under control or...maybe it just made him nervous? You remembered the times he had hesitated at your door, his eyes filled with a mix of longing and fear. Despite his apprehensions, however, you were more than willing to compromise. You loved him deeply and cherished your relationship, and if he wanted to keep separate bedrooms, so be it.

You had always believed that love was about understanding and respecting each other's boundaries, and you were prepared to do just that for Kurt.

As you looked him over, you could see him shaking a bit. His hands trembled slightly, and his eyes darted around nervously. Was he nervous? He seemed really upset, almost like he was fighting back tears, and it made your chest ache with concern. "Of course you can...come on." You moved from the door and let him come in, which he quickly did, almost as if he couldn't wait to get inside.

He stepped into your room and looked around, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings with an air of desperation. His gaze lingered on the bed, as if it represented some form of comfort or solace he desperately needed at that moment.

"You can get in bed...if you want? Are you sure you're ready to sleep together?" you asked gently, your voice filled with concern and tenderness. You placed a comforting hand on his back, hoping to offer some reassurance in this vulnerable moment. However, you felt him flinch slightly under your touch, causing you to retract your hand quickly, worried that he might react poorly or feel uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry," he responded quickly, almost as if on instinct. His voice was shaky and filled with uncertainty. "I...I didn't mean to..." he rasped out a quick apology, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to explain. He looked at you with wide eyes, like he were on the verge of panicking, his face a mix of fear and desperation. You could see the struggle within him, the conflict between wanting closeness and his fear of vulnerability. You felt a surge of empathy and wished there was something more you could do to ease his distress.

"Hey, hey... it's fine, Kurt..." you reassured him gently, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "What happened... do you want to talk about it? I'm here for you, and you can tell me anything."

He looked uncertain, as if he didn't even know where to begin. His eyes were cast downward, staring at his hands while he absentmindedly fiddled with the fabric of his clothes. After a moment, he glanced up at you, his eyes searching for reassurance. "I... just want to lay down... bitte," he murmured softly, his voice almost a whisper. You could see the weariness in his expression and knew he needed some time to process whatever was troubling him.

You both managed to crawl into your bed, with him making himself right at home, curling up in the sheets and laying down. He curled up like a cat, his legs drawn up close to his body, and his tail wrapped around him as he nestled into a tight ball. The sight of him doing this was both endearing and concerning. You could tell that something was wrong, but you didn't want to push too hard for him to open up and tell you about it. Instead, you chose to give him some space, hoping that in time he would feel comfortable enough to share what was bothering him. You watched him for a moment, your concern growing.

You slipped in next to him, slowly and gently pulling the blankets over the two of you, wrapping you both in a comforting cocoon. He seemed so meek and vulnerable in that moment, which was quite unexpected and strange to see. He murmured an apology to you, his voice soft and filled with regret, looking up from his little spot. As he uncurled ever so slightly, you noticed the weariness in his eyes. "I have not had...the best of nights," he confessed, his words carrying weight you didn't like to hear.

"How so...?" you questioned gently, your voice soft and filled with concern, wanting to be patient, yet also eager to understand what was troubling him. You slowly scooted closer, trying to offer comfort through your presence, hoping that your proximity would provide some solace. Kurt sat up a little more, his posture shifting as he took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with a heavy sigh. His eyes seemed distant, as if he was searching for the right words to articulate his feelings, the weight of his emotions clearly visible on his face.

"I had a bad dream," he started, cringing to himself at how childish that sounded. He felt embarrassed telling you he had a nightmare, but he wanted to get it out so you understood. "It was when I was still living in Germany, at the circus."

"Oh," you replied gently. You honestly didn't know much about the time he spent there. You only knew of the performances and the random small things he'd mention, like the colorful costumes and the lively crowds, but none of it was ever bad. You had heard anecdotes of the tightrope walkers and the clowns, but never anything that seemed dark or troubling. So you weren't sure what caused the nightmare.

"What was the nightmare of...?" your voice softly broke the heavy silence, causing him to flinch slightly. His mind wandered back to the harrowing treatment he had endured at the hands of the owner. He recalled the brief, haunting flashes of the small, cold cage he was kept in, the suffocating confinement that gnawed at his spirit. He could almost feel the searing burn in his veins from the drugs he had been injected with to keep him quiet, the chemicals coursing through his body, numbing his senses. All the while, he remembered the crowds that stared at him, their eyes cold and unfeeling, regarding him as nothing more than a mere spectacle, just another animal to gawk at and forget.

He hated remembering. How he had been stripped of all humanity, treated like a creature not meant to be. Drugged and caged, it was utterly humiliating.

"I performed...but it was not all good things. After each of my performances, I was given a drug to keep me docile and weak, making it easier for them to control me. Once the show was over, I was kept in a cage where I spent most of my time when I wasn't performing in the big tent. There wasn't anything in the cage besides some sparse hay scattered on the floor, which didn't really do much..." he mumbled. "It was cold and hard, laying on the surface hurt my joints after so long. But...what could I do?"

You listened intently as Kurt began to describe the horrific conditions he was kept in, and your heart ached terribly with every word he spoke. "They didn't give me much to eat," he began, his voice barely above a whisper. "I felt sick a lot of the time. The owner wasn't nice at all... He treated me just like the animals. When I trained, he would use a whip on me, just like he did to them." Kurt's voice was filled with a quiet resignation as he continued to recount the harrowing experiences he had endured.

The pain and suffering he had gone through were evident in his every word, painting a vivid picture of the cruelty he had faced in your mind, making you want to cry for him. You imagined a younger Kurt, being forced to flip around until his feet hurt while an angry man lashed him bloody. It made you angry, your emotions burning you up inside, even if it was all in the past.

Kurt swallowed thickly, pausing for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts. "I just...my dream was about all that," he began, his voice trembling slightly. "I was there again, back in that horrid place. I felt the cold metal of the cage around me, trapping me, making me feel so small and powerless. They were giving me drugs to make me weak, I felt the substances sap my strength and will to move at all. Strangers were surrounding me, faceless figures poking and prodding me through the bars. They were trying to get a reaction from me, as if I were some kind of experiment, as if I couldn't think or speak for myself. It was as if they saw me as less than human, just a creature to be studied and tormented."

It was truly awful to listen to. Hearing the unvarnished truth about his upbringing was absolutely heartbreaking. You couldn't have imagined he had experienced such harrowing things, especially considering that the only things he ever mentioned prior to this were lighthearted and fun. He would occasionally showcase an acrobatic skill or share random knowledge about specific animals, most of which were used in the circus. His stories were always filled with a sense of wonder and excitement, he had a ways with words, the dear showman he was.

But Kurt had never mentioned anything remotely like this before. It was as if a curtain had been pulled back, revealing a world of pain and hardship that he had kept hidden. The contrast between his usual cheerful anecdotes and this sudden revelation was stark and deeply unsettling. It made you see him in a completely new light, amazed at the strength it must have taken for him to carry such a burden while still managing to bring joy to others.

From the little he mentioned, an onlooker might not think it’s that big of a deal, but you had to consider the fact that he endured these hardships almost his entire life. His upbringing, starting from infancy and continuing until the moment Xavier found him, was filled with severe mistreatment. He was beaten regularly, starved to the point of extreme malnutrition, drugged with substances that left him in a constant haze, and kept in captivity as if he were one of those beautiful but tragic animals in a zoo. This cycle of abuse and neglect shaped his entire existence, leaving deep emotional and physical scars that would take a lifetime to heal.

And he somehow still managed to see the good in the world. In everyone.

You could tell he was struggling to continue, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and exhaustion. Instead of pressing him with more questions that might overwhelm him, you just gently tugged him a little closer, offering silent support. "It's okay," you murmured softly, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance. "You are here now, somewhere safe. I'm here with you, I always will be." You wanted him to feel every bit of your sincerity. As you spoke, you pulled him to lay even closer, deciding that tonight was a good night to be the big spoon, wrapping him in your protective embrace. He needed you right now, and you were more than happy to provide him with the comfort and security he needed.

Kurt scooted closer, his tail wrapped securely around your leg and his face buried deeply into your chest. He loves you profoundly, cherishing not only your presence but also how you allowed him to share something so deeply personal without any judgment or excessive questions. He didn't feel like explaining or answering questions at that moment. He just... needed your comfort, your warmth, and the unspoken understanding that you would be there for him no matter what. Your silent support made him feel safe and accepted, his eyes burned with tears that threatened to pour out, he tried so hard to hold it in.

You could feel his body shake more intensely as he laid there with you, his shoulders racked with silent crying, and you couldn't stand to see him in such pain. The sight of his sorrow broke your heart into pieces. Your hand gently rubbed his back in a soothing manner, and you tugged him closer to you, your arms tightening slightly around him as if to shield him from his anguish. "It's okay," you whispered softly and reassuringly, trying to convey all the love and comfort you could through those simple words.

Your reassurance helped immensely, providing him with the comfort and security he desperately needed. He cried quietly, finally giving in to his overwhelming emotions and letting out everything he had been holding in for so long. For months, he had bottled up all his problems, always putting others before himself and never considering that he should prioritize his own well-being. The weight of his emotions had been building up for so long, and the bad dreams he had been experiencing recently were the final straw that pushed him over the edge. It was a release of months of pent-up emotion.

He needed this release desperately; it was a cathartic experience for him, allowing him to purge the overwhelming emotions that had built up inside. And you were there, steadfast and unwavering, grounding him amidst the turmoil that threatened to consume him. You were his shelter, his rock, supporting him with soothing whispers and tender kisses on his temple as he cried quietly against you. Kurt tried his best not to let his tears fall on you, but you didn't care in the slightest. Your only concern was to keep him close, right against your chest, providing the comfort and solace he so desperately needed.

Kurt's crying gradually slowed down and he finally stopped, his little sobs quieting and his uneven breathing becoming more steady, only hitching every so often as he tried to calm himself. He stayed curled up against you, feeling more comforted and secure than he ever had before in his life. In that moment, he cherished you deeply, more than words could express. "Danke...I..I did not mean to get so...emotional," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with embarrassment about his unexpected breakdown. He glanced up at you, seeing the kindness and love in your eyes.

"It's okay, Kurt. I promise. I'm here for you, no matter what you need. If you need a good cry like this, then so be it," you reassured, your voice gentle and soothing. "I just want you to know that you're not alone, you're safe, surrounded by family now," you continued, emphasizing the word 'family' to remind him that he is in a place where he is loved and cared for. "We all care about you deeply, especially me..." You kissed his forehead lightly while your thumb wiped his cheek. "And we'll get through this together. Whatever happens, we'll face it side by side.”

With your gentle reassurance and comforting presence, he finally found the peace he needed to fall asleep. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his night wasn't plagued by the harsh and haunting memories of the circus. Instead of being tormented by those painful recollections, he slept peacefully throughout the night. Nestled securely in your arms, he lovingly nuzzled even closer to your chest, finding solace and warmth in your embrace.

Undisturbed rest had eluded him long enough.

Thanks for reading.

*BAMF*

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[surielstea]

Heated Traditions

Pairing: Bat Boys x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader joins the three males in the sauna during solstice and things get more heated than just the steam.

Warnings: smut | minors dni | 18+ only | multi orgasm | foursome (f, m, m, m) | anal sex | p in v | oral (m receiving) | breeding kink | petnames | some other filthy stuff | enjoy!

4.2k words

Winter solstice had come upon Velaris like a cold gust of wind, bringing powdery snow and the hectic holidays.

When I woke up to my mate's side of the bed being empty I knew exactly where he was, out in the cold, playing with snowballs like a child with the rest of his brothers.

I, however, hadn't been expecting the small wrapped box that was perched on his untouched pillow.

I sit up excitedly, running my hands through my nest of hair a few times before picking up the box and tearing it like a toddler on her birthday.

I come across a black velvet box, a note taped to the top of it and I smile as I recognize the neat handwriting.

I'm sorry I couldn't be with you this morning but I promise to make up for it later, here's your first gift of many, happy solstice darling.

- the most handsome High Lord

I giggle at the obnoxious title he gave himself and set the note down, then crack open the top of the jewelry box, revealing a stunning violet gem connected to a silver chain that glinted beneath the morning light. I smile, running my fingers along the chain that moves like liquid. The color of the gem reminded me so substantially of Rhysand's eyes, the familiar violet I saw every night before I went to bed and every morning when I awoke, except this morning, this morning when he gifted me the ability to feel seen by him at all times.

I can't contain my grin as I fasten the necklace around my throat, wishing he was here to help as I struggle with the clasp, but eventually, I get it, and it seems even more beautiful on.

I build my outfit around the necklace, putting on a floor-length gown of lilac silk, adorned by silver rings and a sterling bracelet to match the chain.

I do a light makeup look and fix my tangled hair into a simple style, leaving the now-tamed locks going down my back.

I exit my bedroom, toying with the jewel on my necklace as I do so, walking out into the hallway before entering the kitchen where Morrigan resided, sipping a steaming cup of cocoa. "Morning," I smile softly and she returns it, silently offering me a cup of the seasonal beverage.

"It's too early to look as good as you do," She claims after a moment of silently sipping our drinks. I shrug with a smile.

"Nonsense, I just always look good," I toss her a wink and she shakes her head with an amused grin. "When did they leave?" I ask, walking over to one of the many windows in the large house, peering out at the powdery snow and the white-capped mountains.

"Hours ago, they should be back soon," She joins me at the window, staring into the abyss of blinding white that took over the entire landscape. The two of us had been so caught up staring at the outside we hadn't even noticed the door open, and hadn't realized who walked in either.

"What are we looking at?" A familiar cold voice chimes from behind me and I jump, whirling around to face Amren who had a large bag filled with what seemed to be presents.

"Gods, you scared me," Mor presses a hand to her chest and I nod.

"Likewise," I mumble but the eldest of us just flashes a smile.

"It's my craft," She shrugs with a grin that wasn't entirely fae.

"We were just looking for the boys," Morrigan says, glancing at the window once more.

"You think you'll be able to see them?" Amren scoffs, moving past me and unlocking the sliding window before pushing it open.

We wait a moment in silence then suddenly, lo and behold, Cassian's raucous laughter from the distance cuts through it. A smile spreads over my lips at the familiar sound but it's quickly wiped away as a frigid breeze gusts in, causing the three of us to huddle closer to the fire on the other side of the room. My entire body trembles against the below-freezing weather.

The low temperature sends a shiver down my spine, resulting in an overwhelming cold sensation that overstayed its welcome. I found that even minutes after the window had been pushed shut again I had still been caught shivering.

"I think I'm going to take a hot bath, I'll see you guys for presents," I say with a soft smile, and the both of them nod, waving me off as I back away from the window and pad back to my bedroom to run the bath.

I make sure the water is steaming before I plug the drain and allow the tub to fill up, I was still cold, and taking off my clothes before I was ready to get in turned out to be a horrid idea.

"If you're so desperate for warmth you could join me in the sauna," my mate hums in the back of my mind and I startle slightly, forgetting he had the ability to see through my own eyes.

"Were you looking while I was staring in the mirror?"

"Would you think anything less of me if I was?" He hums and I roll my eyes, sending the message through the bond.

"That's not an answer, and no, it's expected of you by now," I retort, crossing my arms to provide some sort of body warmth while the tub slowly fills.

"Come join us, I won the snowball fight and I wish to celebrate," He claims and I scoff, sending my displeasure to his side of the bridge between us.

"Keep it in your pants." I toss back.

"I'm afraid we don't wear pants in the birchin." He reminds and I freeze, remembering the fact that all three of those tanned, muscular males are all sitting in that cedar-lined shed naked, but most importantly, sweaty. Gods it would feel so damned good to feel that warmth at the moment.

"Darling," He drawls, pulling me back to reality and away from my enticing daydreaming.

"I thought mates were supposed to be territorial," I state, holding my ground despite the slight waver in my voice.

"I've shared before, and you never seemed entirely opposed to my brothers either," He argues as if I was to blame for his fantasies. And perhaps I was because it would be a lie if I said I hadn't thought about all three of them at once, more than once.

"I can feel your arousal, just join us we won't bite," My mate continues. "Unless you want us to," He adds and I couldn't find it in myself to deny that kind of pleasure any longer. So I grabbed my robe and tied it tightly around myself.

"Atta girl," He muses and I slam my walls up, blocking his annoying triumph out as I make my way towards the Sauna connected to the side of the house.

I had to fight back the thoughts telling me not to do this while approaching the door, but Rhys was pacing back and forth on the edge of my mind, reminding me he was waiting with just his presence.

Before I can psych myself out, I unlatch the door to the birchin and slide it open, unleashing a gust of boiling mist. But once it clears I'm met with three tan, winged males looking up at me expectantly, entirely naked.

I attempt to avert my eyes as I step into the steaming room, looking at Rhys only as I slowly untie my robe and let it dip off my shoulders. They've all seen a female's body before, this was no different. I let my robe fall to the floor but I didn't dare bend over to pick it up, their gazes were already predatory the last thing I wanted was to tempt them. I settle onto the bench right beside Rhys, facing Cassian and Azriel.

"You still cold?" My mate hums and I look up at him, silently shaking my head. A feline smile stretches over his features. He doesn't say anything else, only tilts his head back and shuts his eyes, letting the hot steam absorb him.

I look at the log-built structure of the bathhouse, the walls compacting me in here with sweating, Illyrian warriors. I tried and keep my gaze away from the two males in front of me but the task was torture and I was weak. I hadn't realized I was staring at Azriel's rippling abdomen until he shifted his hips and my head snapped away. And I definitely didn't notice when I was staring at Cassian's arms until he cleared his throat and I opted to just look at the floor.

Rhys chuckles, and even though he was looking up at the ceiling I knew he could feel both my embarrassment and my arousal.

He slings an arm around my shoulders and the touch almost burned with how damned hot it was in this room. Or had I been imagining it? Was it me who was flushed or had it been the steam?

"You have a staring problem, darling," my mate purrs, and the smile of his two other brothers grows.

"Sorry," I frown.

"Don't be," Cassian speaks up and Azriel silently smirks.

"Is it too hot in here? We could always go back to the bedroom and cool off?" Rhys suggests, pecking up the side of my jaw. I blush at the idea of our bedroom, it was so innocent yet my mind could only morph into something inappropriate.

"No, I'm okay," I shrug him off and he pecks my cheek.

"Just let me know if you change your mind, alright?" He says, and I translate it in my head that he was giving me an escape if I needed one, between the three of them he was telling me to leave before it's too late. But gods, why would I ever take myself away from this?

I only nodded, then returned to my unsolicited staring. My eyes widen a fraction when I notice Cassian was semi-hard, his heavy cock slowly rising as his eyes run up and down my nude figure and I swallow thickly, attempting not to stare for too long at his angry tip, or the vein pulsing underneath, and perhaps it was sick of me to want to run my tongue up that very vein.

Azriel's wings ruffle and it steals my attention from Cassian straight to him. He was in the same boat as Cassian, a bead of precum pearled at the head of his cock, he was much longer than the other two males I sat with, and I wanted to know just how deep he could reach inside my throbbing cunt, wanted to feel him release in my very womb.

"Darling." Rhys's voice in my head makes me jolt, earning a few concerned glances from the others. "Do you want to tell them what you've been thinking or should I?" He hums aloud and I look up at him with concern, my brows scrunched as I shake my head in panic. "You want me to?" He suggests and again, more fervently this time, I shake my head. "Then go on, tell them," He nods encouragingly and I tear my eyes from his violet ones, looking to hazel instead.

"I," My words get stuck in my throat, I couldn't even think anymore without it being utterly lewd.

"Tell them what you want to do to them, what you want them to do to you," Rhys croons, tilting his head back and delighting in the shameful torture he was putting me through.

"I want," I'm left breathless, words come up short and I can barely conjure thoughts against their carnivorous stares.

"Spit it out sweetheart," Cassian adjusts his hips and my eyes dip down to his now fully hard member, thick between his thighs. My nails dug into the bench that I was gripping so hard I thought it might snap.

"I want to wrap my mouth around your cock," I confess and if he wasn't hard before he certainly was now, his tip angry and pulsing red.

"And, Az I want you inside me," I murmur.

"Where?" Rhys cut in.

"My cunt, please I need all three of you inside me," I beg, my body glistening with sweat as they all stare at me with equally starving expressions.

"Is that right?" Azriel finally speaks and something inside me snaps, I don't feel shame anymore, only a relentless need for all three of them.

"Mhm," I nod, biting at my lower lip anxiously at the idea of them denying me and leaving me humiliated.

"Let's give her what she wants," Rhys tips his head down to look at me.

"She's been so patient, haven't you my good girl?" He asks and I blink up at him with a nod, agreeing to whatever he wants me to.

Cassian and Azriel both stand and my head whips towards them, their hardened cocks pressed against their abdomens as they approach closer. I'm wobbly as Rhys helps me stand, before he comes behind me, trapping me in a circle of all three of them. Their frames towered over me and their dark, large wings created a shield around me so any which way I turned I was met with one of their bodies.

"Who do you want in control?" Rhys tilts his head and I look between all three of them before returning to my mate.

"You," I press a hand to his abdomen.

"Yeah?" He arches his brow a fraction and I nod.

"Then why don't you go let Az stretch you out, just how you wanted hm?" He offers and I nod. Shadows twist around my limbs as Azriel's scarred hands meet my hips, guiding me closer as he sits on the bench, his legs spread as I straddle him and the others watch.

My cunt was pulsing with need as his hands travel anywhere they can reach, spending a particular amount of time at my breasts. I look back to Rhys, spotting the two others as they simply watch, their hands fisting their own cocks. My mate nods and I align myself before slowly, so slowly, sinking down onto him.

Azriel groans, tossing his head back in ecstasy as I make my way further down his impressive length. He pinches my nipples and I mewl at the intense feeling. It was so fucking hot in this room and something told me it wasn't because of the steam. I dip further down, clenching around him as my nails dig into his shoulders.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," He praises and I cry, he was pressing hard into that perfect bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me.

"Hurts," I choke out and a sadistic smile spreads across Azriel's face.

"Yeah? Am I too big for your tight little pussy?" He purrs and I nod, my bottom lip pouting out. He grips my breasts in his large hands, groping them as I squirm, loving the way I forced myself further down onto him even though it was painful, all because the pleasure outweighed everything else.

I marveled at how there could still be more of him, my cunt was being stretched beyond capacity and he loved every second of it. My moans filled the room, Azriel's grunts joining in with every roll of my hips.

Eventually, he couldn't take my slow pace and thrust up into me, all of him sheathing inside me like I was a mold for him and him alone. He turned me into a cock sleeve as he began to pummel into me and I was left wailing into the side of his neck, unable to form words as he fucked me senseless.

"Fuck," He curses, tilting his head back as I swallow him in my pussy, dripping onto him.

"More," I whimper. "Want Cass," My words were so weak that it was a wonder how the others heard me over the lewd slapping sounds of skin between me and Azriel as he drove his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Azriel shifts to the side as Cassian approaches, allowing me to look at the tall male, his cock directly in line with my mouth in my seated position.

"Suck him off, baby," Azriel grunts out, his words lustful as he watches my hesitant kitten licks down the length of Cassian's girth. I flitted my gaze up to his as I get to the base of him, then run the flat of my tongue up the protruding vein of his cock all the way to the tip, just like I wanted. He groaned at the feeling as I began to swirl my tongue around his slit, slowly forming my mouth around the head of his thick cock. Azriel continued to pummel into me so much that it was hard to focus on just Cass. I began to moan on his cock, forcing myself to take him deeper into my mouth, sloppily swirling my tongue around his member.

"Don't be shy, fuck her mouth," Rhys instructs. Cassian looks down at me with raised brows and I nod, whimpering on his dick as he grabs the back of my hair then pushes all of his length halfway down my throat. I fight back a gag and instead suck on him harder, hollowing my cheeks as my mate's best friends fuck me simultaneously, leaving me drooling from both holes.

My slobber is used as a lubricant for Cassian's cock, allowing him to easily take himself in and out from between my swollen lips.

"Gods, you're so pretty choking on my cock," He hums and I can't help but moan, sending vibrations up his spine. He groans at the feeling, his head tilting back, looking up at the ceiling as his heavy cock twitches against the soft walls of my throat.

"I want you too," I beg Rhys through our mental connection. "Please." My whines are met with his compliance, silently coming behind me. I arched up, originally for his entrance only but Azriel was now hitting so much deeper at the slight change of position.

"You sure about this baby?" Rhys asks from behind me, his large hands kneading the fat of my thighs in his hands and I nod.

"Mhm," I gargle against Cassian's cock, and the male hums with pleasure, while Rhys presses a soft kiss to the side of my neck, he then runs his fingers through my neglected folds, gathering my arousal before smearing it against his length, using it as a natural lubricant until he was covered in my slick from base to tip.

He prodded at my third entrance and I gasped out, unsure if I really could take all three of them at once, I've dreamed of this situation a multitude of times but this was somehow reality and I doubted I could fit all of them.

Rhys pushed into me anyway. I moan loudly around Cassian, my mouth clamping down onto his base and he grunts, tossing his head back. Rhys felt so damned big, continuing to push into me deeper and deeper. It felt euphoric the way Azriel and Rhys brushed up against each other inside of me through my gummy walls, pushing against them beyond capacity.

Azriel's hands tweaked my nipples, bringing me back to him and how good he made me feel, but it wasn't long until it was Cassian who had my attention, gripping the base of my hair and pulling at it whenever I sucked him too hard. But Rhys stole it quickly, his member finally sheathed entirely inside of me, leaving me helpless between all three of them.

Cassian twitched inside of my mouth and I knew he was close so I focused as best I could on him, hollowing my mouth around him and sucking hard. He looked down at me in a haze of lust, his hand on my hair loosening as he spurt his seed down my throat without any warning. I swallow, my throat squeezing around him as I do so. He begins to slowly pull out but before he can get away fully I suck eagerly at his tip, milking every last drop from him, reveling in how good it tasted beneath my tongue.

He smiled lazily down at me, seeing how just much I delighted in drinking him for all he's worth. I was drunk on his seed, warm and salty and so fucking delectable. I swirl my tongue around his overstimulated tip once more before pulling away fully, letting my attention fall to Azriel beneath me and allowing Cassian to clean himself up.

The shadow singer is strategic. He knew where every perfect spot inside of me was, and he tortured the areas like one of his victims. He didn't slow for a moment, he only went faster. He had me wrapped around him first and I had a feeling he'd get me last.

I panted, falling down onto his chest, my elbows giving out. Rhys gripped my hips and held me up in an impressive arch, my back forming a crescent moon as they both continued to pump into me and I laid there like an overworked doll, sandwiched between their sweaty bodies.

I don't know how many times I had came at this point, they were both so damned good it felt like the orgasm was a never-ending flow of euphoric bliss. "Gods," I mewled. "S'too much," My pleads didn't seem to reach their ears, they were too busy listening to the noises my cunt made as Azriel pressed into me.

"Shh, you're doing so well for them," Cassian kissed the top of my head, reaching down with a large hand and immediately finding my clit. I gasped, clenching tightly around both of them, to which they both twitched inside of me, the movement foreign yet so pleasurable. Cassian began rubbing my clit in tight, rough circles with his calloused fingertips, adding so much more friction.

"Cass, tell them I can't," I look up at him with teary eyes and pouted lips.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but this is what you wanted hm?" He kisses down the side of my face. "You wanted all of our come stuffed inside you, isn't that right?" He smiled. "Our perfect cum slut.”

I nod, my nails scratching down Azriel's chest as he rolls his hips up at a certain angle. None of them relent from their movements and I was overflowing with pleasure, my legs jolting as I writhed between them.

"Rhys," I moaned, throwing my head back onto his shoulder.

"I'm close, don't worry baby," He whispered and I nodded, a breath of relief escaping me. My hand reached up and cups Azriel's jaw, leaning down and placing my lips onto his.

He twitches at the action so I continue. I slip my tongue between his sensual lips, brushing it against any expanse I could reach, loving the way he met each flick of my tongue with a stroke of his cock running through my cunt. "Mph— are you close?" I lift slightly, looking at Azriel and he looks up at me in a haze, nodding his head. "Fill me up, please Azriel I've always wanted your cum inside of me," I purr into the shell of his ear.

"Me too," He sighs out, clawing at my waist. "Ever since I saw you I've wanted to put my seed inside of you," He confesses and I smile, delighting in how much harder this was all making Rhys which he pushed deeper and deeper into my ass.

"Yeah? Do you want to put a baby in me? Breed me?" I softly suggest and Rhys groans from behind me, my filthy words spurring him into an orgasm.

"Fuck, yes," Azriel grunts, shifting his hips and beginning to press his tip into my cervix. I cry out at the sudden change of pace, my eyes welling with tears again. Rhys' warm release pumps into me as I squeeze tightly around him, milking him of it as he slowly pulls out and Azriel goes utterly feral, bouncing me on his cock with his tough thrusts, eager to put a baby in me.

"You're going to look so pretty with your tits leaking milk," He hums. "Can't wait to get your belly all round," He adds and I let out a lewd moan at his words and how much truth they held.

"Please, feels so good," I sigh, rubbing up and down him.

"Yeah? Can't wait until I can fuck another one into you, give you a big family hm?" He suggests and I nod dumbly. "Maybe we'll all get a turn with you until you're left with all our kids," He grins at the idea. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He says as I kiss up his jaw, reveling in how fucking good it felt every time he pressed into my cervix.

"That's right, 'cause you're just our bunny who loves to be bred," He hums, cock twitching inside of me as my cunt twitches at his words.

"Yes, fill me, wanna be your bunny," I murmur onto his hot skin and he obliges with my request, his release spurting up into my womb.

I clenched tightly around him at the feeling of his warm seed continued to pump into me with his thrusts that began to slow until coming to a stop and pulling me off of him, leaving me with hot cum drooling out of each of my holes, just how I wanted.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glitterypirateduck @amara-moonlight @impossibelle @fauxdette @going-through-shit @glam-targaryen @cauldronboilme27 @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogerbarnesxx @azriels-shadowsinger @stinkinstuffie @sandramalikstyles-blog @sassyangel16 @lilah-asteria @starsinyourseyes @inloveallthetime @melsunshine @nighttimemoonlover @ireallywannasleep127 @cumuluscranium @adharanotfound @azrielsmate3 @aelincaddel @hiddlestonspassionsackx @dee-writes-smut @secretlyhers @pit-and-the-pen @mybestfriendmademe @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @circe143 @bubybubsters @joshysloshy @username199945 @notsarareallynot @vixenshiftsvrs @mahealanipunea @pey2618 @loving-and-dreaming @andreperez11 @whatsupbi8 @one-big-fangirl @moonslitluna

Comment a “💙” to be added to the general taglist!

Comment a “🖤” to be added to the Azriel taglist!

[luimagines]

Link Has a Nightmare

Another commission!

They asked for Time, Twilight, and Warrior waking Reader up from a nightmare and Reader helping them go back to sleep. :)

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

Twilight

Something kicked you.

You woke up in a start, gasping and sitting up at once. It was a harsh kick to the side that could have knocked the wind out of you if it was any harder.

You sat up and rubbed your abused side. Looking around, you tried to find the culprit that woke you up as suddenly and as brutally as they had.

Twilight was curled up beside you. His back was to you and he was shaking.

You hit his shoulder for good measure before thumping back down into your bed roll, putting more space between the two of you so he would be unable to kick you again. It was frustrating. By the looks of it, he was still sleeping. So you’re aware that it wasn’t something he did on purpose.

He kicked like a horse.

Not a fun way to wake up. It was going to bruise. You just knew it.

Grumbling, you tossed the blanket over your head and tried to go back to sleep.

Your eyes felt heavy and you blearily realized that your consciousness was beginning to fade as well. Darkness fell around you. A peaceful void-like cloud descended over you and covered you-

He kicks you again.

You sat up like a whip, turning to your side to face him head-on. You tossed the blanket off of you and moved back over, shaking Twilight in irritation.

He whimpers and it snaps you out of your rage.

You notice that he’s still asleep and that there’s a pained, almost horrified look on his expression. Nightmare, you think to yourself and sigh. You shake him again, gently this time, but it still doesn’t seem to do the trick.

You look around camp for Wolfie, but there doesn’t seem to be sight of the four-legged companion of the group. “The one time you’re not here,” You say under your breath. With a shake of your head, you take it upon yourself to be the help that Wolfie cannot give. “Move over Twilight.”

Turning him on his back, you grab your blanket and drape it over yourself. In turn, you drape yourself over Twilight, taking the place of his blanket for the night. At once his expression changes and you can see him compensate for the added weight by taking deeper breaths. His expression softens and his muscles relax. You shift as carefully as you can, making yourself comfortable on top of him.

With a deep breath, you tuck yourself under his chin and adjust the blanket as needed around both of you. Twilight’s arms come up and wrap around you. His grip is firm but comfortable.

He is very warm.

You put your ear on his chest, listening to his heartbeat and letting the warmth of your body and his combine into one. The heat, the steady drum, and the plushness of the fur and the blanket settle your mind and body. Your eyes get heavy at once.

You both sleep uninterrupted after that.

Time

You awoke to something amiss.

You weren’t sure what it was. You were still covered in the blanket. There was no fire outside of the pit. There was no sound of battle or clashing steel. Everything was quiet. Calm.

You sit up. Rubbing your eyes, you decide to look around.

Something was nagging you in the back of your head. You weren’t sure what it was, but you didn’t like the implications. Unable to shake off the unpleasant feeling, you stand up and begin to look over the boys around the camp.

They were all sound asleep, curled up into their bed rolls. Some were curled up tighter than others but that was beside the point.

Someone gasped.

It was short. The sound spiked your heartrate, instilling a sense of urgency and panic into your already heightened anxiety.

Spinning on your heel, you tried to find the source of the sound.

Time was lying down on his back, arms over his face. Because of that, it was hard to see his expression. You thought he was awake. You knew he had trouble sleeping on most nights.

“Time?” You whispered, not wanting to wake anyone else up. “Link? You ok?”

He didn’t answer and instead shivered something fierce. His breath hitched again and he turned around and curled up into himself. He looked like he was in pain. You doubted he was awake at once and frowned.

“Link?” You bent down next to him and shook his shoulder. “Time? Old Man, wake up.”

He groaned and gasped again. You frown harder. You didn’t like the look of this. Whatever he was dreaming about was doing him no favors. You tried to shake him with a little more fuss whatever had plagued his mind was not letting him go.

“No-!” He groaned and tried to fight you off.

“Stop it,” You begged. You weren’t sure who you were asking but the words slipped past your mouth anyway. Time whined and your heart broke with him.

“It’s ok,” You say instead. You rub soothing circles onto his back. “You’re safe here. We won’t let them hurt you.”

He takes a breath, waking up somewhat. His eyes blink open. You would have thought that he would have been more distraught given whatever nightmare he was trapped in. But he doesn’t open them all the way. Instead, his eyes catch you and he reaches his hand out to you.

Something tight clenches around your heart as you let him take your hand. His grip is brutal and you think there’s a tear in the one eye he’s allowed you to see.

“I’ve got you,” You whispered and settled down next to him. “You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”

Time says your name. It’s faint. It’s a whisper.

“Shh…” You run your hands over his hair, brushing it gently over his scar and behind his ear. “Sleep. I’m here this time. I won’t let them hurt you.”

His eye gets heavy but he listens and falls asleep again.

Warrior

Warrior shot up in a flash. His chest was heaving and his heart was pounding. He had woken up in a cold sweat, his blanket and layers pooling around his hips as he ran his hands through his hair. He pulled, relishing in the pain, in the distraction it provided from the images in his head.

You groaned and rolled over, blearily looking over at him. You sat up as well, looking around the group. Everyone else was still asleep. No one seemed to have heard him.

“Warrior?” You rubbed your eyes. “Captain? You ok?”

He was panting, hand over heart with his eyes shut tight. You struggled to wake up faster to help him. You still felt so tired. You’re entirely sure why you had woken up with him. You’re not the closest one to him. Wind and Sky were between you but they were still dead to the world around them.

Warrior didn’t answer you. You grunted and got up, keeping your blanket slung around your shoulders as you tried to not trip over the other two heroes. You might have kicked Sky in the foot, but he didn’t wake up so you elected to pretend nothing happened.

You dropped heavily next to Warrior and slung part of the blanket around his back.

“Link?” Your voice was groggy from disuse and your tongue was slow. You hoped that calling him by his name would get through to him better than any other thing he’s been called in his life. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” He says at once. His own voice isn’t as groggy as yours, but rather it’s haunted and strained. He sounds as if he’s in physical pain and biting the bullet to keep from screaming. “It’s… It’s nothing. It’s nothing. I’ll be alright. Go back to bed.”

You grunt again. You’ve never known him to be a horrible liar. Warrior must be shaken up worse than you thought. You huff and drop your body weight onto his side. The physical contact is enough to shock back into reality for a moment. He goes still and audible gulps. You say nothing and slowly can feel the pull of sleep dragging you under once more.

“...What are you doing?”

You jolt awake again and take a deep breath. “Helping. Shush. Bedtime.”

“That’s not-”

“Shush,” You lean over, putting a finger to his lips. You can feel the light trembling of his body. It’s annoying. How dare this happen?! At this hour?! To Warrior of all people! You scowl and it catches Warrior’s attention. “We’re going back to bed. This is over.”

“But-”

“Shush,” You stress again and push him back down to his bed roll. You instinctively snuggle closer and flop your limbs on top of him. Warrior grunts but doesn’t attempt to push you off.

“Is this allowed-?”

“You’re going to wake up the others,” You lift your hand up and drop it onto his chest, smacking him using only the force of gravity. “No more words. Sleep only. Now hush, the monsters in your head can’t get you here.”

Warrior tenses for a moment and you think you might have overstepped your bounds. Your eyes grow heavy once more, locking you in place without the intention of letting you go anytime soon.

He’s cold from the sweat that had chilled him to the bone. His heartbeat is strong and still a tad panicked. You center yourself on it and take a deep breath. The Hero of Eras is actually quite comfortable if you had to admit it to yourself.

Slowly, his arms come up to wrap around you and keep you close. You can vaguely feel his nose in your hair as he curls around you. Limbs intertwine with one another, like puzzle pieces fitting into place. You shift to make yourself comfortable as well, tucking him into the crook of your neck as your arms come around him.

You struggle to lift the falling blanket back around your bodies as your limbs get heavier and heavier. You can hear Warrior sigh beneath you. His heart rate begins to calm down and you think you can feel his hand in your hair, carding his fingers through it gently.

You pass out in an instant.

You wake up less than three hours later. Someone else was shaking you. You look up as much as you can. Even in his sleep, Warrior continues to have a death grip over you and it makes it difficult to see the offender to your sleep schedule.

Wild hisses softly when he sees you and winces. “...Sorry. I was trying to wake up Warrior for his shift. I didn’t know you were there.”

You say nothing and glare at the champion until he gets the message to leave the two of you alone.

Wild, not getting the message, looks over to see if any of his efforts have woken the captain up. You reach up and bat at his hand. The action was cat-like in nature, but one solid swipe to the back of his hand had Wild backing up and stepping away from Warrior.

To his credit, Warrior continued to soundly sleep through the movement. Exhaustion weighed heavy on him even now and you were certain that he still needed as much as he could get until the sun came up.

“I’ll do it,” You mutter and try to wiggle your way away from Warrior.

No dice.

If anything, despite his unconsciousness, Warrior tightens his grip around you and snuggles close in his sleep.

You huff and look back up at Wild. He’s biting his lip and you’re not sure if it’s a nervous tick that he’s always had, or if he’s trying to keep from laughing at your predicament.

“Not one word,” You grumble and plop back over Warrior, accepting your fate for the remaining hours of the night.

“I’ll wake up the Rancher,” Wild snickers. “He’s usually up before the sunrise anyway.”

“You do that.”

[xoxochb]

— sleepy and sleepier ꣑ৎ‧₊˚. warnings: just fluff! pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos a/n: fav dynamic fav dynamic fav dynamic!!!

It was a long day. well— not really. you had woken up at ten this morning, went and got breakfast and that’s about it. but regardless of how little you had done, as a daughter of hypnos being anywhere but your bed was utter tiresome. so, the moment you finished up your simple breakfast you headed back to cabin fifteen to hopefully sleep the rest of the day before your boyfriend would arrive tonight claiming he can “only sleep if it’s with you”

but, it appears, when you enter your cabin, that he had arrived early. when you walk up to your bed you see his disheveled raven hair, cozy underneath your blankets, lips slightly parted as he leaves a puddle of drool atop your pillow making you frown. you kick off your slippers and move percy to the side only a tad so you can sneak yourself beside him. at the new movements he awakens, and despite his disoriented state smiles widely when he sees you getting comfortable next to him

“hey, sleepy” he says, voice raspy from sleep. if you were standing your knees surely would’ve have out beneath you. for now, your cheeks flush a light pink hue

“what’re you doing here?”

percy rests his head back on your pillow, lightly grabbing your waist to pull you into him. “wanted to see you. you were gone and I guess I fell asleep waiting”

a faint smile paints your face. silly boy. “I’m here now, just went for breakfast”

you laugh softly when he nuzzles his head underneath your chin. you twine your fingers through his messy hair slowly, attempting to lull him back into the peaceful sleep he was previously in before you awoke him

“missed you today” he whispers into your skin. In response you hum quietly

“I missed you too, perce”

you feel his smile upon your collarbone before he plants a gentle kiss there. “would you mind… if I slept for a bit?”

“no,” you pull your blankets further over him to assure the coldness doesn’t touch him “go ahead”

“I love you, sleepy”

“I love you too, angel”

[anjelicawrites]

Paring: modern!Aegon II Targaryen x reader

Synopsis: AU based on the movie Happy Death Day. King of fratboys Aegon II Targaryen is struck in a timeloop caused by his violent death. Every day he wakes up in your bed, knowing there’s a masked killer on the loose. Plagued by his own misdemeanors and insecurities, he has to navigate his own budding feelings for you, and solve his own murder. Will he succeed, or will he die again?

Warnings: non graphic description of murder, botchy physics, anxiety, self loathing, alcohol consumption, hangover, crying, Aegon tries to kiss reader when they say they don’t want to be kissed, injuries, hugging, kissing, p in v sex, begging0.

A/N: reader is AFAB but not described. Where needed, they/them pronouns used.

You finish cutting the tomatoes and place them in your bowl, carefully. You know you’re biding your time and pondering all the information Aegon has just unloaded upon you; you can feel his restless energy filling the kitchen even though he’s standing by the sink, big purple eyes fixated upon you. You wish he was moving and not simply wringing his hand,   unloading all of that turmoil in some way, any way; the fact that he’s simply staring at you unnerves you, after his confession. The non physicist side of your brain is wondering if you need to call the hospital, the physicist in you knows that what he’s saying has been theorized yet never proven, it should be impossible to happen in real life, shouldn’t it?

The jingle of your roommate’s keys snaps you out of your thoughts; as much as you love her, you don’t have the mental capacity to deal with her right now.

“Will you take the mugs, please? My room is better for talking.” You tell Aegon.

“Green tea? Really?”

He has the audacity to stare at you while holding the two steaming mugs as if they personally offended him.

“Just take the God damned things!”

Behind him, your roommate is giving you thumbs ups with a smile on her face, you groan inwardly, she has no idea what’s going on.

You’re not in a chatty mood, not after last night when, a bit too tipsy for your tastes, you have picked up Aegon, king of frat boys Aegon, who has awoken in your bed, stared at you with desperation in his eyes and flopped back with a defeated ‘not again’.

Just because of that you should have kicked out of your apartment, the fact that he told you, as serious as a heart attack, that he has re lived this day repeatedly, to the point that he has lost count of the times he has woken up in your bed, tried to stop the loop, only to finish his day butchered by a masked killer, all of this should have warranted a call to the mental health office of King’s Landing University, yet you didn’t. It wasn’t because you expected him to tell you it was all a prank, or the fact that quantum physics explores the idea of time loops, it was how defeated he looked, alone against an evil he couldn’t fight.

According to him, he has woken up in your cramped room thousands of times, this doesn’t stop him from looking around, taking in all the posters you have hung over the bed and the overflowing bookshelves against each and every free wall. He’s not judging what he sees, he appears to be sincerely curious of the tomes you have to study for you classes. Not that he has the ability to understand an ounce of the syllabus, he barely follows what he is supposed to study, but his family has funneled too much money to the University, for him to fail.

“We can sit on the bed. My desk is too small.” You say, awkwardly.

“Bed, yeah.”

The first time he awoke there, he was torn between the hangover crushing his brain, and being horrified to have hooked up with you: you are so out of his fucking league he couldn’t fathom you even wanting to bed him! After the first ten times he has opened his eyes here, to relive his last day on Earth, he has learned to like the smell of your bed sheets, a mix of detergent and your own smell: probably the only good thing happening to him during this hellish experience.

He’s crushed that you have changed your bedding while he was in the bathroom. If he were to smell the pillows now, he wouldn’t be able to pick up your scent.

“Are you sure you don’t want more salt?”

“No, no, this is fine.”

There’s a lull in the conversation where he picks at his food, ignoring the elephant in the room and the ticking of time that means he’s going to die soon.

“I know how it sounds.”

You lift your eyes from your own food to stare at him. Apart from the hangover he must still be nursing, he looks like he’s aged ten years, his voice sounds hollow, devoid of any human emotion; whether or not he’s bullshitting you, there is something eating at him. 

You can’t say you know him on a personal level to judge his reactions, you’ve only seen him around with his frat boys friends and he’s always given you the vibes of someone trying to show the world he doesn’t have a single problem in his life, and lacks the mental capacity to even care for anything, it’s unsettling to see him like this, fidgety and haunted.

“It’s no stranger than any of my quantum physics classes. Look, I’m not going to bother you with the specifics, but some have theorized that time loops might be possible.”

The fork falls from his hand, it’s a miracle that his food doesn’t follow all over the bed when he sets his plate aside to grab your hand in a tight vise.

“How do I make it stop?”

His eyes have a desperate glint, the sides of his mouth are set downward, negating any hope his words might carry. You try to get your hand loose but he doesn’t let you, his grip increased until you decided to stop trying to get away from him.

“I don’t know.”

The way his shoulders drop breaks your heart. Lie or not, he is in shambles.

“I told you, some physicists talk about time loops in theory. The community can’t even decide on a possible cause, let alone how to break free from one. They are just ideas, working theories we use. As scientists we can’t even decide if time is a social construct or not!”

He hides his face in his hands, you can’t make out what he’s saying, only that his words are becoming sobs and he’s rocking on the bed, desperate.

“Look! Look!” You grab his shoulders and shake him until he stares at you, his eyes red. “The fact that I can’t give you an answer, doesn’t mean there isn’t one. Let’s walk through this together once again.”

“I already did.”

His voice sounds so small you just want to give him a hug.

“Do you really think that the big guns didn’t discuss their ideas again and again? Until they were done with the sound of their own voices? Tell me everything again, Aegon.”

“I re lived this day so many times and I still couldn’t find a solution. What makes you think that you can?”

“Because I am smarter than most and I am not personally involved. I can bring a fresh pair of eyes.”

“You would love my little brother Aemond. He thinks he’s better than anyone.”

“I highly doubt that. Stop stalling!”

You watch Aegon take a sip from his mug and set it on the floor; awkwardly he sits with his back to the headboard, facing you.

Having to spell it out all over again makes Aegon feel even worse, as if he is in the clutch of a nightmare he can’t escape and, on some levels, he is.

Come to think of it, the first time he had awoken, his bigger issue was the hangover, the blood pulsating in his head like a drummer from hell. Now he knows that you biding him good morning and asking how he was feeling, was you being a nice person, at that precise moment? He only wanted you to shut your trap and give him all the Tylenol his body could manage to absorb.

The second time? It was probably the worst, because he could feel that something was amiss, but couldn’t put his finger on it. He didn’t know you personally, then why did he feel like he’s already woken up to your smile? The walk of shame to his Frat House had been the worse part, not because he felt judged by his peers, but because his brain couldn’t put together the fact that he, somehow, knew what was going to happen: the two girls staring at him like they wanted to eat him up, the alarm of a random van blaring in the distance, the group of students falling prey to the automatic sprinkler or the guy falling all over his face, why did he feel like he has already seen all of this? It wasn’t possible.

In retrospect he knows when the two twin days diverge: at the end. The second day, as awkward as it felt, went on like the other: as soon as he was in his room, one of his friends had given him a cupcake, chocolate and peanut butter, his favorite, for his nameday, but he was too nauseous to eat it. He then went out on a walk with Sunfyre and saw the elderly lady having an issue crossing the road and he ignored her. With shame, now he recollects how badly he treated you when you came to the Frat House to give him back his signet ring, how he had told his friends that he “Didn’t know what this bitch is talking about” and took the ring from your hand.

He had gone on with this day that, suspiciously it felt like the one he had just lived, down to one of his friends popping by his room to ask him if he was coming to the party at one of the sorority houses on campus (at the time Aegon didn’t know it was a surprise birthday party for him), him ignoring his mom's phone calls for the whole day and the sudden blackout that had plunged his room into darkness.

The split happened at the underpass that connects the old Campus to the new.

The first day, he was butchered there. He had walked through a group of rugby fans wearing the University's mascot mask, Balerion, until he had reached the creepy underpass, made even more disturbing by the dead lamp posts, and the carillon left in the middle of it.

He wasn’t scared, he had thought it must have been a stupid prank from his friends, he had even joked with the person who had appeared behind him, clad in a black coverall, wearing Balerion’s mask, until the person, whomever they were, had stabbed him through the eye.

The second day he had stubbornly gone through the motions, choking on the déjà-vu feeling, until he had gotten to the underpass and noped out of there, opting to use the longer way to go to the new Campus. It still felt like trudging through a bad dream: why did he know what would happen? Was it a case of Dragon Dreaming? Perhaps all the drugs he had taken during his life had finally taken a toll on him? 

As he died, stabbed with a broken piece of dope pipe, he had thought that this wasn’t a case of Dragon Dreaming.

He tells you of all the ways he’s tried to outsmart his killer: lock himself in his room, leave campus, get arrested, nothing had worked, he would die, stabbed, shot or set afire, and would wake up to your smile and a terrible hangover.

By the time he’s finished, you have set your plate aside and reached for the windowsill, where your pack of smokes lie.

“This is all I have.” He tells you, defeated, his head hunched between his shoulders. “It’s not much.”

“It’s a lot, actually.” You answer. “Do you mind?”

His purple eyes focus on the cigarette in your hand and he shakes his head.

“I might have one myself.” He adds, fishing for his vape.

“Of course you vape.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

The genuine curiosity in his tone makes you crack a smile. You don’t answer, though, your theories about fuckboys and vaping are for another day.

Calmly you light your cigarette and take a long drag, staring at the Schrodinger’s Cat poster over your bed.

“One thing we know is that your death, albeit the circumstances, re sets the clock to this morning. Now, there are some questions we need to ask ourselves: were you supposed to die altogether? If not, why is the universe forcing you to go through that again and again?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“Me neither, which brings me to the second question: why don’t you stay dead?”

You see him turn an alarming shade of gray. Perhaps you should have worded that phrase more carefully, but you’ve already made the mess, might as well turn his focus on something else.

“Let’s see it this way. Why does the universe want to undo what’s happening to you? Why would time bend and shape itself in this way for you?”

He looks lost and so are you. Why would the fabric of the universe itself modify and go against all the laws known to mankind, for frat boy Aegon II Targaryen? Why him and not someone else?

“If I had to go by vibes alone, it feels like the universe is trying to give you a chance. Perhaps you weren’t supposed to die, your passing is like an annoying wrinkle that doesn’t want to be smothered.”

“I have been called many things, ‘annoying wrinkle’ is new.”

You see the start of a genuine smile on his face.

“Let’s say that your survival is a fixed point in time, like in Doctor Who.”

“Doctor Whom?”

“You’ve never watched Doctor Who in your entire life?”

“Should I have?”

You feel your brain wanting to go on a tirade about his abhorrent pop culture education, but you don’t have time for that, perhaps tomorrow (if such a thing exists).

“Scratch that. A fixed point in time is when an event must come to pass, let’s say the destruction of Old Valyria. Trying to prevent that will cause a tear in space and time, Old Valyria must fall or a paradox would happen, altering the fabric of reality.”

You kill your smoke and start pacing.

“Your survival is a fixed point in time. The killer, by assaulting you, causes the time loop, because time stops moving the way it should. Are you following me?”

“I shouldn’t die, when I do, I fuck everything up. That’s my life in a nutshell, really.”

You elect to ignore the self deprecating tone, there isn’t time for that.

“Everyone forgets, but you. This means your killer forgets they’re in a time loop as well, and goes for you time and time again.”

“Yeah. But how do I stop them?” 

“Simple. You solve your own murder.”

Aegon stares at you as if you’ve grown another head.

“That’s your solution? Solve my own murder?”

“Do you have another option?”

Silence falls, broken by the muffled TV sounds coming from the apartments around yours. Aegon doesn’t speak, he looks even more defeated than before; he jumps out of his skin when his phone rings. You are startled as well, too lost in his sad puppy expression to remember that there’s a world outside of your cramped room.

Aegon looks at the caller ID and elects to throw the phone on your bed with a huff.

“You’re not answering your mom? I can go in the kitchen if you need a bit of privacy.”

“She’s calling me for my nameday. She’s going to bitch about the fact that I have missed the family lunch with her and my siblings.”

He still sounds sad, with an undercurrent of frustration you’re not sure you can pinpoint.

“It’s still your nameday! You should spend it with your family!”

“I can do without feeling like I am the family failure.” He takes a long drag from his vape and sets it on the windowsill, next to your cigarettes. “How do I solve my own murder?”

You feel that he doesn’t want to open that specific can of worms, besides, the poor guy has a lot already on his plate, if you want to believe his absurd story.

“I think the fact that today is your nameday holds a special meaning to either your killer or the universe. Let’s start from there: who knows about it, and who would want you dead?”

“I never share it but thanks to my brothers at the Fraternity, the whole campus. And I haven’t been exactly a saint.”

To write down a complete list of potential suspects would be a feat: he has fucked and abandoned half of the girls on campus, there’s a couple of nerds in his class who hate him, because he will pass his exams no matter what. And there’s Aemond. 

The two of them have always butted heads, his younger brother being all Aegon was supposed to grow into.

Aegon knows that Aemond feels like Aegon has what was supposed to be his. If he could, Aegon would swap lives with him, let him be the firstborn, the one the whole family expects everything from; Aemond wouldn’t crack under that type of pressure, he would make everyone happy and proud. But, would he be so resentful to try and kill him?

“You need to make a list, Aegon. You need to pin down the people who truly might have a bone to pick with you.”

“I don’t think I can. There’s too many.”

Unexpectedly he lets his head fall against your chest. He isn’t that much taller than you are, yet the contact makes you jump, so do his arms curling around your frame.

“Aegon? Aegon what are you doing?”

You feel his lips seeking yours and you turn your head, avoiding the contact by an inch.

“Aegon, stop!”

You try to free yourself from his hold and he simply doubles the strength he uses to keep your frame against his. Desperate you try to push with your hands against his chest, evading his seeking lips.

“Please.” He begs, pitiful and pathetic. “Please, I need it.”

“No Aegon! I told you to stop!”

The shrill scream seems to awaken him from his reverie. He doesn’t let you go, but he isn’t trying to kiss you anymore.

“I am not going to take advantage of you, Aegon. You’re not in the right state of mind! I didn’t do it yesterday when you were wasted, I am not going to do it now!”

“We didn’t…?”

“No, you big dummy!”

“I… I was naked! In your bed! I never pass up the chance to have sex!”

“I slept on the covers, you idiot! I brought you home because I was afraid you would choke on your own vomit and none of your friends seemed to care! You were hellbent on not laying down in your clothes and were asleep as soon as your head touched the pillow!”

He lets you go, almost pushing you away from his body. He’s wearing a haunted look that scares you, frantic he’s searching for his belongings to leave your room as if the Stranger himself was on his tracks.

“Aegon! Aegon! Calm down, please!” You grab his arm and force him to turn around and look at you. “What’s going on?”

He doesn’t respond, he falls on his knees, hugging your waist as he cries against your tummy. It’s an ugly cry, big, fat tears and desperate, howling sounds leaving his mouth; he is at the end of his tether, drowning without a help in sight.

It takes you long minutes to calm him down, until he lets you lay him on the bed, facing you; there’s still tears flowing from his eyes but his breathing seems to have gone back to normal.

“You shouldn’t have seen that.” He says with a broken voice.

“If it makes you feel better, I have seen nothing.”

Gently you caress his short hair, slow motions that aim at calming him even more.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

“It’s all forgiven. We all fuck up sometimes.”

He stares at you, surprised, as if no one has ever told him that.

“It will not happen again.”

“Trust me. Pull a stunt like that one more time? The masked killer will be the least of your problems!”

He smiles, pained and sad, like a tired clown. At least he’s breathing normally.

“I need to go. I have left Sunfyre alone for too long. And I have a list to write.”

“Are you sure you don’t want my help?”

He sits on the bed, scratching his head.

“It’s fine. You did more than anyone would do for a stranger.”

And I don’t want you hurt by the killer, he thinks.

“Look. I don’t know if you’ll be able to stop the loop and you will wake up to a new day. If you don’t, remember that I am here to help. Tell me this story again, I do not mind. No one should face death alone.”

Where do you come from? He thinks. Why are you being so nice?

He dies, time and time again. On his way to his apartment, hit by a car. 

When he checks on the handful of girls that were truly mad at him for having fucked them and then discarded them like used tissues, there’s something akin to happiness the moment he sees that they are moving on with their lives. Some are in love, others are receiving job offers, one has adopted a cat and her smile lights her room: all those girls who weren’t even a blip on his radar, have moved on, unscathed by his callousness (he dies, five times stabbed, one drowned and one bashed in the head with a baseball bat). Even the two nerds in one of his classes, who were so mad that he had passed it, just because his surname is on half of the buildings of the University, seem to have forgotten about him: they both have bright futures ahead of them (his killer is creative these two times, they electrocute him on one instance, the second they throw him in a woodcutter).

It’s Aemond that surprises him the most.

On purpose Aegon leaves checking on him for last. In between being massacred, he has had time to reflect upon his relationship with him: he has been a shit older brother, there’s no other way to describe himself. He had made fun of Aemond, pushed all his buttons because he could; he had left him alone when he had been attacked by all the cousins and nephews and was barely there when Aemond had to go through so many surgeries to save the left side of his face. Aegon had used him as a scapegoat for his insecurities and failures; if Aemond turned out to be the killer, Aegon would offer him the blade and tell him to go to town until he stayed dead.

Aegon’s hands shake as he makes his way up the fire escape ladders on the side of Aemond’s apartment building; he wishes for a beer, or ten, hates the clarity that the time loop has imposed on his brain. He had never thought he was such a piece of shit and a failure of a human being, whoever the killer was, they’re doing the right thing in getting rid of him, if only permanently! The world doesn’t need him, everything he touches turns into shit!

He stops and takes a huge breath to calm himself down: he needs to be extra quiet or Aemond’s dog, Vhagar, will hear him and alert her owner.

Slowly, careful of each and every step, Aegon reaches Aemond’s floor. Luck seems to be on his side since his brother’s curtains are open and he can peer inside.

The huge flat screen is turned on, bathing the darkened room in a blue hue. Surely he’s going to watch a movie, probably something pretentious, by an unknown director who died at the age of twenty: Aemond is the epitome of the indie fan. 

Imagine Aegon’s surprise when he sees the movie paused on the first scene of Evil Dead and when Aemond’s date opens their arms to welcome him on the couch! 

There had been talks on campus of Aemond secretly dating one of his professors, Alys Rivers. Aegon can’t believe it’s not her the person kissing Aemond until he smiles a real smile, one that shows his dimples! And he isn’t wearing his customary eyepatch!

If the killer hadn’t crashed into him from above, sending him spiraling down the side of the condo, Aegon would have died of surprise.

As he falls down, Aegon has only one thought: at least it’s not him.

He wakes up with a scream to the stupid ringtone of his phone. He can still feel the pain of smashing his body against the pavement ricocheting through his bones, his lungs exploding with the pressure inflicted upon them: for a second he can’t breathe. He flails on your bed, desperate to get to the window and simply breathe the fresh air. 

He stumbles on his feet, deaf to your words and opens the window with a desperate screech, only when the fresh air hits his still working lungs, he starts feeling his body relaxing.

In the distance he hears you calling his name, scared.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He pants, not feeling well at all.

His whole body trembles, he can feel his legs give out under his weight, his vision turning black as he falls in your arms. He doesn’t hear you screaming for help, for someone to call an ambulance, he is drowning in a peaceful black ocean, where nothing, not even him, exists.

He slowly comes back to himself, his muddled brain slowly realizing he’s not waking up to his own ringtone; for a blessed moment he dares hoping a new day has started for him, until the soft beeping of the monitor sitting next to the hospital bed throws him back into the throes of despair: the day hasn’t finished yet.

He opens his eyes slowly, the light spilling from the windows hurting his poor, overworked brain. What happened? The last thing he remembers is fainting, and not dying.

“Thank the Gods you’re awake!”

His poor eyes focus, with a terrible effort, on your features, now scrunched with worry: why are you by his side?

“You’re here.” He rasps, his voice scratchy and lower than his usual pitch.

“Of course I’m here!”

Again, for precious seconds, he thinks you’re in his hospital room because you remember the loop, and your idea of solving his own murder; his hopes are crushed when he realizes that it had happened some mornings ago, today he didn’t even have the chance to speak with you.

“Why?” He asks.

He doesn’t want to think about all that’s happened, he wants only to hear the melody of your voice.

“You passed out in my bedroom. Did you really expect me to ignore it? Are you feeling any better?”

Aegon tries to feel his body, sore and tired, but capable of breathing and not in the throes of panic.

“A little.”

“You shouldn’t be here. Visiting hours are finished for the morning.”

The two of you jump at the foreign voice of the doctor who, seemingly, appeared out of nowhere.

Aegon thinks he knows the guy, he’s probably met him during one of the charity parties he had to attend with his siblings. The doctor’s stern behavior seems to soften when he shakes Aegon’s hand and tells him his name is Dr. Orwyle.

“We haven’t finished checking on Mr. Targaryen.” He tells you, with a softer voice. “You can come later.”

The scared animal that lives in Aegon’s chest panics: he doesn’t want you gone, he doesn’t want to be alone in this foreign environment, but what he calls his ‘training’ kicks in. He’s Aegon II Targaryen, under no circumstances he is allowed to show anyone how he truly feels, his tears of some loops ago were a mistake he can’t afford to repeat now, away from the sanctuary of your bedroom.

You aren’t too happy to leave as well. As much as you don’t know Aegon from the next frat boy infesting the campus, you feel protective of him, since he fell ill in your bedroom, and you had already rescued him last night, too drunk to even walk properly back to his fraternity building.

But you have no place here: you’re no family of his, and even his blood would probably have to leave, in order for the doctors to work their jobs.

You offer Aegon a tight smile, not liking his ashen color and the dark circles around his eyes.

“I’ll come back in the afternoon, if that’s OK?”

“It’s better if you do so tomorrow. I am afraid we have some more testing to run and Mr. Targaryen will not be here for visiting hours.”

Your answer dies on your lips when Aegon barks a strange laugh, dry and mirthless; What’s so funny about it? You think.

You leave feeling a tight knot of anxiety building in your tummy. You have been having these strange déjà-vu moments as soon as you had woken up and had started fishing for your pill, whose blister had fallen behind your too small bedside table; Aegon’s ridiculous ringtone and his head of platinum hair on your pillow had felt strangely familiar, as if all of this had happened before, which it didn’t, so why you felt so panicked when Aegon opened the window, and even now you feel like there’s something horribly wrong? And why does this day seem to be, strangely, hackneyed?

Time, when you are in a hospital bed, has a strange quality of not passing, whilst running at a crazed speed. To Aegon it felt like you had left an hour ago, instead it was already evening when he was brought back to his room, where Dr. Orwyle was waiting for him, tablet in hand.

“What’s with the long face, Doc?”

Pretend, pretend pretend: that's always been the motto of his family. Even now that he wants to flee, because the killer must be near, he tries to keep up a mask of bravado.

“We have checked your medical history, Mr. Targaryen.” Dr. Orwyle says while handing him the tablet. “Your recent battery of exams shows us…”

Aegon doesn’t let the good doctor finish.

“That I should be dead.”

My body remembers, he thinks, the same way my mind does.

“Were you recently in an accident and, somehow, your records were lost?”

Oh Doc, he thinks, if only there was a way for me to explain everything, without you committing me to a mental institution!

“I think I need a moment.” He lies, with a displeased frown on his face.

His family has pumped a disgusting amount of money into the company that owns this hospital, he knows Dr. Orwyle doesn’t want to make him angry, lest the cash flow stops.

“Of course Mr. Targaryen. One of our nurses is combing the files as we speak. There must have been an unpleasant mistake.”

“Obviously.”

For a moment Aegon thinks the doctor is unto him, knows he’s lying, but the man retires, telling him they will talk tomorrow and that he should sleep: like hell! He needs out!

As fast as his tired body can manage, Aegon removes the monitoring and unplugs the machine from the wall. He has no idea where his clothes are, not that it matters now that he knows his killer is not someone in his life and that, perhaps, the next death will be the last!

On swift feet he runs the length of the dark corridor, until he reaches the nurse’s station, where he sees a woman focused on the computer screen; fleetly he wonders if that’s the person in charge of finding the medical files that should prove he has cheated death. With the corner of his eyes, he notices the policeman sitting in front of a room, but he is too focused on escaping to truly care; when the man enters the room he’s guarding, Aegon couches and crawls, until he is not in sight anymore.

I need out! He thinks.

A part of him knows hiding is impossible, the killer will find him. Perhaps this time he will be able to survive the night, hell! Even kill the asshole! Maybe that’s the key to this paradox, if not, at least it will give him some satisfaction.

The parking lot is huge, and dark. For the first time in his life he understands what Helaena talked bout, when she said how scary it is to go get your car when it’s night: every fucking corner can house his killer, every shadow could be inhabited, and he’ll be none the wiser.

His car is back at the campus and the hospital is far too distant to make it back on foot.

Frantically, he starts checking each and every car, for the one left open by its owner: there’s always troves of people leaving their keys in the ignition, when they are in a hurry.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!” He chants. “Come one you motherfucker!”

He sees Balerion reflected in the car window, its protruding muzzle bent in a sneer and hollow eyes that hide his killer’s. With a shout he ducks and the huge knife falls hollow on the metal of the car.

Aegon rolls and scrambles back to his feet, desperately looking for the elevator: if he can make it up to the ground floor he can ask for help! 

He runs, desperate, feeling his lungs burn as he tries to breathe, the footsteps of his killer so close he can feel them gaining on him. In a last move to kill them, he grabs the fire extinguisher hanging from one of the columns of the parking lot: if only he could buy himself some time!

He doesn’t. He dies, again, stabbed in the chest and abdomen.

He puts up a good fight, even partially incapacitating his assailant with a nasty blow to their heads, but that isn’t enough to save himself and see the dawn of a new day.

As he bleeds to death on the cold pavement, he wonders how many loops he has left, and what will happen once he’s run out of lives.

His stupid ringtone wakes him up and he’s furious, tired with the universe and its dark sense of humor.

“Hi! Do you feel…”

Aegon doesn’t let you speak, he knows the spiel all too well by now.

“I feel like I have been stabbed to death which, surprise! Has happened.”

He marches to your bookshelf, ignoring your surprised stare, to grab the small pouch where you keep your Tylenol: loop or not, he always wakes up with a nasty hangover.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stares at you with a manic glint in his eyes and you take a step back.

“Of course you don’t. How many loops ago have I told you my story? And you gave me your genius solution: solve my own murder. You might be smarter than most, but it was the stupidest idea you’ve ever had in your entire life!”

You feel beyond out of depth: what the hell is he raving about?

You follow him when he leaves your apartment, slamming the front door.

“Hey! Aegon! What are you talking about?”

You manage to reach him and grab him by the arm. He feels hot and sweaty under your palm; he trudges along, ignoring your added weight.

“Did you take any drugs last night?”

This stops him. He wheels around to look into your eyes, before turning your body to press your back to his front, one arm draped across your chest, the other light on your chin.

“I wish this was all drug induced paranoia. And, as much as I like you, I don’t have the time nor the energy to tell you the whole story again so, either you believe me or not.”

Panicked, you grab at his arm. You don’t know what is going on, why he’s acting the way he is, and you don’t care, he needs to let you go.

“I’m stuck in a time loop that resets itself with my death. No, I don’t know who the killer is and I don’t know how to stop the son of a bitch. I have already told you my story some loops ago and you have forgotten.”

“Look,  Aegon, I know you drank too much last night. Perhaps you’re still confused…”

He doesn’t let you finish again and you’re going to kick him for that.

“Shut up and listen.” He tells you.

The hand previously holding your chin lifts to sign at the people around you two.

“Two girls, they want to eat me alive and I might let them, at this point.”

He forces you to walk a couple of steps, before stopping again to point at the anonymous white van parked on the side of the road.

“Alarm in three, two, one…”

Triggered by an unseen cause, the alarm blares as the lights of the van start blinking madly.

“Sprinklers!”

On your right a group of students is drenched by the irrigation system and they scramble to grab their belongings.

“Aegon…”

“The guy is falling… now!”

Too busy looking at the students, a guy wearing a suit falls all over his feet and plants himself in front of you and Aegon.

You are too surprised to speak: how does he know…?

“I told you. Time loop.”

And thankfully he’s holding you tight, or you would have fallen on your arse.

This time he tells you everything at the local diner, as you scarf down a full vegan breakfast. 

“So.” You say, drinking down your second cup of tea. “You told me all of this before and my suggestion was to solve your murder?”

Aegon looks at you from the rim of his own cup of coffee. He hasn’t eaten anything, still too nauseous from a bar crawl that happened too many loops ago, yesterday night.

“Correct.”

“And why is that a stupid idea? You have infinite lives, the way I see it.”

“I don’t. I come back from every death more tired than the one before. I am not sure how long I have, before this sticks.”

“Bill Murray didn’t have this issue.”

“Who?”

“Have you ever seen Groundhog Day?”

“No, I haven’t. You keep referring to obscure pieces of media! In that loop you quoted a Doctor… Whom?”

“It’s Doctor Who, you dummy. Have you ever watched good TV in your entire life?”

“No, I usually am out having fun.”

“Look how that turned out for you.”

You both stay silent, letting the noises of the diner fill for the non existent conversation.

“What was this Bill Murray guy's goal?”

“He kept repeating the same day until he realized what a piece of shit person he was and changed his ways.”

“Yeah. I can see why.”

Aegon hangs his head to look at his hands. Nervous, he plays with his little finger, where his signet ring should be, as his brain shows him, again, what a piece of shit he’s always been to everyone around him: his mum, letting all her hopes down, his siblings, his friends and all his lovers. They all expected him to do better, to be better and he had always turned his back at them. Sometimes it was the only thing he could do, when faced with too many responsibilities, others, he was being cruel and self-centered. 

He’s been trying now, during the loops, by helping the elderly lady cross the street and being nice to the newer additions to the fraternity. He doesn’t know what to do with his mum and all she expects from him, all of these ideas that scare him and make him want to disappear forever.

“It is daunting.” Your soft voice cuts through his thoughts. “The way a time loop makes you look at yourself. It shifts your perspective in a way none of us can truly understand. It gives you a chance though: you are more aware of your bad behaviors and can put a stop to it.”

“It is too late.” He tells you, not truly looking into your eyes.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You can always choose to do better for yourself. You can’t change the past, but you can decide not to make the same mistakes again.”

His fidgeting stops, he’s holding his hand with such a tight vise you’re afraid he will hurt himself.

“Not everyone accepts that. Not everyone wants to see you at your best, they only care about the way they want you to be.”

“Those are the people you deserve a non so polite ‘fuck off’ and zero dedication to make the relationship better. The others though, they’re worth the hassle.”

“You’re far too optimistic.” He replies, his voice dry and scratchy.

“I’m being objective. You can’t be what every single person in their lives wants you to be; it’s up to them to accept that you are your own person. Will this hurt them? Yes, but then again, they have to sort out their feelings, you can’t do this work for them. Your job is to be the best version of yourself you can offer the word.”

The chatter around your table drones your voice out of his head: which is the best version of himself? The one who had always preferred to drink and party, instead of facing the disappointment in his mom’s eyes? Or the one that had poured all his frustration on his younger brother and his foolish dream of being perfect, for the two of them? Or the one who has always felt weirded out by Helaena neurodivergence? Does he even have a better part to offer the word? His only quality is that he loves his dog more than anything, and there’s that.

Being struck in this nightmare has only shown him the bad parts of himself, and that there’s nothing more than that; even if he wanted to better himself, he knows he’ll crush under the pressure after a day or two. He is a spineless, worthless waste of air and resources that someone else would use better than he’ll ever do, who will relapse after the first, mild, issue happening in his life.

“I hope it sticks.” He says, looking at the worn out paneling behind you. “I don’t have anything good to offer to the world.”

He hears you put your cutlery aside to take a sip of tea.

“That’s the Stranger whispering in your ear. It’s always easier to follow the same, old path our brains have carved out, instead of doing the hard work to create newer ones, healthier ones.”

“It’s easy for you to say.”

“I elect to ignore that because you are upset.” The coldness in your voice snaps him back within the conversation. “You have no idea what I had to go through to be here, with you. The same way I don’t know why you value yourself so little. You are given a chance to look at your mistakes and fix them. 

I don’t know why the Gods have chosen you, but they did. I could argue for hours why they intrude in our lives the way they do, but this is not a philosophy class. This is you having to make the work: no money, no connection can help you solve this conundrum, but yourself.”

He dares to look at you. He can see that you’re angry at him in the way your lips are set, how stony your eyes are: he’s managed to let you down. A complete stranger who had showered him with kindness, only to be kicked aside.

“The serial killer known as the Heart Stealer has been admitted today into the surgical ward.”

The voice of the journalist makes the two of you jump in your seats: someone has asked the waitress to turn the audio on and the whole diner is now looking at the photos of pretty, blond coed boys, slain by the man.

Something snaps into place in Aegon’s mind: his murderer can’t be anyone he knows because it’s this asshole! He fits his victims: the age, the hair color and lifestyle. All party boys, found without their hearts and this asshole was on his same floor, during the last loop: of course Aegon had been wrong in looking within his circle, his killer was outside of it!

“It’s him!” He shouts in your face. “This time he’s going to be in for a nasty surprise!”

He ignores your voice as he runs out of the diner: he has a plan and little time to fulfill it.

Stupidly enough, the general surgery ward is not crammed with guards, nor is it sealed from the rest of the hospital: there’s only one policeman sitting in front of the Stealer’s single room.

On his way to the hospital, Aegon had listened to the radio, trying to find any form of information on the guy; unfortunately for himself, he has never cared about keeping himself up to date with the news and now his brain is trying to absorb as much information as possible. It all boils down to the bastard being in need of surgical care, perhaps, Aegon thinks, he faked whatever illness and is going to use this chance to escape.

“And he might.” Aegon murmurs against the plastic rim of the cup he’s nursing.

Aegon has zero knowledge of police work, but even he realizes that one guy, already half asleep, might not be enough to stop a serial killer.

Aegon stands up and exits the ward. During the last loop he remembers how easily he had escaped his room and floor, and that the policeman wasn’t there. His last death happened during the blackout, which means that between the cop entering the room and the asshole murdering him, there was a lull of some minutes, five maybe ten, if he wants to be generous. He needs to incapacitate the man before the lights go out, he doesn’t need to kill him, just knock him out and wait for the clock to strike midnight and for his life to go on, as it should.

There’s only one nurse at the station and she’s busy reading a cheap paperback. The corridors are dark, the only source of light is the lamp hanging over the woman, and the ones in the corridor where the cop is.

Light on his feet, Aegon makes his way to where the nurse is, wishing he had a weapon on himself: he’ll have to make do with the pen he’s nicked at the front desk.

Fast he grabs the woman and pushes the pen against her back, as soon as the cop enters the room.

“Go get help! He’s going to escape!” He screams in her ear.

The poor woman doesn’t even look at him, she runs, leaving him alone with his killer.

His stomach turns at the thought of facing the man, his many deaths crowd into his mind: what if he fails? What if this is his last chance?

His heart beats a crazy tattoo in his chest as he stands in front of the fire extinguisher sitting next to the door: a weapon as good as any other.

He breaks the glass using his elbow and grabs the cylinder, a part of his brain wondering at how heavy it is, his frontal lobe focusing on the door in front of himself: it’s now or never!

He opens it carefully, noticing the body of the police officer on the floor, and the empty bed: where is the Stealer?

The shove from behind makes him lose his footing, there’s a hand now in his hair and another grabs his jacket, slamming him repeatedly against the wall, until the extinguisher falls from his hands.

“Now pretty boys land themselves in my hands. You’re making everything too easy.”

Aegon doesn’t know what his body responds to: the breath, stinky, next to his ear, or the cruel laugh, not that it matters.

His body moves in autopilot, hands pushing against the wall to tumble his assailant back and turn around, to face the demented eyes and the scalpel; he dashes when the man tries to stab him and runs out of the room, searching for something, anything to hit the bastard.

With a strength born out of desperation, he grabs the chair left vacant by the nurse, and bashes it against the man, missing his head but hitting his shoulder; the Stealer screams and loses his hold on the scalpel, lounging at him with his hands stretched out to grab the legs to wrestle the chair out of his grasp.

In the melee neither Aegon, nor the Stealer see you coming, your body pushing with all your weight against the older man, forcing him to fall on the floor, you tumbling on him as you scratch and punch at him, screaming with anger and fear.

You’re uncoordinated, fueled by desperation and Aegon sees the Stealer snap your head, your body falling on the floor.

In horror he stands still during the precious seconds of the power outage, he screams and lounges for the scalpel as soon as the lights come back, crushing the man’s hand when he tries to go for it, his feet connecting with his head, his chest and the soft belly in a frenzy. He’s unaware that he’s screaming, that his free hand has grabbed the man’s hair and that he’s ready to stab him, stopped by the thought of breaking the loop, which will leave you to your death.

“No.” He shouts. “No!”

He’s at a crossroad again: himself or the umpteenth victim in his wake?

He lets the body of the Stealer hit the floor, the man’s face a grotesque mask of blood and spit; Aegon’s eyes never leave the man as he lays the scalpel on his jugular.

“See you during the next one.” He says, stabbing himself hoping, against hopes, to have, at least, one life left.

He wakes up with the sickening sensation of gurgling on his own blood. He dashes to the small trash basket next to your cramped desk, and empties his stomach loudly; he doesn’t feel your hand on his forehead keeping his hair out of his face, or the other you put on his back, soothing his retching with circular motions. He falls back into your front when all he can do is push out saliva mixed with bile.

“Are you ok?” You tentatively ask, crushed under his weight.

Faster than what you thought he could move, Aegon turns around and kneels between your splayed legs, his hands on yours to help you sit up.

“Never been better!” He says with a strange glint in his eyes. “Look, I know this will make no sense, but today is my nameday…”

“Happy nameday, then!”

“Yeah, yeah. Will you pop by the fraternity later today? I don’t want to go to stupid parties, I want to celebrate with you!”

“Thank you?” You answer, unsure.

What the hell is going on with this guy? You think.

“We barely know one another, though. Are you sure you’re not still drunk?”

“I know I sound manic. I feel manic! I promise I will tell you everything and the story will blow your mind! Just come after nine tonight? One of my brothers is going to give me my favorite cupcake and all I want to do is share it with you.”

“I’m not going to fuck you, Aegon.”

“What? I never said that! Just spend my nameday with me, please?”

He looks eager, if he had a tail he would be wiggling it furiously. 

“I barely know you, Aegon.”

“You do and you don't!” He raises his hand when you try to talk. “I promise I will explain everything when you come by. And nothing will happen, but us eating, I swear on Sunfyre.”

You ponder the guy in front of you: he's the king of the fratboys. You know he spends his time partying with his brothers, yet, the times you stumbled upon him, like last night, he had always given you the impression of someone desperate to escape his life, rather than your average coed guy trying to have fun. 

Sitting between your splayed legs, he doesn't look haunted, his giddiness real. 

“Ok, I will come and if you try anything…”

“I swear!”

You elected to believe the promise of a fratboy, hoping you will not regret it. 

“I need to go now! I’ll see you later!”

He jumps on his feet surprisingly fast for someone who had been throwing up in your trashcan. The hand he offers you to help you on your feet is warm and dry, the hold strong on yours. 

“Aegon! Wait!”

You manage to catch him at the door. 

“Your ring!”

“I’m sorry I was an asshole all the times you tried to give it back.” He says, lilac eyes not truly meeting yours.

“Aegon…?”

He’s already dashed out of the door, leaving you staring at his back, dumbfounded.

“What you do to guys, I swear.”

The voice of your roommate makes you jump.

“Oh! Shut up, will you?”

Aegon is prepared for tonight, and you will not be in his way to kill his murderer: everything will go according to plan and he will be able to steer his life into a better direction than the one he’s kept all along.

Aegon’s heart squeezes painfully when his mum’s name appears on his phone’s screen for the umpteenth time, along with Daeron’s; he knows his relationship with his family is a can of worms he has to deal with, being what, amongst other things, has turned him into drowning his sorrows into as much alcohol and sex he could get.

If this infernal time loop has taught him something, is that he has to take the reins and face the pain that will surely come barreling into his face, and that it’s inevitable, as his death has been for too many times.

If he thinks about it: what does he have to lose? Both his mother and grandsire consider him a failure, he knows they want him in the family company to use him as a pawn, since he’s shown them he can’t be anything else. Their opinion of him is so low that tanking it will not be any worse than being mauled by the wood chopper, and if it’s what he has to go through to live his life and not trudge through it, then be it. He doesn’t want to be the person he’s seen through the loop any longer, he wants to be different, better, even though the work ahead scares him beyond belief.

As he showers he thinks about his siblings, how he’s let them down throughout the years, made fun of them or, even worse, ignored them when they needed their older brother: what if they don’t give him a chance to heal their broken relationships? Will the universe give him that, after showing him repeatedly how bad he’s been? Is there a silver lining?

Aegon forces himself to accept the way his stomach churns as those thoughts swim through his head while he puts the cupcake in one of the drawers, away from Sunfyre’s curiosity (it feels so strange to repeat these movements loop after loop, like a marionette).

What if no one will want him ever again? Even you, whom he has never hurt?

Aegon crumples on the floor, hugging Sunfyre who tries to lick the tears flowing down his cheeks: he has never let himself feel his emotions so deeply and now they tore at him like hungry wolves. 

The pain is a physical vise that crushes him into a ball on the dirty floor of his room and churns his stomach, it flashes through his body like lashing, leaving him crumpled and shaking, still bawling even when his tears have stopped.

For a moment he lets the darkness in, that seductive voice that has always told him that he should stop fighting and drown his feelings in any way possible. All this pain is not worth it, the voice tells him, let the killer come: if you’ve done your math right, you’re going to run out of lives soon and you won’t have to feel anything, anymore.

It’s a nice idea, just drown and stop existing, then your face flashes in front of his eyes. The worry when he had broken down, too many loops ago, the gentleness of your voice trying to soothe him: would you ever let him in your life? 

He forces himself on his back, he has to physically order all his muscles to relax on the disgusting floor.

You and him belong to the same year, different degrees and friends circles, yet he’s always noticed you. You are not a party person, but you have your fun, you even came to a couple of parties thrown by his fraternity, catching his attention with how comfortable in your skin you were.

He’s seen people of any gender try to hide their insecurities using any means possible: clothing, make up, a fake personality and so on, yet he’s always noticed you more than any other person that’s ever tried to catch his attention.

If he has to be truthful, and why not be at this point? You scare him a lot. Way smarter than he is, and more confident: you don’t have to hide who you are under a fake persona, like he does, you enter the room, and if someone has an issue with it, you don’t care. Is there anything hotter than self confidence?

“We’re doing this, Sunfyre.” He tells the dog laying by his side. “And then we’ll show them we’re worth their time.”

The dog raises his head and licks his face until Aegon laughs.

He has no idea if he’s worth your time or if he has anything truly interesting to offer you, but if he needs a tether against the darkness, it might as well be trying to be the kind of guy you might like.

This time he’s come prepared: he’s nicked the biggest knife the fraternity has in the kitchen drawer, that he can easily conceal under his clothes, and he is now hiding in one of the visitor’s bathrooms. He needs to remind himself the man is armed, some idiot has let him take their scalpel, so he needs to keep him away from himself: he can’t risk dying again.

He waits, more patient than he’s ever been in his entire life, for all the visitors and the afternoon personnel to leave the ward to the night nurse and the half asleep cop. 

When he’s ready, he exits the bathroom and lets the door bang behind him, using the shadows to disguise his body as the nurse leaves her post to investigate. As soon as she’s in front of the room, he knocks her out, mumbling an apology, and lays her body in one of the stalls: one innocent victim out of the way.

His heart is ramming in his chest as he walks to the nurse station, where he crouches to avoid being seen before he needs to.

This loop he’s timed his actions perfectly: he stands the second the cop has his back to the nurse station and he’s about to enter the room: Before the man can do anything, Aegon grabs his collar and puts the knife against his back.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He says, trying to keep his voice calm. “But he’s going to escape and I need your weapon.”

The man stiffens in his hold, his hand reflexively going to the gun strapped to his hip, before the blade pushes against his back more firmly.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, son.”

Aegon cringes at the condescendent way the man talks to him: he knows more than this man ever will.

“He will escape and kill again, trust me on this one. You only need to put the gun on the floor and then go ask for backup.”

He pushes the knife against the man’s back for good measure, until he removes the gun from the holster and bends cautiously, while murmuring calming words that only fuel’s Aegon’s adrenaline.

As soon as the man is standing again, Aegon knocks him out: there’s no need for backup.

His hands shake when he retrieves the gun, surprised by how heavy it is when he lifts it to the closed door.

In this moment, Aegon is simply instinct, adrenaline pumped into his bloodstream that makes him kick the door open, the man on the bed not even stirring when the wood meets the walls with a bang.

“I know you’re awake, asshole.” Aegon barks. “Stand up, hands where I can see them!”

The Stealer opens his eyes and leers at him, his yellow teeth in full display: the outage should happen soon.

“Now pretty boys land themselves in my hands. You’re making everything too easy.” The man says, sizing him up.

“You wish!”

Aegon pulls the trigger, again and again, but nothing happens. Stupidly he looks at the gun in his hand, ignoring the threat in front of himself for a second too long.

His body slams painfully against the wall, the Stealer’s hand grabbing his wrist and banging it against the wall, trying to make him lose his hold on the firearm. Aegon tries to push back, his breath coming out in desperate pants, his free hand grabbing the man’s unkempt hair, pulling back with all his strength until the Stealer lets go, only to push him through the open door, Aegon’s feet tripping on the cop’s unconscious body.

He hears the clunk of the gun hit the floor, somewhere on his left; on instinct he kicks the Stealer in the attempt to beat him to it.

They scramble on the floor, pushing and scratching at one another, pulling each other back with desperation, rolling on the dirty linoleum, until the lights disappear and Aegon uses the surprise to disentangle himself and grab the gun.

It’s a matter of seconds, when the lights come back on, he’s standing in front of the man, gun pointed at his head.

“See you never, you son of a bitch!”

The bang is louder than he expected, and the blood spraying his hoodie is a surprise, what isn’t is the sense of fulfillment that permeates his being: he’s just killed a man and he’s relieved that he’s not going to end this day gurgling on his own blood, but with you.

You two are sitting by the window in his room with the lights off, the moonlight creates shadows on the walls as you two stare at the chocolate cupcake sitting on the floor, Sunfyre already begging to have a small bite.

“So.” You say, killing your cigarette. “Time loop.”

Aegon evades your stare, his purple eyes staring at the stars shining above you two.

“It sounds crazy, I know.”

“It’s no stranger than any of my quantum physics classes. Look, I’m not going to bother you with the specifics, but some have theorized that time loops might be possible.”

Aegon shivers. You have already said that, so many time loops ago.

“I have managed to solve mine, like the guy you told me about.”

You stare at him quizzically.

“You told me about a movie. Woodchuck Day?”

“Groundhog Day, you mean? I don’t remember us talking about it.”

“We did. During the last time loop.”

“It’s so strange. We lived lives together and I will never know about them.”

Aegon feels warmth rise in his cheeks, it’s for the better that you don’t remember, he was an arse in half of them.

“It was a nightmare. The only good thing was waking up and seeing your face.”

There, he said it. It’s not a love declaration but it feels like one.

“Don’t tell me even frat boys have hearts?”

You joke, but you can’t ignore the way his words make you feel: it’s been a while since a guy flirting makes you smile and not cringe.

“We hide it extremely well.” He’s blushing so hard he’s positive you can see it even in the dimly lit room. “Shall we?”

He offers you the cupcake, you surprise him by putting a small candle on the confectionery and lighting it swiftly.

“Make a wish. It’s your nameday, afterall.”

Aegon closes his eyes and blows on the small flame.

He wakes in your bed, awoken by the pounding in his temples and the terrible ringtone of his phone.

“No!”

He screams with so much desperation you fly yourself to him, grabbing his arms to stop him before he does anything stupid.

“Aegon? What’s going on?”

You picked him up last night, too drunk to function and so pathetic you couldn’t leave him at the pub, alone, to choke on his own vomit.

“I did everything right! I killed him before he could kill me!”

“Aegon?”

His purple eyes focus on you, filled with tears and desperation.

“I don’t want to die again!”

You don’t understand what’s happening, why he’s flying off the handle this way.

“Did you take drugs last night?” You grab his chin, ignoring his morning breath. “Aegon! Answer me!”

“I didn’t!”

“Then why are you panicking like this?”

He opens his mouth, ready to spill, again, when his mind screeches to a stop: in the midst of his own panic a part of his mind is going through the last time loop, what happened and what didn’t happen.

“I wasn’t murdered.” He says, looking at you but not really focusing. “I died in my sleep.”

And there’s only one way for that to have happened, he thinks.

“What are you talking about?”

Now you’re scared: is he having a mental breakdown?

“I don’t have the time to explain!”

He jumps from your bed and dresses himself hastily. Before you can stop him, he grabs your phone and inputs his number to call his own phone.

“Aegon! Aegon please calm down! Why are you talking about murder?”

“I promise I will explain everything!” His hands are on your shoulder, his eyes burning. “I have one little thing to do to break this fucking time loop, and then I will tell you again what I have already told you!”

You’re too dumbfounded to answer, you don’t even push him away when he soundly kisses you on the lips.

“What the hell was that for?”

“Because you're a genius!”

“Aegon, are you sure you’re alright?”

He stops by the door to your room and stares at you more lively than you have ever seen him.

“I am. As you said: I need to solve my own murder to break the loop.”

He runs to the frat house ignoring the burning in his lungs, his brain going through the various time loops, cataloging what never changed: you, the hangover, the power outage. And the cupcake.

In every time loop he was always too nauseated to eat the gift from his frat brother and then he was too focused on outsmarting his killer to even remember the confectionery. The only time he’s eaten them was with you, this last death, of this he’s beyond certain.

But, why? He wonders. What did I do to cause all of this?

His feet screech to a halt in front of the frat house: he can’t escape it, either he faces his killer, or he’ll come for him, perhaps for the last time.

He enters the big house faking a calmness he doesn’t possess. He forces his body to move slowly, to smile and joke with the other guys, until he reaches his room, where his killer will arrive, way too soon.

Sunfyre jumps into his body, putting his big paws on his shoulders and licking his face as if he hasn’t seen him in days; Aegon lets himself be swept by the love his four legged friend has for him, pure and all encompassing.

When he hears the knock on his door he orders Sunfyre to sit by his desk, the dog followsd his orderbut looks at him as if he knows something is off.

“Come in!”

Aegon’s heart is beating a mad tattoo in his chest, he hopes his face betrays nothing of what he’s finally discovered when his friend, the very Martyn Reyne who entered this Frat House with him, is his killer.

“Hey man! Happy nameday!!!”

Aegon has to stop himself from moving his body away from the other guy, he suppresses a shiver when he hugs him and pats his back, as if he hasn’t been killing him time and time again.

“Here’s a little surprise for you!”

Martyn must detect that something is wrong, Aegon realizes, because his brows knit.

“Oh yeah, a surprise it is.” He says, not even trying to hide how sour he feels.

“What’s wrong man? Did your mum call you already?”

Aegon takes the cupcake from Martyn’s hand and focuses his eyes on it, wondering what poison laces it, and why one of his oldest friends would want to cause him harm.

He knows his face has fallen, the tentative smile replaced by a deep frown.

“You know Martyn, I have come to realize I don’t know the people around me at all!”

Aegon says, circling him.

“Was it last night? We were all too wasted! We thought you were with us!”

Aegon feels no pleasure in noticing how Martyn moves to follow his movements, how false his voice is.

“Nah, it was you killing me a thousand times.”

“Aegon, man…”

Martyn raises his hands, as if to defend himself, but Aegon doesn’t let him finish.

“Did you have to get creative because I didn’t eat the cupcake? Or did you watch the news about the Stealer and thought he could be the perfect scapegoat? You intern at the hospital, it was you the idiot who let him nick his scalpel, weren’t you?”

“Aegon, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

For a blessed second, Aegon lets himself believe his friend: his killer was indeed the Stealer, and the cupcake has simply gone off the worst of ways. He’ll not be killed and wake up in your bed, and his friend is not lying to him.

He notices, though, the way Martyn’s posture has changed, he’s not pretending to be relaxed anymore; he’s still turning in a circle following Aegon, but he looks ready to pounce, his muscles straining under the gym clothes he’s wearing.

“Well.” Aegon stops his own pacing. “If you don’t know what I am talking about, you’ll share this cupcake with me.”

He grabs Martyn’s shoulder, pulling the other man closer to his own body, ready to smash the confectionery against his lips.

Before he can act, Martyn manages to disengage and push himself away, his back now facing the window.

“How did you find it out?”

Martyn’s face has lost the friendly smile and is now turned into an ugly snarl.

“I told you: you killed me a thousand times. I still don’t understand why.”

Aegon hears Sunfyre’s low growl and imagines the dog ready to pounce; he immediately puts himself between the dog and the other man, he can’t risk the health of his only friend.

“You’re mad, man. And a cunt. You want to know why I want you dead? Because you have everything and leave nothing to us mortals! Girls fawn over you! Everyone wants to be your friend and you are the shittiest person I have ever met!”

Martyn advances and Aegon is forced to do a half circle to keep his distance.

“I have to sweat for everything! And you spend your life partying! I deserve to have what you have and if I can’t, neither do you!”

Faster than Aegon can expect, Martyn jumps him with a primal scream, one of his hands shooting out to grab the cupcake and force it in Aegon’s mouth. The latter manages to push against his weight and throws the confectionery away from himself and his dog.

The two fall on the floor, fists and kicks flying. Aegon manages to dodge Martyn’s hands around his throat and stands up, heading desperately to the door as he screams to Sunfyre to stay put.

He chokes on his spit when Martyn grabs his hair and pulls him back right before he can grab the doorknob. Grunting Aegon uses his full weight to make Martyn fall on the floor, but pushes too fast and too far, realizing too late that they are free falling from his window, to the unforgiving patch of concrete in front of the fraternity house.

The alarm sounds so far away that Aegon’s ears can barely pick the sound over your moans, and his.

Your hips roll a steady rhythm and he’s desperate not to spill inside of you, not yet.

He can’t still ride you the way he fantasized while he was at the hospital, not when his ribs are still on the mend and Dr. Orwyle hasn’t given him a full bill of health; not that he complains with your breasts in his face and your delectable cunt strangling his cock.

His hands grab your hips in a desperate vise, he’s dangling upon the precipice, begging you for permission with a strangled voice. He only needs your breathy command to lose himself in your depths, you following with a long moan of pleasure.

You grab the headboard to keep yourself upright and not fall on a still healing Aegon: who would have thought that the king of fratboys could be so good in bed? A giver, bruised ribs notwithstanding?

“Have I hurt you?”

You curl against his side, too afraid of harming his ribs to lay on his chest the way you desire.

Aegon needs a second to collect his scattered thoughts, the way you fucked him has scrambled his remaining brain cells.

“Never been better.” He answers, with a dreamy smile.

While falling out of the window, he truly thought he was going to die, again, after having discovered his own killer.

He had been close to death, with broken ribs and a punctured lung, a concussion that had scared the surgeons and kept him in ICU for far too long: he’s lucky he’s made it out of the blasted time loop, alive and with you by his side.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Do you need your vape?”

“No, wait.” Slowly he sits more comfortably against the ridiculous amount of pillows you’ve provided him since he’s moved to your place.

His room at the Frat House is not a crime scene anymore, having been analyzed while he was still in hospital, yet he couldn’t force himself to set foot in there, not while he’s still trying to come to terms with all the violence he’s been through.

“You made a face when you first saw me vape.”

“I didn’t!”

“Not now. During a time loop.”

You pop your head on your hand to look better in his eyes.

“We lived lives together, and I remember none of that!”

“You said something like that…”

“During a time loop. You told me that.”

When you received the call from the paramedic, alerting you that Aegon was hurt and that he was refusing help, if the guy didn’t call you, you felt like something had snapped into place.

It had been a peculiar sensation, as if the hours building up to the phone call were gray and dull, your life more lively and bright after you closed the call and ran to the Frat House.

Initially you had thought it was the adrenaline kick you received at the news that Aegon was badly injured, then, when he told you about the time loop, your mind kept wandering to a Stephen King’s novella, The Langoliers: if you had to use that story as a metaphor, you felt like the characters after they managed to leave the airport in the past: alive. Which makes no sense to your scientific mind, yet, since no one has ever managed to create a time loop in a controlled setting, who are you to say that the days lived in that situation can’t feel dull and hackneyed?

Aegon’s phone rings again and you grab it for him.

“It’s Aemond, again!”

“Is he afraid we will not make the date with him and his girl?”

“Probably. I've always been shit at family functions.”

Aegon cracks a smile: he’s trying to steer his life in a better direction, and nurturing his relationship with his siblings is part of that goal.

You observe him with a smile on your face: despite being in different year groups, you share a philosophy class with his younger brother Aemond; you had actually butted heads with him on more than one occasion and on topics far too inane for two people who are simply minoring in that field. 

You still think the younger Targaryen is a pompous assholes most of the time, but you like his girlfriend and only the Mother knows how much you need support to navigate the mess that’s the Targaryen family!

When Aegon ends the call, you kiss the tip of his nose and he smiles at you as if you hanged the sun and stars in the sky. According to him, you were the reason he managed to stay sane during his onslaught, giving him advice and being supportive, even though your memory resat itself with every loop.

“I need to get ready.” Aegon tells you after a moment. “I need to go see my therapist in an hour. Would you be happy if we met up at the restaurant? I don’t want to be lectured on punctuality again.” He huffs.

You are so proud of him for trying to stick to the plan of self improvement he’s decided for himself. 

He still bitches when you force him to sit down and do some actual studying, instead of relying on his family name to pass his classes, but you’ve noticed how different he is, compared to the fratboy you had always seen on campus. Despite almost dying (or dying too many times), he appears happier, more focused and not just trudging through life, the way you had always seen him.

“No problems.” You stand up, gloriously naked. “Come. I think I need to finish rewarding you for completing your studies for this week.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

Gods he’s hard already, the endorphins being thousands of times better than any pain relief he’s been prescribed.

“Follow me under the shower and you shall find out.”

[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

snowed in

-warnings// lots of fluff, LOTS OF SMUT

-a lil summery// the usual fan fiction trope, two best friends in a cabin, will they kiss.. read to find out

Dean x reader

-word count// 2623

(gif from pinterest)

"Yeah, the doors completely blocked in by the snow, I've tried pushing Sammy it's not gonna budge, yeah okay I'll call in the morning. night Sammy" you sat on the bed as you listened to the phone conversation, you and the boys were hunting a wendigo and decided to split up, you with dean and Sam with Bobby

You and Dean stumbled upon a cabin in the woods and decided to check it out incase there was any victims hiding inside, turns out the place was empty but Dean slammed the door behind him causing the snow from the roof to barricade the door stopping you both from leaving.

Dean hung up the phone and turned to you with a sigh and dropped his tense shoulders "alright so Sam and Bobby are too far out and they said the storms only gonna get worse so they're gonna come get us in the morning"  Dean said placing his phone back in his jacket pocket "crap we can't even get out to get wood for the fire, it's gonna be freezing in here!" You said already beginning to feel the chill in the air

"Yeah.. well there's some blankets on the couch so you wrap yourself up nice and tight  I'll try and see if I can find some wood around the place that will get some kind of fire going" Dean said already rummaging through the cupboards.

You shivered slightly as you wrapped the worn red blanket around you as you sat down, your knees tucked under your chin in a huddle, there was a sound of wood snapping and dean was soon walking to the couch "so good news is we've got wood, the bad news... these people no longer have cupboard doors" Dean said with a small smirk 

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, "alright get them burning Winchester I already feel my toes going numb" you exaggerated making dean chuckle "you got it sweetheart" Dean said as he kneeled down with a light and the doors.

After a half hour of Dean breaking the doors down to fit in the fireplace he had the flame going and soon there was more heat surrounding the small cabin "any better sweetheart?" Dean turned to ask, you shook your head slightly "I think I'd feel a lot warmer if you got up here beside me" you flirted 

Dean threw you a smirk over his shoulder and moved beside you and pulled your small frame closer to him and tucking you under his arm, you snuggled into him and moved to wrap the red blanket around you both, "see I'm already feeling much better" you said making Dean chuckle.

You and dean continued to cuddle and watch the fire burn for a few hours talking about past hunts before you met each other "okay so you stuck a fish in the guys car, did you ever hear what happened after, did they find it or are they still driving around smelling dead fish?" You questioned and dean threw his head back in laughter as he thought back on the cherished memory "I hope they're still driving around with it" 

You yawned as the laughter died down to a comfortable silence and dean took notice "you getting tired sweetheart?" He asked and you nodded "yeah do you know what time it is?" You questioned "1:45am, there's a bedroom down the hall why don't you go get some sleep and hopefully Sam and Bobby will be here early" you nodded with another yawn

 "what about you?" Dean shrugged "i can take the couch it's actually not too bad" Dean replied and you nodded feeling bad about him taking a dusty old couch for a bed "you sure you'll be okay?" You asked and Dean smiled pulling you in tight to him for a hug "yeah of course sweetheart, I've slept on worse" he joked and you smiled before getting up with a big stretch "night dean" you said walking towards the room exhausted "night Y/N" his voices raised slightly so you could hear him.

You awoke a few hours later in a cold sweat, fear trembled within you from the nightmare as you wondered if you should bother dean, your inner battle didn't last long before your bare feet tiptoed through the cabin to the living room the dying fire allowed enough light so you could see the older Winchester, he looked so peaceful as he slept, like he never had a worry in his life but that was far from true…

You gently tapped deans arm "dean?" You sniffled and he groaned slowly opening his eyes "hey, what's up sweetheart, everything okay?" He slurred out you shook your head before taking a deep breathe "uh not really could you stay with me please I just don't want to be alone" you said as a few tears made there way down your cheeks , Dean got up from the couch quickly and pulled you into him "of course I can, you wanna tell me what's got you so upset?" He asked wiping your tears gently from your cheeks "not really, it was just a nightmare but it felt so real" you said quietly and dean nodded as he lead you toward the bedroom.

Deans and you made your way to the bed "which side do you prefer?" He asked scratching the back of his head "I'm usually a middle of the bed kind of girl" you flirted making him smirk "well alright I can work with that" you both made your way into the cold bed and dean was already wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest 

You sighed and turn around in his arms so your facing him, he was already looking down at you "you wanna tell me what your nightmare was about sweetheart? He asked as he moved a strand of hair behind your ear, you took in a shuddering breath and closed your eyes already feeling them burn with tears

 "we were hunting a demon nest  and they had you tied up as they tortured  you to the brink of death  and when I tried to help it was like I was stuck in place and I could hear you screaming, begging for me to help… and then I woke up" you said I'm a shaky voice as you felt your tears stream down your face

"Hey it's okay baby it was just a bad dream okay? I am right here and nothing's getting me I promise" Dean reassured you as he kissed your forehead head before resting his own against yours, nose to nose as he spoke "your one of the best damn hunters I've ever known Y/N I would trust you with my life and I know you would do everything in your power to save me or Sammy and if anything ever did happen don't you dare blame yourself, I need you to promise me that" dean said quietly 

"I can't promise that Dean, Sam and you mean way to much to me to promise that " you struggled out through tears and dean sighed and held you closer "I love you Y/N, so damn much" dean said quietly his lips slightly touching yours with how close he was, you froze in his arms not expecting that to come from dean, you've been in love with him for years you thought nothing would ever happen especially with deans one night stands happening every so often, you guys flirted back and forth all the time but you took that as Dean's personality 

Dean having taken your frozen silence as rejection panicked and pulled back "forget I said anything" he said as he pulled back slightly to get out the bed, you came out of your moment of shock and grabbed his arm pulling him down to you, he looked down shocked, you grabbed his scruff covered cheeks and pulled him down to a kiss

Dean groaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue in through your lips, you let out a small moan at the sensation, you wrapped your legs around his haps your feet digging into his lower back making him press his lower body closer to you so you felt his hard shaft press against your hot core through the layers 

You pulled away from the kiss slightly and dean moved his lips down your neck sucking and kissing his way down your chest "I love you too Dean, so fucking much" you said in between pleasured gasps dean moved back up to your lips immediately getting back into the heated kiss, you fumbled with the bottom of deans shirt and tugged slightly to let him know you wanted it off 

Dean pulled back from the kiss and sat back slightly before pulling his shirt off, he pulled your own shirt over your head to be met with your bare chest as you ditched your bra for bed, his smile replicated one of a child in a candy store and he was down kissing your breasts and sucking love marks all over them before taking your nipple in his mouth, his hand tweaking and playing with the other to stimulate you 

"Oh god Dean please don't stop" you begged and held his head right your chest, Dean took your words as encouragement as he continued his movements before kissing a trail down your stomach reaching your panties as you decided against wearing your jeans to bed

Dean hooked his fingers in the waistline and he pulled them down your legs slowly, once he discarded of your panties he was back between your legs, now face to face with your pussy, he smiled as kissed your mound, you moaned feeling you get wetter by the second, "pick a number sweetheart?" He asked "three why?" You replied confused he smirked "you'll see" he said before leaning in and licking a strip up your wet pussy making you throw your head back against the pillow 

Dean began by sucking your clit into his mouth before thrusting his finger inside you immediately finding your G- spot making you scream in pleasure "please dean feels so fucking good" you slurred out, Dean chuckled against you  and added another finger, he arched them to keep hitting your G-spot and sucking your clit making you arch your back in pleasure and your hand ran through his spiked hair as you pushed him closer to you 

It wasn't long before you were seeing stars as you orgasm washed through you "holy fuck dean I'm coming!" You squealed out, Dean sped up his movements as you panted, your legs shook as you came down from your high and taking deep breathes, your break didn't last long before Dean was back on you like a starving man, eating your pussy with such ferocity it had you weighing ok the bed moaning his name like it was the only hung you knew, once again you were coming hard and dean was liking it up as he didn't stop

You grinded your hips against his face feeling your third orgasm of the night already approaching, using his free hand, dean grasped your breast in his hand squeezing as he sped up his fingers as they hit your special place over and over again, you felt the familiar knot in your stomach however, this one felt different, stronger, your breathing became more ragged as you felt your orgasm take you down "Dean!" You screamed out as felt a wetness shoot out of you

Your whole body shaking as your chants of his name contined until Dean halted his movements "that was so fucking hot baby seeing you squirt" Dean said his face soaked in you juices you giggled moving on shaky legs towards him and pulled his boxers down his legs, he helped by kicking them off the rest of the way

You gently took his big hard member in your hand smearing his pre cum around his red tip before you started to jerk him off, Dean groaned before gently pushing you back against the bed, you looked up at him confused "tonight is all about you sweetheart" dean said leaning back in to capture your lips in a heavy kiss

Dean pulled away slightly in search of a condom he kept in his wallet which was nowhere in sight  "damn it has to be out in the living room, I'll be right back sweetheart" dean rushed out before moving away, you quickly trapped him with your legs and he turned to look at you "I'm on the pill and I'm clean..." you said suggestively

Dean smirked pouncing on you, both hands grasping your shaky thighs, you moved to wrap them tightly around his bare hips and pulled him closer as you felt his hard cock press against your core, you moaned against his lips as pleasure shot through your body 

Dean heaps his hard shaft and moved his tip to press against your entrance, "please dean" you whimpered out,  dean chuckled as he gently pushed inside your dripping hole stretching your walls, you let out a shaky breath as you adjusted to his size "you okay sweetheart" dean asked as pushed all the way inside you "yeah I'm good, you can move now" you said pulling him into another kiss

Dean complied as pulled his hips all the way back before slamming back inside of you, "oh my-" you  chocked out against his lips, Dean continued to slam his hips against yours at a hard slow pace making you want to scream "faster baby please" you begged fighting your legs around him

Dean complied as he began thrusting inside of you faster, the only sound left in the room were the moans and skin slapping skin

Deans cock was repeatedly hitting your G-spot, pushing you closer and closer to your fourth orgasm of the night "you're so fucking tight baby, I'm not gonna last much longer" dean said in between thrusts "me either" you moaned out and dean moved his hand down to rub your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head "oh my fucking god dean please don't stop!" You squealed as your scratched your nails down his back leaving deep red lines in their wake 

"I'm gonna cum again" you moaned out breathless and dean sped his hips up even more "me too baby!" Dean said and it wasn't long until your felt the knot in your stomach snap and you came all over deans cock with a scream of his name, triggering his own orgasm as his white hot seed coated your walls.

Once both of you had calmed from your highs dean gently pulled out of you making you let out a small hiss at the empty feeling , he layback down beside you both you chests rising and falling with deep exhausted breaths “that was fucking awesome baby” dean said turning to you with a smile on his face sending you into giggles “yeah it was” you leaned into give him a small peck on his kiss swollen lips before pulling away to lay your head on his chest, 

Dean wrapped his arm around your back and pulling you to rest against him “get some sleep sweetheart hopefully Sam and Bobby take there time getting to us so we can have round two in the morning” dean said  sleepily and you smiled against his chest as you already felt the heaviness of sleep pull you away along with the comforting sound of deans heart beat reminding you that he was right there with you , safe and sound. 

————————————————————————

ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

Hey! Long time no see, I did have a few Christmas/ new year imagines in mind when starting this account however I was just going through a really rough period of time, my dog of 14 years passed away at the beginning of January and was sick throughout Christmas so I just wanted to spend whatever time I had left with him and writing just had to be put on hold, I will be much more consistent throughout ❤️

[the-avengers-not-the-nazis]

Bad moon rising III

Summary: After a nasty divorce, you and your family are forced to live with your Grandpa in the lovely notorious Santa Carla, California. Filled with punks, geeks, surfer nazis and apparently all kinds of creatures of the night.

Word count: 3.7k

Poly!Lost boys x Emerson!reader

[1] [2] [3] [4]

A/n: This chapter will have a brief mention of SA, so this is your warning! But, don’t worry because we kick ass, literally. I also love this chapter, because it does go a bit more into the boys protectiveness and yours and theirs feelings for one another. So please in joy:)

You awoke groggily the next morning. 

Staying up late the night before at the boardwalk did not mix in well with your normal sleeping routine. Sun filtered through the blinds, the light casting a glow throughout your bedroom. You lightly stirred awake, tugging on the itchy sheets to keep last of your sleep from wandering away. 

“Y/n?” A voice called out from behind the closed door. “Sam and I’ve made breakfast, if your hungry.”

A muffled ‘ok’ surpassed your lips, the sound of your mother’s footsteps fading from your door. You reluctantly got out of bed, your pajama shirt that you may or may not have taken from Micheal’s closet rested loosely around your hips, the waist of your shirts twisted around your body from last nights sleep. 

Glancing around your room, you took in the multitude of box’s that littered the ground. Each having different labels from t-shirt and underwear all the way to cd’s and band posters. You knew that you’d have to empty the boxes at one point, and not fish through everything just to find a clean pair of socks.

You slowly walked out of your room, careful not to roll an ankle stepping over a box of shoes. The floor was cold against your bare feet, causing a soft chill to run through your body as you made your way down the stairs. 

Soft clinking of silverware and scraping plates met your ears as you rounded the stairs railing. Sam, Micheal and mom came into view, each of them sitting around the dining table, their breakfast either already eaten or halfway gone. 

Your gave them each a morning greeting, mom receiving a politer one than either of your brothers. Upon entering the kitchen, you made a quick plate, filled with plenty of eggs and bacon to keep your hunger subsided for a couple of hours. 

You returned back to the dining room, sitting next to Micheal. Mom and Sam sat on the opposite side, a single plate pulled with just bacon and a glass of orange juice sat at the head of the table. Definitely Grandpas. 

Though, where the old man currently was, is beyond you. 

As you start to eat your breakfast with your family, the gentle noise from outside passing as conversation for now. Mom let out an appealed hum, mouth stuffed with her own cooking, hand coming up to cover her mouth as she began to speak. 

“I forgot to tell you guys,” Voice slightly muffled by her hand. “I already found a job for myself.”

You slowed your eating, glancing between your brothers and mother. “Already?” You asked, lightly stabbing the yellow bit of egg. “We’ve been here less than a day, how have you got a job?”

Mom lowered her hand, smile still evident on her face. “Yes, well, last night at the boardwalk, I met a fine man who offered me a job at his store.”

“Fine man?” Micheal echoed, leaning back in his chair. “We don’t have to expect him around the house, will we?”

“No, no.” She waved off. “He is just a sweet man, who happened to notice someone in need of work.”

You shared a quick glance at Micheal, not entirely certain if the guy was just looking out for a stranger or more. Sam, on the other hand, was estatic for mom. Talking with a mouthful of his breakfast. “That’s great, mom. And, just think, when you get your first check, we can buy a TV.”

Micheal rolled his eyes at his brothers sudden accusation, you held back a smile. Remembering the conversation from yesterday about having no MTV to watch here at grandpas. 

“We can’t spend our money on entertainment, Sam. We have help pay for food and bills, we can’t just live off of grandpa forever.” She told him, taking a quick sip of her orange juice. “Besides, a video store will not pay that much on the first check.”

“Your working at a video store?” You asked, even though she had just told you the answer to your question. 

She gave a soft nod, standing up from the table with her plate and drink in hand. “Yes, unfortunately. It was the only thing that I could find in such short notice.” She then walked out of the dining room, leaving you with your brothers. 

Sam looked between you and Micheal, a sad look on his face. “My god,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair with defeat. “We’re going to be living in the streets by the end of the summer.”

You kicked him beneath the table, earning a pained noise to pass his lips. 

After breakfast, you returned back upstairs, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. Kicking an empty box out of your way as you sat down on your bed. Out of the corner of your eye, the sun bounced off of a square object, the light shining in your face. 

Turning in the direction, you eyed the cd from last night. The same one that the bleach blonde slipped into your back pocket. Reaching over, you picked up the object, twisting it around in your hand as you read the song listings for the cd. 

You pondered with the disk in hand, gently tapping it against your palm as you eyed your cd player. A pair of headphones hung on top of the device, eagerly waiting to be played. 

A tired sigh passing your lips as you opened the plastic case. You weren’t one to judge people’s music, often giving each genre a try before making a conclusion on it. But, stolen music was something that’d you’d happily judge. 

Placing the disk into the appropriate slot, you pressed play on the cd player. The music played through the headphones, the padded material fitting snug against your ears. You laid out on your bed, letting the music calm you, despite the punk metal flowing through your head.

You hadn’t seen the four boys over the past week at the boardwalk. Well, you did see them, anyone could see them. But, they were always driving away on their bikes or terrifying some tourists that got to close to them. 

You also didn’t know what to say to them, it wasn’t like you were friends with any of them. So, you just stuck to the side when they would get too close or change directions entirely, not wanting to be noticed by the leatherback motorcyclists.

But, you were noticed.

They knew when you were near, and they knew when you would hide away in a random shop when they’d passed by. To them it was hilarious, this girl that they’d barley known was doing everything in her power to keep herself hidden from them.

It wasn’t like it was something new to them, plenty of people dodged their presence when around them. Often, giving them a clear path to walk along the boardwalk. 

Though, whenever they would catch the sweet odor of your perfume, or the soft beating of your heart. Their feet would follow after you, trailing a good distance behind to not alarm you of their presence. 

And it was like they couldn’t stop when they would catch your smell in a crowd. 

It was something deep down that made them follow after you, something deep within their cold body’s that tethered them with you. They all felt it, that odd pull when one of them would spot you. But, none of them would speak out loud about it, not knowing how to ask what it was or why it was you. 

They just knew that the pull they’d fell would softly strengthen itself they closer they were to you. And a small part of them was curious of what it could mean. 

You watched as the sun lowered itself behind the crashing waves of the ocean, soft pinks and purples mixing in with the night sky before it turns black. It was always mesmerizing how the sun would move so quickly, yet slowly throughout the day. Beginning and ending just as it had started, beautifuly.

The railing from the boardwalk dug into your forearms as you leaned against it, a peaceful feeling scorching through your body at the sight before you. You knew you’d have to leave soon, you promised mom that you’d be back before dinner. 

Pulling yourself from the deck, you made your way over to the stairs leading down to the beach. Straps of your bag digging into your shoulders, as the weight of your items shifted. The only reason that you had brought the thing was because you’d wished to open your wallet a bit more tonight. 

A couple of happy’s for your family and yourself. As well as your house keys, wallet and Walkman. (For when you get bored.)

The sand inched itself into the crevices of your soles, no doubt something that mom would get on to you about if you track any kind of grime into the house. 

You could have just walked along the boardwalk, but you were growing a bit tired of the over packed people crowding around you. Too many sweaty bodies, and far too many noises. So, a nice walk along the beach would be the perfect way to end the night. 

A small fire came into view, the light casting a soft glow around a group of kids that surrounded it. You didn’t recognize them. Not that you’d recognize a whole lot of people with only being in town for a total of two weeks, but still. Loud music came from the group, shouts and laughter erupting the quiet atmosphere of the beach. 

You kept your focus away from the group, not wanting to disturb their own fun. Keeping a far away distance to not draw any attention towards yourself. Though that seems to be the opposite of tonight’s plans. 

A sharp whistle came from the group, dragging you out of your peace. 

You glanced over at the bonfire, stopping momentarily in the sand. They were a lot closer to you than the fire itself, maybe a few feet away than the couple of yards they were previously at. 

“Where you running off to on such a nice night, babe?” One of them asked, his voice slur like. The nickname didn’t roll off his tongue like Paul’s did the other night, no, instead it came off forced and disoriented. Almost like the name was just a way to try and sweet talk you. 

“Home.” You told him bluntly, taking slow but deliberant steps away from them. 

An airy chuckle came from a different guy, “What a coincidence, so are we.”

“Please don’t follow me.” You said over your shoulder, picking up your pace when you realized that they were starting to follow you. 

“Why not, you look like you could use the company.”

You didn’t give a response, instead kept your head forward, ignoring the calls that they continued to ring out. “C’mon, beautiful, this a way to treat a gentleman?”

An hand gripped your arm, yanking you back into the imbrace of a body. Two strong arms wrapped around your waist keeping you tightly in his hold. “I was fuckin’ talking to ya.” He told you, the smell of his intoxicated breath making you gag. 

He pulled you closer to the fire, dragging your body as you kicked and refused to allow him to take you to their spot. The other guys had brutish smiles on their faces, finding the situation as a pleasant form of entertainment for them.

One of the men snatched your bag off your shoulders, tossing it near the bonfire as a couple dug through your possessions. “Let me fucking go!” You shouted, arms and legs kicking out at anyone who got close. Your sudden movements caused the guys grip on you to slip, your feet finally planting firmly on the ground.

You twisted out of the guys hold, his arms still wrapped tightly around your waist. And, out of a flurry of emotions, you raised your dominant arm, reeling it back before your fist connected with his nose. Hard. 

A sharp crunch came from the man’s nose, and something warm and wet coated your knuckles as you pulled your fist back. The man let out a pained groan, his hands cupping his nose as blood dripped from between his fingers. 

“God! Fuckin’! Dammit!” He shouted, words coming out choppy and rushed as he struggled to breath properly through his nostrils. “Look what you fucking did, you bitch!”

You bit your toungue, fighting off a smug smile. Now is really not the time to play around with these guys, but, you knew it felt good to punch him. The tiny bag of dicks deserved it. “I can see.” You told him taking a small step back from the supposed leader of the group. “And it looks like a shitty nose job, if you ask me.”

“You broke my fucking nose!” He was beyond pissed, anyone with an eye could see that. He pointed a finger at you, blood dripping from the tip. “I’ll fucking kill you.”

God, this guy has a nasty mouth on him. He gets punched one time and it’s all fucking this and fucking that. His mama needs to teach himself some manners. 

You opened you mouth to tell him, ready to snatch your bag back and take off towards grandpas, when a reflective object caught your eye. Glancing over at the man’s hand you saw a knife clutched tightly in his right hand, his fist slightly shaking for how hard his grip was. 

Holy shit. 

He really is gonna kill you. 

Turning swiftly on your foot, you tried to manuver out of the outstretched hands grabbing at you. Sprinting on the sand, you felt as the tiny rocks slowed you down. Everytime you pushed off, your foot slowly sank down into the beach’s bay. 

Holy shit. 

A hand gripped your hair, tight. Your scalp burning as you get yanked back and thrown down on the ground. A yelp slipped past your lips when your upper body hits the floor, the air vacating your lungs. 

You tried to lift your body up, tried to run, tried to scream for help. But, there were suddenly hands everywhere, holding you down on your back, arms and legs pinned down as the man you’d punched leaned over you. 

“You know,” he started, twisting his knife in his palm. “It’d be a real shame for me to fuck up your face, because, well, you sure do got a pretty one.” He trailed his hand over your face, blood trailing behind as he did so. 

“Burn in fucking hell!” You shouted, putting as much strength as you could muster to try  and shove off the ones holding you down. 

A nasty sneer rested on his lips, “But such a shitty attitude, maybe I’ll cut off your tongue, you know, keep you quiet for once.”

The guy pinning down your left arm looked up at the man, slight concern bubbling across his features. “Hughie, yer not actually gonna cut ‘er, right-“

“Shut the hell up!” Hughie shouted at the man, knife pointed dangerously close to his face. “Just shut up.”

He turned back towards you, the knife dropping down to his side as glared down at you. “I ain’t gonna cut the bitch.”

You felt air enter your body, feeling slightly better about the situation now knowing he isn’t actually gonna use the knife. But, you still didn’t know what he was gonna do with you. 

“No, well just take her shitty bag, and I want just a little pay back for the nose.” Hughie brought his index and thumb close together. 

You watched with wide eyes as he walked around you, stopping at the top of your head, kicking just a little bit of sand in your face as he did so. “Fucking slut.” He muttered, before he raised his leg and the heel of his boot came down hard on your face. 

David sat on top of his motorcycle, the kickstand holding him steady as he puffed on his cigarette. The sun had set about an hour ago, the night fresh and just starting. They had plenty of time to scope out the crowd and find their next meal. 

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Paul and Marko sweet talking a group of ladies. They’d be nice for a snack, David thought. The sent of their blood flooding his senses, but, they’d need just a little more to actually fill them up. 

Dwayne leaned against the wooden railing, keeping a steady eye on those who wander too close to him and his brothers. Anyone that catches his eye would immediately steer themselves in a different direction. 

The smell of your blood drifted around the group, drawing Paul and Marko away from the group of girls and back over to their brothers. Your blood was a lot stronger than usual tonight, they noticed. It was more out in the open than what they’d usually smell around you. 

Paul was the first to notice you, a smile spreading across his face. “Hey, babe.” He drawled, watching as you came into view of the group. “Where you been lately?”

Though you didn’t stop to acknowledge them, in fact you seemed to walk faster to try and past them. It was slightly uncharacteristic of you, no snarky comment or a roll of your eyes. To say they missed it was an understatement. 

One by one, they each stepped away from their bikes, sauntering over to your fleeting form. The smell of your blood grew stronger and stronger the closer they got to you, the reminder that they need to eat picking at the back of their minds. 

Marko reached you first, gently pulling at your arm to catch your attention. “Hey, beautiful, where you been all week?” Though, you shrugged off his hand, barley giving him a glance as you tried to push through the crowd. 

He furrowed his brows, slightly confused at your demeanor. The first time you’ve met you’d snapped at him for trying to take a silly vinyl, and now you wouldn’t even spare him a second of your attention. 

Even when they’d see you out on the boardwalk, you’d always glance up at them, meeting at least one of their eyes before scurrying in a different direction. 

He quickly glanced at the others, silently asking them what to do. 

David brushed by his brother, understanding him without either having to open their mouths. He took long purposeful strides, the sounds of the others following right behind floated up to his ears. In no time, David was at your side. Gloved fingers wrapping around your forearm, as he spun you around to face them. 

A witty comment danced on the edge of his tongue, the sudden impulse to hear a snarky remark fall from your lips egged him on. Though, what he sa made his thoughts stand still. 

Bruises were found all around your face. A few rested along your jawline and cheekbones, but, the biggest of them all was the one on your right eye. The skin slightly puffed around the eyeball, making it hard to see clearly from that side. 

A dark red was slowly but steadily seeping from your bottom lip, the sticky liquid had had found its way to the collar of your shirt. The fabric had caused the blood to spread across the top. 

That explains the smell of blood. 

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. Your breaths became labored, short intakes and outtakes, eyes darting past the four men to your surroundings. 

David placed both hands on your face, the feeling of his gloved fingers against your skin oddly calmed you. You placed your own hands against his wrist gently trying to tug them away, though, his grip didn’t seem to loosen. 

“Let me go.” You said in a hoarse voice, the sound of it made an odd feeling stir in the pit of the boys stomachs. 

You hadn’t even realized that the rest of the boys had surrounded the two of you. Each eyeing the small marks that littered across your face with hidden emotion. 

Paul had reached forward grasping your hand in his, eyes trailing across the hills of your knuckles. A faint coat of blood was slowly drying itself up, blood that wasn’t your own. The blonde gently showed your hand to the others, discreetly eyeing each of them, a silent conversation threading itself through the air. 

A weak sniffle sounded from you, mindlessly dragging their thoughts back to the fact that you were here right infront of them. “Can I please just go home?” You asked, voice wavering with emotion. 

One by one they each gave a chorus of, ‘of course’ or just a simple nod. Paul released your hand, not before wiping a small trail of blood onto the pad of his finger. Keeping the scent with them as you left. 

David pulled his hands away from your face, the cold touch lingering on your warm skin. They watched as you pushed through the crowd, hand gently pressing against someone’s lower back as you pass by them. An eerie tick crawled its way to the back of David’s mind, something unsettling and terrifying. 

And it didn’t seem to mix well with the need to feed. 

David glanced over at Dwayne, giving him a quick nod. The brunette mirrored his brother, neither having to open they’re mouth before he distantly trailed after you. Getting lost in the crowd just as you had. 

Now just the three blondes were left in the boardwalk. Paul was softly bouncing on his feet unpatiently awaiting for David’s orders. Marko stood beside his brothers, fingers twitching at the sudden need to sink his fists and fangs into someone. 

The faint smell of the assholes blood filtered through their noses, a soft trail leading through the crowds. Without glancing back at the terror twins, David signaled towards the bikes. The three of them straddles their own Motorcycles, Dwayne’s would just have to stay at the boardwalk until they get back. 

They revved their engines, the loud noise drawing attention of nearby locals. Though, tonight, the people’s attention was the last thing that they were trying to capture. 

“Boys,” David spoke over the rumble of the bikes. “Let’s eat.”

A/a/n: Ok, so, if anyone of confused by the ending, the boys went out to basically kill the surfer nazis. And, Dwayne went to make sure you got home safe before joining his brothers. Also, I felt like the ending was a bit rushed, because I haven’t posted in like a week or something. But, let me tell you that this chapter has been 90% done the whole time. I was just lazy to finish the other 10%. But, let me know what you guys think ;)

@mrstargayen09

[thesecretwriter]

how each moon boy would react to an argument with you – part 2. 

summary: what the title says!

warning: fluff – like I said in part 1!

word count:

a/n: okayyyy, i saw the impact of part 1, i’m sorry for the angst! so here is some fluff to make it all better

minors/ageless blogs dni.

Masterlists

part 1

Steven Grant:

It was a sleepless night for him without you.

He laid in bed and stared at the ceiling aimlessly as he though back to the argument.

You were right, he shouldn’t be going to his ex-wife about issues in a private relationship.

He looked over to his nightstand and saw that his alarm clock read 2:35am.

He groaned in frustration and got out of bed to get dressed.

He had to make things right, tonight.

The corner store on your street was thankfully opened and he went into the store with the determination to get your favourite snacks.

The store had flowers, which he of course bought and in the corner of his eye he saw something shiny and knew he had to get it too.

You awoke from your sleep groggily when you heard constant knocking at your front door.

Upon opening it, you saw Steven standing there with his hands full and his hands full.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask feeling the emotions from hours ago resurfacing.

“Uh… well I came to apologize,” he said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

With a roll of your eyes, you stepped aside to let him in.

He walked in with a small smile, behind him were helium balloons which said, ‘happy birthday’ and ‘congratulations’.

You couldn’t help the small smile that made its way to your lips, but you maintained a neutral expression and locked the front door to join him in your living room.

His posture was tense as you watched him leave the contents in his hands on the nearby table. He still held the flowers in his hands as he walked to you.

“I’m sorry for everything I said and previously did. You’re absolutely right in being upset,” he said and looked at you with sincere eyes.

You knew he meant the apology, but his words and actions still tugged at your heart.

“Steven… “ you said tiredly, “I don’t know if I can-“

“No, please don’t say that,” he knew the words that were waiting to be said.

He couldn’t bare to hear them.

“I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have an I know asking you to stay with me is a lot. I just… for the first time in my life I have something I’m genuinely happy with,” he said with that all too familiar smile.

You understood his reasoning, but you needed him to understand yours as well.

“Communication in this relationship isn’t the strongest, and we need to work on that,” you said to him.

He heaved a sigh of relief.

“Tell me what I can do, and I’ll do it,”

“Layla… “ you said her name softly.

“She’s gone, I-I realised that it was extremely wrong of me to talk about you to her. I feel as though I had an obligation to compensate for the sadness I brought her previously, but i cant do it at the expense of you. it also not my place to do so,” he said truthfully.

You listened to him intently.

“Doing all of that made me blind to the fact that I was hurting you. I’m sorry, darling, so so sorry,” he made his way to you and grasped your hand with his free one whilst the other held the flowers.

“I can’t say that it’s okay, but I hope you don’t repeat this,” you said looking at him with unshed tears.

“Of course, I would never hurt you like this again,” he said honestly.

“You better not,” you say sternly but with a hint of humour.

With that being said, Steven held you close to him and didn’t want to ever let go.

Marc Spector:

He waited a few days, watching you from afar to make sure you were okay.

You were functioning well and doing things you’d usually do, but Marc could see through the front you were putting for everyone to see.

Pushing you away seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but having you away was like living without the sun in his dark world.

He needed you.

Which is why he found himself sitting in your apartment and waiting for you to come home. He’d entered your apartment by using his spare key.

It had since been 2 hours since you were supposed to be home.

Marc knew your schedule by heart.

He was about to go out and look for you when he heard the keys being put into your front door along with your muffled voice.

“Thanks for the chat, I really needed it,” you bid goodbye to whoever was outside and locked the door behind you.

Your apartment was still dark as you move around to leave your daily belongings in their respective places.

Upon turning the lights on, you saw Marc’s figure out of the corner in your eyes sitting on the couch.

You turned to him with a frown.

“If you’re here for your things, they’re in that box on the kitchen counter,” you said in a monotone, wanting to speech through the process of this one last meeting.

Marc wordlessly awoke from where he was and walked to you, the entire time he maintained eye contact with you.

He stopped walking till he was right in front of you, a hairs width away.

“What makes you think I came here for my things?” he asked in a hushed tone.

“What else would you be here for?” you said to him challengingly.

He smirked and looked to the side before looking back at you.

“You think I’d let you go that easily?” he said with a raised brow.

“You did that night,” you scoffed and folded your hands, causing him to step back.

He nodded with a clenched jaw.

“You know I didn’t mean anything I said,” he stated with sincerity.

“Sure you didn’t,” you breathed a sigh and walked away from him to the box on the counter.

He followed behind and trapped you between him and the counter before you could reach for the box and hand it to him.

“You wasted no time in gathering my things,” he said with a humourless chuckle.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t want you to deal with me any longer,” you used his words from that night.

“Y/n… “ he said trying to make you understand.

“No Marc, I can’t keep playing this game of push and pull,” you admitted, sounding tired.

“I’m not playing games,” he said offended.

You turn to face him, his body still trapping you between him and the counter.

You raised a brow at him.

“Okay. I admit, I’ve made mistakes and I’m sorry for that. Very sorry. But you’re the one thing that grounds me. I know what I said that night was out of line,” he finally apologizes.

You look at his expression intently. You can tell that he means his words.

“I need more than an apology from you,” you stated.

“Name what you want and I’ll do it,”

“I want you to be careful and take care of yourself. I know in that mind of yours you don’t care about your wellbeing, but if you care for me then you’ll take care of yourself,” you move your gaze to your hands as you talk to him.

“Of course I care about you, and if that is what you want, consider it done,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead and brought you in for a hug.

Jake Lockley:

“Mi corazón…”

“Go away Jake,” you said as you exited the grocery store.

He had been trying to make you speak with him for the passed week and all you’ve been doing is ignoring him.

Serves him right for what he did.

What you didn’t understand was why he was trying to talk to you.

“Just one moment, please,” he said sounding exhausted.

“Go bother one of your many girlfriends,” you said bitterly.

“You’re the only one,” he grabbed your shoulders and turned you towards you and hindered you from walking away.

“Jake,” you say in a warning tone.

He looks up and down the street before pulling you down an alley way. You try to protest, but he puts a hand over your mouth.

“You will listen to me,” he snapped.

You nodded tiredly and his hold on you loosened but it remained there.

“I was on Khonshu’s orders to get important information the night you came into the bar,” he said with annoyance.

Even though Jake had been the most easy to work with when it came to Khonshu, he maintained hostility when it came to you and Khonshu.

He knew you wouldn’t like Khonshu’s request, but he had to comply since it was part of the deal.

“That woman who was with me is the daughter to a man who is an avatar,” he explained further, hoping you would understand.

You studied his stoic expression. He was being truthful.

“Why didn’t you tell me before doing it?” you asked feeling hurt that he didn’t seem to trust you.

“It was too dangerous to tell you and I needed you to be safe, mi luz,”

“Well, look at the outcome of you not telling me,” you said with sadness.

Jake looked at you with equal sad eyes. The week spent without you was torture, he had an argument with Khonshu and wanted nothing more than to seek comfort from you.

“I know, mi corazón. I’m so sorry,” he said and pulled hugged you tightly.

It was rare to see Jake be so affectionate, but you know your time apart had affected him. It did the same to you.

You melted into the hug and wrapped your arms around him.

tagging those that commented on part 1:

@milkypompon @hellomynameisells @brighterthanlonelywords @the-witheredroses @secretdazeobservation @stressed-cherry

[lestatdelivncvurt]

𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Reader

The death of Daemon Targaryen never had hurt you more than it should.

Inspired by Ophelia from Hamlet. The end quote is from Song of Achilles.

fanfiction | House of the Dragon

"Daemon, where are you going?" You inquire as you watches him readying to soar on dragonback with Dark Sister. Your gaze lifted to meet his, worry etched upon your visage as you observed your beloved. The war still raged, his life at stake.

Daemon turned to face you, unable to utter the truth, he imparted to you a falsehood. "Fret not for me, my love," he reassured, yet noting that your furrowed brow betrayed your unease.

He descended from his dragon, alighting before you on the earth. He clasped your hands firmly in his, bestowing a tender kiss upon them.

Your eyes locked with his. "Where are you going?" You softly inquire once more, voice quivering akin to your heart that throbbed and ached with dread. "You cannot go." It was your intuition that whispered so.

Nevertheless, Daemon sought to reassure you. "I shall return." The prince enfolded you in a kiss, pressing his lips fervently against yours, yearning to cherish the moment with you one last time.

As the kiss parted, he stroked your cheeks, brushing away the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. "Keep this ring," he murmured, placing the silver ring in your palm.

A look of confusion crossed your visage as you gazed at him.

"Know that you are half of my soul," he whispered to you, and you were a fool to let him depart from your side.

You observed as he ascended Caraxes. The sense of foreboding only intensified as he and Caraxes soared into the heavens, perhaps never to return to you.

When he leapt towards Aemond with Dark Sister, you pondered what thoughts consumed him, his allegiance to Rhaenyra or his love for you?

As his blade pierced through the boy like butter, its edge piercing his remaining eye, was he reminiscing about you?

Did remorse grip him for leaving you bereft and alone?

Every morning you awoke to an empty bed, solitude enveloping you. The news of his demise shook you to the core, unable to contain your tumult of emotions, you wept bitterly.

Days passed, the war for the throne persisted. And you battled against the war of grief and madness threatening to engulf you completely. His remnants provided solace, soothing your tears and calming the sobs that escaped.

Rhaenyra and the others watches as you gradually descended into madness.

You sank to the ground, faltering with each step, observing as the water tenderly kissed the earth, forming a gentle ripple. The God's Eye was where your beloved had met his end with the young prince Aemond.

You prayed for Aemond, envisioning the suffering he must have endured.

Tears streamed down your face as you knelt by the water's edge, feeling the anguish in your heart. How could he forsake you so? He vowed to stay by your side, to live, to love you eternally.

You clutched the ring he had bestowed upon you not long ago.

"I shall return," he pledged as he placed the ring in your hand. The silver caressed your skin. Then he bestowed upon you a kiss, one of fervor and hunger. You could faintly feel his lips against yours, so sweet and intoxicating. He departed with his sword and his dragon as you watched from below, witnessing him slowly recede from your life.

Now you wished you had halted him.

Regardless of the throne's fate, regardless of victory or defeat, you stood resolute. The water beckoned to you, like a siren luring sailors. You dipped your feet into the water, smiling as though sensing his touch against your skin.

Similar to Queen Helaena and Daemon, you submerged into the water. Even as it embraced you tighter and deeper, pulling you further down, you only closed your eyes, gazing at the darkening and blurring sky. You tightened your grip on the ring in your hand. Not it, you could not lose it, not even in death.

Death welcomed you like an old friend, with open arms. You accepted your destiny.

In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.

[imthebadguyyy]

Something Just Like This

pairing - charles leclerc x reader

fandom - f1

synopsis - a reflection on your relationship.

part - i (part ii)

warnings - talk about death, leukemia, badly translated french and the events may not be in order.

a/n - felt guilty for being away for so long so here's a wee little bit of a fic to make up for it!! all my love, always ♥️

when you were five,your dad had taken you to a go kart track in monaco, to watch a race with his childhood best friend, herve. having previously lived elsewhere, your trip to monaco with your parents was tremendously exciting, and you had nearly tripped over in your excitement at visiting a new country, and possibly making new friends. your dad had told you, "my friend has 3 sons himself, I'm sure you'll all get along very well"

so, you went, clutching your raggedy anne doll in one hand, and your model ferrari in the other, excitedly chattering away to your mummy and papa, eventually falling asleep on their shoulders.

when you awoke, you found yourself on a strange bed, with neither your doll nor your car beside you, and your parents seemed to have vanished too. the easy tears that had always been ready to spring to your eyes did their job, and your bottom lip began to wobble.

just before you could burst into tears, a pretty lady with kind eyes looked in at the door, and upon seeing your trembling lip, walked in with a soft coo.

"ma cherie, don't cry. are you looking for your maman and papa?" she asked, sitting down beside you.

"yes I am, do you know where they are?" you asked, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand as you spoke. "yes cherie, they're here, in the living room. im pascale, your parents friend! my husband, herve, is your dad's friend. come, let me introduce you"

and so you followed her to the living room, clutching into her finger for dear life, and the moment you spotted your parents, you ran to your mama, clambering into her lap and hiding your face in her hair.

"hello! are you y/n?" a little boy asked, with messy dark hair a sweet smile. you nodded, looking at him curiously. "I'm Lorenzo, but you can call me enzo!" he said with a smile. "hello" you mumbles softly, taking in your surroundings.

you took in the pretty apartment, with the bright sunlight and the pretty paintings, before something on the floor caught your eye.

there was another boy on the carpet, with brown hair and green eyes, who had in his clutch your missing ferrari toy.

"hey thats my car!" you exclaimed, sliding off your mother's lap to sit on the floor"

"that can't be your car, girls don't play with cars!" the boy exclaimed, holding it close.

"now charles, of course they can! and that is y/n's car so why don't you ask her if you can play with it together?" pascale interrupted, sensing a fight about to break out

"ok, im sorry y/n, can we share this car please? i love ferrari!" he exclaimed, flashing you a bright smile, and it was at that moment that your little five year old heart fell hard for the boy.

the two of you spent the afternoon together, playing with your ferrari and all his other cars, and laughing and giggling with lorenzo, and also playing with baby arthur.

your parents watched with smiles, realizing their children were forming life long bonds.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

no one could have foreseen how you would be joined at the hip forever after that. your parents moved to monaco for a job your dad got, and you started living just down the block from the leclerc's. that meant Saturday night dinners at either of your houses, and lazy Sundays spent at the beach or at go kart races.

you even went to the same school as the boys, with either of your parents picking you up and dropping you off.

as the years passed, you and charles got closer and closer, and it was a rare occasion where you weren't stuck at the hip.

you found in him the best friend you always wanted, funny, kind and caring, and always ready to have your back, something he proved on the very first day of school, when he punched a kid who pulled on your pigtails.

his parents weren't happy but when a tearful charles explained that "i couldn't let him hurt y/n/n!! i love her!!" pascale softened and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"you love her, do you?" she asked with a chuckle, when the boy nodded furiously. "she's my best friend, nobody should make her upset" he said determinedly, making his dad chuckle too.

"ok, mon fils, tu n'as pas de problèmes"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･

on your sixteenth birthday, the leclercs joined your family for a special dinner on the beach. your dad rented a yacht and you guys had spent the day sailing on it, and trying to catch fish and swimming in the blue water. you had all laughed and screamed and lorenzo had taught you how to do a proper cannonball into the water. your mother's had scolded him for teaching you such unladylike things, and he in turn said "but she's y/n! no one's expecting her to be ladylike!" at which point you had dunked him in the water.

you tuckered each other out by swimming around, and participating in a chicken fight with the leclercs. it was you in charles' shoulder, and arthur on lorenzo's. of course, you won.

it reminded you of when you were children, always together, always messing around in some way or the other. but with Charles spending more and more time racing, you got to see the leclercs much lesser than you'd have liked to.

so communication with Charles became through letters, written to him when he went out of the country to race, with his dad and brother. pascale was a regular visitor but meeting charles had become something to be cherished, what with you busy trying to get auditions to be a singer.

in the years that had passed, you and charles had become extremely close, meeting each other whenever possible and becoming each others support system whenever the other needed it. so of course it was fitting that he was your designated best friend, your confidante, your favourite leclerc (but we won't tell arthur that)

so that night after dinner, when charles suggested you take a walk together on the beach, you thought nothing of it. not until he pulled out a small bracelet he had made, out of seashells, that you gasped, leaping into his arms for a tight hug.

"i want you to have something to remember me by when I go racing, ma jolie, i know I'm not always around, but this way you'll always have a piece of me with you, even if I'm not there" he whispered, dropping a small kiss you your forehead.

gentle kisses and hugs and touch were not unusual for you, it was your love language and it always had been, ever since you were kids.

but there had always been a lingering crush you had on him (and him on you but we'll talk about that later) and you felt your belly burn red hot when his lips dropped to your cheek.

you pulled him in close for a hug, hand running through his hair, freshly cut by his mother.

"merci, ma vie" you whispered, pressing a kiss to his wrist, and as the both of you stayed there, your head on his shoulder, his head on yours, cozy on a rug he had stolen, watching the beautiful monaco sunset, you swore you had never loved anyone as much as you had in that moment.

and charles realized it too, looking over at you, and how the sunset cast a golden hue on your mesmerizing eyes, and the way your hair shimmered softly, and your skin glowed bright, and he swore he had never seen a sight prettier, and his little teenage heart fell a little harder for the five year old who worse pigtails and loved ferrari as much as he did.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

however, your story wasn't always just sunshine and rainbows. when you were seventeen, your dad was diagnosed with leukemia.

the news came as a shock to you, especially when the doctor told you, he did not have strong chances of recovery even with the proper surgery and treatment. you'd never forget your mother's wail, as she sobbed over your father's fate, and how pascale and herve were there for her through it all, but for you, you couldn't breathe.

you ran to the park, crawling under the slide set, your breathing harsh and shallow. your eyes were blurring and every breath sent a sharp pain shooting down your chest. around you, the world seemed to spin and you closed your eyes, drawing your knees in, and begging your brain to stop, and pressing a hand to your chest.

before you knew it you were gasping, every gasp making you more and more dizzy, and your heart seemed to be banging against your chest to get out.

"am i dying?" you thought to yourself, labouring gasps echoing in the darkness.

"and am i hearing things?" you also asked yourself, because you could have sworn you heard charles' voice.

and lo and behold, he appeared, panting and sweaty, sinking down next to you, grabbing your sweaty hands in his own and pushing his forehead down to yours.

"cherie? ma jolie? regarde-moi s'il te plaît, regarde-moi. maman told me what happened. please cherie, breathe for me, i need you to breathe. peux-tu respirer pour moi?" he begged, rubbing your back slowly and pressing kisses to your nose.

slowly, your breathing slowed down, but as it did, tears began to stream down your face, and ugly sobs wracked your body.

Charles felt his heart break, watching the strongest girl he knew break down in his arms, tears and sweat pooling on his shirt as you sobbed.

"i know, Cherie, i know" he whispered, his own eyes glazing over. he loved your dad as much as your dad loved him, and he couldn't believe it when his mother told him the news. he pulled you in even closer, so you were straddling his lap, and kept rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings to you.

"papa, il va mourir et il va nous laisser maman et moi seules" you wailed into his shoulder and he shushed you gently.

"no no no, cherie, listen to me, please?" he asked, pulling your chin up, heart breaking when he saw your red eyes and runny nose.

you nodded slowly, still hiccupping, but letting him pull you into his chest.

"y/n, i cannot tell you what the future holds for your papa. but I can promise you that you and mama will never be alone, ever. even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there, not while maman is there, not while papa is there, and not while lorenzo and arthur are there. you are my family, y/n, and family sticks together. I'm here for you, always" he whispered.

you looked at him, your heartbroken eyes looking into his sincere green ones, seeing the same pain reflected in them. and in that moment, you knew it was right when you leaned in, and he did too.

your lips met that cold, dark, rainy evening, under the shade of the slide set in the park, but your souls had intertwined when you were five, and you could have sworn you had never felt more alive than you did at the moment.

and while your heart broke and sagged with the weight of losing your father so soon, it also ached with love at having charles with you. so when you drew back, still tasting, the salty tears you both had shed, he pulled you back in for a tighter hug.

"toujours là pour toi cherie, toujours."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you lost your dad the following year, in 2016, and charles was by your side at the funeral, watching you cry as you placed a white rose on his casket.

you had never spoken about that kiss again, and neither of you had thought it was the right time to bring it up in the months that followed.

charles watched as your mother, the woman he so admired, crumbled before him, lost without her guiding light. is that how it would ever be if you ever lost him?

the fear that coursed through his heart shocked him. he couldn't imagine what it would be like, to loose someone he loved so dearly.

his father had taken over as a surrogate father for you, and constant support for your mother. but the leclercs knew something that you didn't, their father wasn't keeping very well either, but no one had the heart to tell the l/n's, not when you were already suffering through so much.

after the funeral, there was a small tea at your own house, but you couldn't bear to be there. so at the first opportunity, you slipped away, leaving your mother in pascales care.

you ran, not caring where, until you found yourself at the beach. you sat down, pulling off your shoes and throwing your hat away, before sinking down on your knees to the sand.

you sobbed, salty tears dripping down your face, holding the locket your dad gave you in your hands, and once again, a familiar smell filled your nose as a warm body settled in next to you. charles.

"hi cherie" he whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

"hello" you whispered, mustering up a small smile.

"ma courageuse fille" he whispered softly, making you giggle and sob at the same time.

"i have to be strong for maman" you admitted. "she has no one but me in this world anymore" you whispered, eyes blurring again.

"she has us, always" charles said determinedly. "and we aren't going anywhere" he said, taking your hand in his.

and as the sun set once again, you reminicsed about a simpler, sweeter time, when you and charles where carefree and innocent, not scarred by life and it's harsh realities.

there was something special in that sunset, you noted, resting your head on charles shoulder again. perhaps your papa was trying to indicate that charles was the one for you.

but at the moment, sitting by the beach, in a moment of joined sorrow, you had never felt more human.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

with charles growing success in f2, and you finally getting a record deal, life was going well.

until you were told that herve was not doing well. denial flooded your brain. no. how was this possible? how could god take both the father's in your life to disease and illness?

you screamed and wailed and cursed, too stung, too bitter, about life.

and then the day came, in 2017. when pascale called you sobbing and lorenzo came to your door knocking wildly.

"c'est papa,il ne se réveille pas !! tante laura, qu'est-ce qu'on fait?!'

your mom was out the door in an instant and you followed, following a heartbroken lorenzo to the door of the house you knew so well.

you could hear pascales wails before you even reached, and the easy tears rose again but you forced them down.

you had to be strong for your second family, and with a deep breath, you pushed the door in.

what you saw broke you.

charles, sobbing on the sofa, head in his hands, while arthur sat next to his mother, in tears.

your mother dealt with all the formalities but you stuck to charles, letting him cry into your shoulder, holding him the hold day, whispering how much you loved him and how sorry you were to him, and promising him that he wasn't alone.

you comforted arthur too, holding the boy in your arms, wrapping him in the tightest hug.

you had never felt more respect for Lorenzo, ever the big brother, tears streaming down him face, even though he stayed so strong for his family.

later that evening, you held charles in their balcony, wrapped in a blanket that you had knitted for him.

"i feel so hollow, so empty" he admitted, burying his face deeper into your neck, trying his best to stay grounded by inhaling the scent of your perfume.

"i feel as if a piece of my heart has been snatched away and I'll never be okay again" he admitted, tears filling his eyes for the hundredth time that day.

"i know, charles, believe me I know" you whispered softly to him, running your hands through his hair, "but a wise boy I know once told me, that I was never ever going to be alone. he told me 'even if the day comes when we have to say goodbye to your papa, you will never, ever be alone, not while I am there' and today charles, I am saying the same to you. i know that it hurts like anything right now and that pain will never go away"

"feel that pain charles. it's what makes you human, ma vie,and i know it hurts. but I am here for you. take out all your pain and I will be there to catch you when you fall. i will be there to put you back together when you fall apart. i am here for you ma vie, always" you whispered to him, and he choked out a sob, curling himself into you, never more sure of his love for you.

"i lied and told him I got the ferrari seat" he finally choked out, and with a soft whisper of "oh charles" you pulled him in close.

there it was.

the reason why he felt like his soul was being eaten up inside.

"charles, mon coeur, i promise, you will get that ferrari seat. it will be soon, and you will have kept that promise to your papa, i have a feeling mon coeur, that your future in formula 1 will be as bright and shiny as you, and you are going to get everything you deserve, i know you will"

and he chose to take solace in your words.

just like he took solace in your soul.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

you made your formula 2 debut alongside charles at Baku that year. everyday you were left more in awe of the powerful force that he was, ready to race in less than a week, because he felt he owed it to the man who made him who he was.

so you told him you'd go with him, be his support and be there for him when he needed you to most.

and you were left spellbound yet again, at his talent, his resilience, his drive, his passion.

p fucking 1. at a race that meant the world to him.

and as he ran towards you after, body colliding with yours so hard you swear some of your bones snapped, you told him everything you had to in your embrace.

rough racing gloves on delicate skin, frenzied pulling closer and harsh breathing. thats all you remembered from the moment, looking deep into his emerald ,knowing the media was having a field day.

"I'm so so so so proud of you so fucking proud" you whispered. "and i know your dad is too" you continued, pressing a small kiss to his helmet.

when he stood on the podium, tears streamed down your cheeks. you were so so so proud of him.

and as he looked down at you, he smiled, knowing you were always going to be his brightest star.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Charles' journey is formula 1 started with Sauber but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't stay there.

when kimi announced he was leaving ferrari, you called charles and screamed into his ears "YOURE GOING TO GET THAT FUCKING SEAT MARK MY WORDS" and he had simply chuckled saying he was hoping for the best.

so when in the middle of recording a song, your phone rang with charles' name, you dropped everything you were doing and picked up the phone.

"je l'ai fait. j'ai eu le siège"

"quoi?"

"le siège ferrari. j'ai compris. c'est à moi. je vais être pilote de ferrari pour 2019"

the scream you let out was so loud your producer jumped out of his skin.

"I'm so proud of you!! J'ai toujours su que tu l'aurais, tu mérites le monde et plus encore!!" you screamed, tears streaming down your face and you heard charles laugh.

"merci, mon cherie. i will celebrate with you soon" he chuckled.

"obviously you will!! I'll be home soon, let me just finish this album first and then I am all yours" you laughed.

oh how you longed to be all his. it's all you'd ever wanted since you were a teenager.

charles' heart ached.

oh how he longed for you to be all his. it was all he'd ever wanted since he was a teenager.

later that day, you wrote the song feels like.

social media had a breakdown.

charles had a breakdown.

but that's mainly because he'd rather you wrote a love song about him.

unbeknownst to him, you had atleast a 100 lovesongs written about him.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

clicking your pen for the hundredth time, you let out a sigh.

this songwriting thing was so frustrating.

it seemed like you had a billion ideas but nothing compact came out of it.

with a deep sigh, you let your hand crash against the piano, letting the discordant notes ring in your apartment.

but the ending caught your attention.

humming, you grabbed your pen again, jotting down, scribbling down all the things you wanted to say but never would.

being a singer had always been, and just as charles was flourishing in his career, you were flourishing in yours. you had already won a grammy for your album 'nostalgia' and had won amas, Brit awards, and 2 vma awards.

'the rising star of pop' was what they affectionately called you.

you had stunned the world with your versatility and range and the depth of your songs. ballads like gravity and last kiss had shown your emotional depth. songs like when I get there and make you feel my love had showing your delicate, romantic, vulnerable side. songs like happier reflected your pain.

your song fat funny friend had shot you into the global scene when you released it as a single. millions of fans wrote to you, thanking you for being vulnerable so others could feel seen.

and of course, no one picked up on the secret ballads for charles, pinning it down to young love and romance that was usual for all people your age.

so as you finally finished the song and smiled, you knew they wouldn't guess for this one either.

but you would know.

and so you sent it to be your next single.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summer break rolled around, and you had a new mission - confessing your feelings for charles.

you were sure the timing was right.

you had to tell your best friend in the whole world that you were madly in love with him.

you told pascale, who squealed and told you "welcome to the family officially!!' earning a laugh from you.

"let me tell the boy first maman, then I'll tell you what he says"

"of course he'll say he loves you too! i know my son cherie, he's been in love with you since you were children, he's just too stupid to do anything about it" she joked affectionately and you laughed.

"j'espere que tu as raison maman. i love him very much" you admitted, blushing a little.

"of course darling. come to dinner tonight, everyone will be there, you can tell him then" she smiled, and you got up to go get dressed, pressing two kisses to her cheek.

back home, you nervously scouted your cupboard to see what you could wear. you showered and washed your hair, and put on a red dress that charles had gifted you when he got his seat.

smiling at the memory, you put on your makeup, did your hair and took a deep breath.

you were really going to do it. you were going to tell the man you had loved your whole life that you loved him.

the drive to the leclercs house was nerve wracking, and ringing the doorbell to their home was even more nerve wracking. you saw lorenzo there already, and he rose to greet you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"how are you y/n? i haven't spoken to you in a long time no?" he asked, sitting down next to you.

"I'm good enzo, very busy with recording. howve you been? I'm sorry i haven't been keeping in touch, I've just been very busy" you apologised, feeling guilty for not spending a lot of time with the oldest Leclerc.

"don't be silly, soeur, i understand you are busy. and your music, it's been a joy to listen to. you're truly a talent, ma belle" he said, and you could feel yourself getting emotional.

"aw, enzo, meri beaucoup, votre avis est très important pour moi" you said, giving him another hug.

he poured you a glass of wine, a small smile playing on his lips.

"so, is tonight finally the night?" he asked with a smirk, remembering how smitten you were for his brother.

you blushed, taking a sip of your wine to cover for it.

"yes, I'm going to tell him tonight" you admitted and he flashed you a warm smile of encouragement.

"Tell who what?" a voice interrupted, and the youngest leclerc plopped himself down next to you.

"y/n/n's going to tell charlie she loves him" lorenzo stated matter of factly, making you Tut and whack his arm.

"quoi? are we not telling arthur?" he asked, feigning hurt.

"i was going to tell him" you whined and then you turned to arthur.

"you must swear to not bring this up until it's over okay?" you told arthur, trying and failing to be stern.

arthur pretended to be hurt.

"of course I won't? what do you take me for, a gossip box?"

"yes" you and lorenzo chimed in unison.

arthur gasped dramatically, making you roll your eyes.

"do you really think that low of me?" he asked, pretending to cover his eyes in agony.

"yes, now shush, i think i heard the bell ring" Lorenzo said, getting up to open the door.

you bit your lip nervously, preparing for charles to walk in the day.

and he did. he looked gorgeous as ever, in a shirt the cover of deep red wine, hair tousled by the wind on his drive, but his eyes and smile were as bright as ever.

your heart started beating so fast you swore you almost had a heart attack.

but nothing could have prepared you for what he said next.

"everyone, i want you to meet charlotte"

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n - aaaand drum roll please 🥁 cliffhanger!!

i promise i won't leave you hanging but this was getting too long and it needed some ✨spice✨ i know this wasn't the best and the timeline wasnt cohesive but I needed to get this out of my system so pls go easy on your girl.

feedback, comments,opinions, reblogs and likes are always appreciated 🩷

hope you had a good read!! much love always xoxo

taglist -

everything - @hopefulinlove @bluesongbird @roslastyles420

f1 - @theonly1outof-a-billion

to be added to the taglist send me an ask, dm or comment 🩷

masterlist

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt. 6

TW:fucked up SA

You awoke to birdsong and turned over, hoping to find your love in bed with you once again. Your hand wandered the sheets beside you blindly and you sighed heavily, blinking your eyes open to disappointment. Alone again. You started to feel sorry for yourself but quickly remembered Sandor would return to you tonight. You smiled to yourself before breaking into a giggle and hiding your face in your hands. The joy that this big brute of a man brought you was unbelievable, especially considering how initially he struck you with such fear. You rolled around in bed all morning, considering the events of your life that had led you to this point. Though you were far from the princess your father had trained you to be, as you looked around the simple but large room, in your soft pampered sheets, knowing that your handmaiden and best friend would be coming in any minute, and you felt like royalty. Sandor would make an excellent king, and you his loyal queen.

Eventually your daydreams of Sandor in a crown and fancy clothes wore off and you sat up, impatiently waiting for Anna. Time passed. You dressed yourself simply, remembering that you were supposed to stay in your room and act depressed from now on. After dressing, you strolled over to the bell and rang it, beginning to grow concerned on why Anna hadn’t shown up yet. You waited 10 minutes. 20. You began to wring your hands together, chewing on the inside of your cheek in anxiety. Finally you decided to approach the door, and you were surprised when your heart beat rapidly against your chest at the idea of opening it. Still, you persisted, opening the door just a crack.

You looked around the hall, seeing no one, and fearfully began your trek to the servant’s quarters. You tried to think of every possibility that could explain her absence, and none of them were good. Worst of all, you considered her betrayal. Was she being rewarded right now for exposing your happiness? What if everything Sandor feared or Petyr might have implied was true; she was placed in your service to spy on you.

Finally you reached the hall that housed the royal servants and came upon a young boy carrying wrinkled linens. “Boy,” you reached a hand out to face him to you gently and he immediately bowed his head, then glancing up and raising his head in curiosity. “Is Anna in that room?”

His face twitched in confusion and his eyes scanned your face for clues.

“She has short brown hair, freckles across her nose, a little shorter than me—“

“I know Anna.” He interrupted, but did not continue fast enough for your anxieties. You huffed and suppressed an eye roll.

“And?”

“One of the guards took her just as the dawn was coming. Think his name’s Trant.” He dropped casually, turning and beginning to walk away. You cut him off, holding your hands out to stop him again.

“Where did he take her? Why?!”

“You’re Anna’s girl, are ya?” He looked you up and down. “I can tell cause you’re pretty… how old are ya, love?”

You scoffed in surprise, though his lack of alarm did soothe your fears a bit. If he wasn’t worried about her, perhaps you shouldn’t be either. The boy couldn’t be more than 12, dark hair and eyes to match, crooked grin expanding as he ogled you.

“Too old for you. Did she go willingly?”

“Put it to ya this way, milady, nothing a slave does is willing.”

“You are not a slave—“

“Oh that’s right, you lot call em servants now. That must feel nicer to your pampered ears than slave.”

He continued on with his rambling and your eye began to twitch in frustration. “Where is she, you little brat!”

“Happy to take you to her.” A new voice said from behind you. Your shoulders jumped up in fright and your head whipped around to find Meryn Trant, the man that struck you the first time he’d seen you. Your mouth opened and shut. The way he was looking at you, the knowledge that he’d taken Anna— everything in that moment made you want to run fast and far. His smirk nauseated you, and you felt as though his offer to escort you wasn’t merely a suggestion. He could take you willingly, or he could drag you by your hair. You took a deep breath and walked towards him. He followed closely behind you the entire time, directing you when you needed to turn. At last you were stopped in front of a grand door with guards on either side. You heard weeping on the other side and you felt as though you heart was about to beat right out of its cage. The guards opened the doors and Sir Meryn pushed you in with a hard shove in between your shoulders.

The first thing you saw was Joffrey laying down on his small couch, legs crossed, and a bloody dagger touching his lips, as if in thought. He turned to see you and smiled wickedly. The weeping continued from somewhere you couldn’t see. Joffrey sat up and jogged over excitedly to you. You flinched and stepped back only to bump into Trant, who roughly grabbed hold of your arms.

“Thank you for this gift.” Joffrey couldn’t hold back his smile as he grabbed your face in his hands, looked you in the eyes and patted your cheek twice. He stepped back and admired you. “Your face healed up nicely, it’s such a disappointment I didn’t break your nose… But,” he laughed lightly as your eyes watered. “you’ve blessed me with another opportunity. Bring her back in!” He called to the next room.

A large knight dragged Anna’s body back in by her leg and she screamed as her dress ran up to reveal her nakedness. As she screamed she held a blood soaked cloth to her mouth. He dropped her leg when she was in the middle of the room and went to stand behind the king. Anna crumpled her body up into a ball and she shook as her body wracked with violent sobs. You struggled to free yourself from Maryn’s grip and yelped when he kicked out the back of your knees, causing you to buckle down to the floor.

“Let her go, Sir Meryn , she needs to see her most loyal ally.” Just like that, at Joffrey’s command, you fell forward, catching yourself and instantly crawling over to Anna. You could feel the hot tears running down your face but you were silent as you tried to see her. She covered her face in her hands and flinched when you tried to remove them. When you finally did you let out an uncontrollable gasp. You stared back into her bloodshot eyes, one swollen and bruised, the snot and blood and tears mixing together in the lower half of her red face. And as she opened her mouth to cry out to you, you finally saw the severed black and red stub in her mouth where her tongue was supposed to be. “Oh Gods help her!!” You screamed, though you could not take your eyes off her. Your vision went hazy with tears and you felt like you were going to faint but you clung on to each other desperately, burying your face in her neck.

Over your combined wailing, you heard Joffrey say, “It was her suggestion, actually. Though I don’t think she ever considered I’d follow through with it, the fool.” He snickered and threw something at you. You couldn’t bear to look, shutting your eyes tightly against her skin as you prayed for this to all be some nightmare. “That is what loyalty to anyone other than your King will get you.”

The doors opened again behind you and you cried louder in fear.

“Ah, just the dog I wanted to see.”

You gasped at his words and your head shot up to look for Sandor. He was stood looking disheveled, eyes bulging at the sight of you and Anna, though he made no move towards you.

“I found your bitch for you, do not fear. She is completely safe with me.” He assured. “You’re probably wondering why I called you both here.” You could not take your eyes off of your husband, and Anna climbed into your lap on the floor and trembled against you like a freezing child. You began to pet her hair instinctively, trying not to hyperventilate. Kill him. Kill him. Kill everyone in this room.

“I heard the most awful, wonderful news this morning. Even before breakfast, I had a visitor who told me possibly the worst romance story I’ve ever heard. And it was starring the two of you. The Bitch and the hound, hearts in their eyes… She begged for your cock just last night didn’t she? Told you she loved you?”

At this, Sandor’s hand went to his sword but before he could pull it out Sir Meryn already had his own at his throat. Clegane’s eyes did not shift towards the knight or the threat at his neck. His hand remained on the hilt, and his eyes glared daggers at Joffrey. “Don’t be a fool, dog. No more foolish than you’ve been until this point… I gave you a gift, my only request was that you play rough with it…” you heard Joffrey’s footsteps approach you; every sound felt amplified and there was a constant buzzing in your ears. He grabbed you by the hair and shook your head around. “I want her broken!!” He tossed you to the floor and marched up to Sandor as he continued. “Is that too much to ask?! She must be punished, and you!!” He snarled and panted, point a finger in Sandor’s face. “You need a reminder of the cruelty you are to inflict. I’ve no use for a eunuch for a protector, Clegane!..Let’s find your balls today.” He declared, stepping away.

“Stand up, bitch!” Joffrey demanded right beside you. You shook but could make no other movements. Joffrey leaned down and shouted right in your ear, and the buzzing shifted to ringing. “I said stand up!!” Your body acted against your will and you stood up, Anna clinging onto your legs and trying to pull you back down. You knees locked and you looked down at the tiles beneath your feet. Beside your right foot you saw what was left of Anna’s tongue. Your tears were drying on your face now and you sniffled up the remainder of your snot.

“Hit her.” You heard Joffrey slump back down on the couch behind you. You couldn’t bear to look up. “Has love made you deaf as well as dumb?” Still nothing from across the room. “It’s 6 against one, dog, should you decide to remove that sword. Perhaps you could kill majority… but all the knights in the red keep? And before anyone could slit your wife’s throat? Unlikely…” Joffrey sighed. “It is regrettable your brother being on duty with my grandfather. He really is the man for this sort of job. I’ve sent word for him, regardless, as I’m sure he’ll want to have his way with her when he returns triumphant from this war.”

The sound of heavy boots stepped towards you rapidly and suddenly you were slapped hard across the cheek. You whimpered and covered the sting with your palm. Your eyes drifted up to the face of your abuser and saw the love of your life. His eyes bore down mean into yours and you swore you could feel your heart breaking. Your eyes shot down to the floor again, focusing in on Anna’s tongue. Never again would she be able to joke, or advise, or kiss properly. And never again would you be able to trust Sandor Clegane to protect you from harm.

“Women slap. I said hit her. Go on, she can take it. Apparently she can take a lot— the whore can handle you. I want to see how far you can bend her before she breaks. Consider it an order, your final orders if you refuse. I’m happy to have both your heads decorate the gates outside along with all the other traitors.”

Sandor’s boot suddenly stomped on Anna’s tongue and she cried out louder, reaching for his pants, though he kicked her hand away. He raised your chin with a rough hand and tried to make you look at him but your eyes stayed downcast. He didn’t deserve to see your eyes. Knuckles collided with your cheek bone so hard you fell back down to the ground. He spit at you and you felt it land in your tangled hair.

He sniffed and rested his hands on his belt. His voice came out dark and casual. “We done here? She’s a stupid girl with fantasies of a prince. Are you blaming me for liking my cunt wet?”

Your face felt broken, but somehow his words hurt more. You curled up into a ball and somehow in spite of all she’d been through, Anna threw herself over you in a protective huddle.

“Didn’t take much from me to have her begging. Go on and give her to Gregor, or any man here for that matter and the bitch’ll say she’s in love... But I don’t get paid to beat women for your amusement; I believe that’s Ser Meryn’s forte.”

There was a great long silence and for a moment you believed time was standing still.

“You may be right, hound… But there is one order you have not followed through on… I told you to break her in rough. I want to ensure here and now that all her fantasies of princes and sweetness are demolished.” Joffrey’s footsteps haunted your ears and you covered them. “You’re going to use this.”

Joffrey thrust forward a metal baton and Sandor looked it over, trying hard to hide his disgust and shock. “She’s taken enough of a beating, get someone else to do it.”

“You wish someone else to fuck your wife? Very well.”

You shuddered again at the thought of anyone else, or anything else, penetrating you and began to sob loudly on the floor. “Tie her to the bed.”

“No!” You screamed. This was a nightmare! This was a hell! You had to wake up! You banged your head on the floor in desperation before you felt multiple sets of hands rip you away from Anna and bring you to the bed. There were already bindings atttached to the 4 corners of the bedframe, so it didn’t take long to get you spread and locked down in spite of your struggle. “Please! Please!”

“Is this how she begs for you?” Joffrey mocked. “Who wants the first go?”

“I’ll take her on—“ A guard you did not know spoke out and reached out for the baton. You watched the hound shove the man’s helmet violently and growl, ripping the baton away from his king. The way he held it back you still had hope that he might strike Joffrey, kill every man in this room and escape with you somehow. But he didn’t. He towered over Joffrey, who showed the smallest hint of fear, and growled out “She’s mine.”

He marched over with the baton. He can’t do this to me! Even if he hates me he can’t do this to me!

“Take off her clothes.” Joffrey stalked around the bed to get a better view.

The Hound looked down at you in disgust and you whimpered and screwed your eyes shut, chest heaving with your sobs. You felt his weight shift the bed and in seconds your dress and underclothes were ripped off of you at the seams. It was useless to try to close yourself off, your ankles were tied so far apart, but your body still tried to twist and hide. You heard the hound spit and then his hand was on the scar on your inner thigh. Suddenly, cold, wet metal was at your entrance and you gasped at the contact. Anna wailed as it penetrated you and your eyes opened in shock. You watched Sandor Clegane slide the metal into you deeply and twist it around. When he pulled it out, you felt your insides would come along with it. You couldn’t help but scream and cry, and your eyes focused on Joffrey, as if he was the one doing this to you. It was too much to bare; the knowledge that your husband was raping you.

“Please stop! I beg you!” You managed out between screams, but the pain continued. “I loved you!” You whispered, voice gone sore like you’d never felt. At this, the thrusting inside you slowed for a moment and you were greatful for the relief. Then it was back faster than ever and eventually you felt completely numb. The world around you moved in slow motion and you felt your life slipping away. And then you were empty.

There were more male voices after that but you could not begin to comprehend a word anyone was saying. Eventually you were untied, though your limbs remained where they were. You feared if you moved at all, you would shatter to pieces. You were lifted up by some knight and carried a great distance, throughout the keep naked, until you reached the outside world. Your eyes burned looking at the sky but your face was frozen; you couldn’t even be sure you were still breathing. Finally you were laid down on stone and straw and the guard left you. Wheerever you were smelled of piss and shit and meat. Slowly, your eyes drifted to their right corner and your head followed suit when you saw a large dog in the corner. You slid your arm upward across the stone floor and when you could see your hand, you motioned as if you had food. Maybe this hound will finish the job. You prayed for death as the dog stood and approached. He sniffed your hand, then your face, and began to lick the saltiness the tears had left behind. Yes. Eat me. You looked into the dog’s eyes to communicate your message but he did not receive it. Instead he licked you once more and settled to lay down beside your head, curling up in a ball, his back still touching your hand.

You wept.

You slowly pulled yourself up when the tears ran dry again and winced loudly at the pain movement brought you. Your cunt felt like it was on fire, your insides scrambled. You looked between your legs and saw blood on your thighs, and on your wrists and ankles, matching creases from you pulling too hard. You were in a kennel with, as you counted, 20 dogs. This was the proper punishment for a bitch like you. You were surprised this wasn’t Joffrey’s first choice of punishment for you on that fateful day. If you would have gone straight to the kennels, you would not have a broken heart and a broken body.

Falling in love with a man, trusting him completely, and then watching him torture you because a boy your age told him to, was a punishment you could not fathom. It was your fault, all your fault. Anna was mutilated because of you. Your family would likely suffer further consequences because of you. You would either die or go savage like your barking roommates, because of you. Because you chose to love The Hound. Whatever you saw in him before was a lie, a manipulation. “Are you blaming me for liking my cunt wet?” He’d said. Everything he did was designed so he could use you. And you fell for the whole thing; thought you were saving him and you could truly live happily ever after. Joffrey was right.

You starved that day and struggled to sleep through the night. When you closed your eyes, you saw him assaulting you. You huddled in a corner, dog on your naked lap, and began to sing softly to distract yourself. A song you’d sing when you were taking care of your sister— written when you were little and full of comforts you’d always wanted.

I will take good care of you I will take good care of you Everything you feel is good If you would only let you I will wash your hair at night And dry it off with care I will see your body bare And still I will live here

So stay with me Hold my hand There's no need To be brave

And all the quiet nights you bear Seal them up with care No one needs to know they're there For I will hold them for you

Cause' all I ever wanted is here All I ever wanted All I want is Always you It's always you

And we're not out of the tunnel I bet you though there's an end

Stay with me Hold my hand There's no need To be brave

And while you sleep I'll be scared So by the time you wake I'll be brave I'll be brave I'll be brave

The hounds quieted around you during your singing, and you relaxed back against the stone as much as you could. Your eyes finally shut and all your pain disappeared.

Another hound just outside of the kennels was slumped, drunk, and listening to your song as well. He wept silently for you, for himself, for the monster he had become to you.

[sweetlyskz]

Emerald Gem||Chapter Seven

Chapter one|Chapter two|Chapter three|Chapter four|Chapter five|Chapter six|Chapter seven|Chapter eight|Chapter nine|Chapter ten

Hybrid!OT7 x Fem!Reader

Overview: Living away from society has its perks. All natural food from your thoroughly cultivated farm, no nosy neighbors, and peace and security with your animals. But sometimes you did get lonely, having no one to talk to but the cows and pigs. However, when 7 extremely wanted hybrids stumble upon your deserted farm, everything changes.

Genre: Hybrid Au, Strangers to lovers, slow burn, smut, fluff

Warnings: none that I can think of rn lol

Word count: 1.4k

unedited

You woke up in a cold sweat, body trembling. You threw the heavy comforter off of you in a haste. The boys were no longer in your bed. 

A man.

A man that you not dare speak his name was now in your bed. A man from years ago, who you thought you had forgotten. Apparently you haven’t.

“Didn’t you miss me?” He whispered. You shook your head violently. It’s all a dream, you reasoned. I just need to wake up.

“I missed you. I think about you every day. Do you ever think about me?”

“No!” You yelled, now sobbing. “You left! You’re a coward! All you do is run.”

The man grabbed you by your hair gently, making you face him. He wiped the tears off your warm cheeks. “I won’t run this time.”

“I promise.”

Two words. Two words was all it took to wake you from your dream. Or was it a nightmare? It’s up to you to decide.

***

It was a cold, rainy morning. Yoongi sat by the window in the living room, watching water droplets splash off the leaves while bundled up in a fuzzy blanket. It was a drowsy morning for the boys. They were worried about their pack leader, of course. They were curious about his wellbeing.

They feared that they were next.

You did what you could to comfort them, but you knew that without Namjoon home, the boys were never going to feel true peace. It made you sick to your stomach thinking about what the researchers may be doing to him. Taehyung couldn’t sleep without being next to Jimin. Jimin was restless when sleeping without Jungkook.

And Kook had night terrors when he wasn’t cuddling with you.

Hoseok was jumpy. A knock at the door had him running. Thunderstorms woke him from his slumber. Jin was unusually caring. In the morning he already made breakfast, working on lunch. After showers, it gave Jin a sense of protection drying his pack members hair. He even made his rounds, room to room, making sure everyone was sleeping soundly. When Jin had a chance to rest his eyes, all he could picture was the people he loved be snatched one by one.

Yoongi had a caffeine problem.

A cup in the morning, cup in the afternoon, and a piping hot cup before bed. He believed it to be a stress reliever, but he was actually bouncing off the walls, having caffeine induced anxiety attacks. You even tried hiding the coffee maker, but to no avail. He found it every time. And he would never admit that he can’t relax without having the entire pack in his sight.

“Can I come in?” A knock at your office door awoke you from your thoughts. Jin, on the other side of the door with a cup of hot cocoa and a plate of bacon and eggs, awaited your response. “I don’t wanna interrupt.”

You pushed your rolling chair to the door, creaking it open for him. “No, you’re not interrupting anything. Just doing some research...This for me?” You pointed at the plate of food in Jin’s hand. He nodded, handing you the warm plate carefully.

“And don’t worry about cleaning. Tae already put everything away. Watcha researching?” His eyes roamed your desk. A map with written directions. An article titled: Dr. Kim Petitions Court for Hybrid Rights.

And a piece of torn paper with a phone number on it and a fancy name.

“Who’s Hongjoong?” Jin asked you, a little more aggressively than he thought. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re free to talk to whoever, I just-“

“It’s okay”, you giggled, showing him that you’re in no way upset. “I was actually going to talk to you guys about something, but now that you’re here I guess I’ll tell you. Come sit”. You pat the velvet ottoman across from your desk. 

“I wanna get your thoughts before I tell the others.”

“Tell the others what, exactly?” Jin sat down with ease, a lot of curiosity.

You prepared your thoughts. How do I say that I want to take the countries most wanted hybrids to the research facility where their pack leader is being kept?

“W-what?”

Shit, I said that out loud.

 “Wait! Im so sorry! Fuck, that came out wrong. I was trying to say that I found a way for us to get Namjoon back, but it requires a lot of work”. You hoped that eased Jins worries. You hoped he would ponder of over the idea, give it some thought. You hoped he would say yes and convince the others.

You hoped.

“So, you want to travel with six hybrid criminals, in hopes of breaking out another hybrid criminal, and make it back home in one piece? Im confused.”

Rightfully so. You didn’t have it all planned out. You didn’t give him all the details. You didn’t even know the details yourself! Now, you’re putting your trust in an old friend who claims that he believes in hybrid rights?

Sounds like a bunch of horse shit to Jin.

“Jin please just hear me out”, you begged. “I have this friend- well old classmate, really. He’s a researcher who is currently on strike for his beliefs on hybrid testing and abuse. If I can get to him, he might be able to help us get Joon back.”

You could see the look on Jin’s face. He was still dubious, and he had every right to be. Why do we have to go? He wondered. Can you promise me we’ll make it back?

“You want my honest opinion?” You nodded frantically. “Okay...”

He paused. “I feel like it’s a shitty idea.”

“Jin-“

“No! You wanna know what I think? I think it’s a dumb fucking idea! God knows what will happen on the way there. Not to mention, Joon may already be dead! Then you have led us into a trap where we will all face the same fate, you included!” 

You sighed. You were getting nowhere. Dead end after dead end. It seemed hopeless.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

A notification popped up on your phone. It was a text message. One that you didn’t expect…

Kim Hongjoong 8:35 AM

Hey, it’s been a while

Been thinking about you…

Im actually back home visiting my parents

Was wondering if you maybe

wanted to catch up?

***

He felt like he was floating. His body was beaten and bruised. His hearing was foggy. He couldn’t hear the whisperings going on in the lab, but he could hear the banging on the metal bars of his cell.

“Leave him!” One researcher yelled. “Dr. Kim said not to touch him until he gets back! Do you really want to upset him?”

The other guy rolled his eyes. “Why would I care what he says?”

“Maybe because he signs our checks?” The researcher continued his tasks, analyzing Namjoons blood in the glass test tube. “Can you at least try to not sound like an asshole?”

The guy smirked, banging on the bars one more time.

“Not possible.”

***

That night you curled up in bed with a good book, needing a distraction. The pack wanted to sleep together, leaving you with a bed all to yourself. You knew how they felt about you, perceiving you as part of the pack, but it didn’t feel right to impose on their personal time together. You’re human after all. You might not ever truly be apart of them…

“You think loudly. Your face shows it all”

You jumped, throwing your book to the side. Wasn’t like you were reading it anyway. “My god Yoongi! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He shushed you. “Keep it down. It took forever for everyone to go to sleep. I almost didn’t make it here”, he laughed, making his way to the left side of the bed. You scooted over to give him room.

“I thought you guys were sleeping together tonight?” You asked. “Isn’t this like a pack violation or something?” Yoongi stuffed himself under the covers and rested his head on the pillow.

“Just lay down and shut up”, he huffed.

“Well, excuse me”, you giggled, reaching over to your nightstand and turning off the light. Yoongi held his arms out, an invitation for you to be held. He seemed to always know exactly what you needed. “Thanks Yoon.”

“Anytime my love, anytime.”

Taglist! (still open for you guys!)

@yoongicatcat @wifflepuff1344 @unwillingly-oblivious @shycreationdreamland @emer-syn @rinkud @amimami1991 @singukieee @nikkiordonez12 @xicanacorpse @cestlabellemort @whipwhoops @spider-thot0115 @ddaeng-angmoh @silscintilla @readerofallthingss @welcometomyworld13 @danielle143 @kookiesbunny @yoongiigolden @woozixo @anaspectoflife @blackrockshooter780 @talyaaas-blog @eashmo @jaiele @kaceypdf @reallysparklychaos @lizzymizzy-blogg @rainfprest @shycreationdreamland @belikejk @00ihatesnaku @stellauniverse @tinybasementmaker-blog @comingupwithacoolnameishard @juju-227592 @crispynutella @buckylov3r @euphxiakoo @m00njinnie @nobody3210 @jxxdathehottie

Perm taglist!

@famousdelusionobservation @marblemoonstones @stupendousliteraturewritingoaf @fearnotfimmie @v-love @tired7o7 @jewishmommy @ghostlyworld @devilzliaison

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

omg i loved innate desire to protect! are you going to do a pt 2? if so please let the reader make it out alive😭😭

Yes!! I did this one part angst and part fluff lol, best of both worlds!!!

Thanks for reading😊💚

Part 1:

Warnings: angst, mentions of violence, swearing

Innate Desire to Protect Part 2

"She’s suffered some major internal bleeding, and it may take some time for her to wake up from these injuries. I really can’t put a time stamp on it, gentleman, I’m sorry.” 

“Thank you Doctor, we appreciate all that you are doing for them.” Price said, patting Ghost on the back.

Each of 141 was continuously in your hospital room, they took turns taking watch on you, none of them really wanting you to wake up alone.

Ghost could only stare at the doctor, he was hoping she would've given a different answer. He wanted you to be awake, he wanted to scold you for doing something so impossibly stupid, jeopardizing your life for his. 

“Alright gents, why don’t 3 of us head on over to Patricks and grab a drink and a bite, we’ll have someone swap out in a bit.” Gaz suggested. They were all tired, and frankly could use a drink after the long days that followed the mission, and the near death scare you gave them. 

“God I’d go for a whiskey.” Price muttered, standing up and heading to the door.

“L.T. why don't you head over to the bar with the guys. I’ll be here to watch her.” Soap said, silently hoping Simon would finally take the chance to decompress. He knew you’d be okay, but Simon hadn’t allowed himself to unwind the tension that had built inside him since you got shot. 

Simon studied Soap for a moment, considering his words. Perhaps a bourbon was just what he needed to relax. He trusted Johnny to stay here and look after you.

“Thanks, Johnny.” He said, making his way out of the room with Price and Gaz, not before sparing you a concerned glance.

“Go, L.T. I’ve got her.” Soap said, noticing his lieutenants hesitance to leave. 

Simon only nodded, the final push from Soap being what he needed to head out the door.

“Stubborn bastard.” Soap chuckled under his breath. He relaxed in his chair, finally taking the time to rest, his gaze thoughtfully landing on you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was about two hours later, when you awoke to the sounds of muffled laughter and a voice saying, “Steaming Jesus, that’s too funny.”

Your eyelids fluttered open, and you slowly took in your surroundings. You noticed that Soap was sitting in the armchair next to your hospital bed, watching what seemed to be a children’s tv show, on your hospital tv.

“Truly a kid at heart, aren’t you Johnny.” You said softly, giggling to yourself at the sight.

Soap immediately jerked his head to look at you upon hearing your voice. “Kid, you're awake!” He exclaimed, moving the chair to face you. “Good to see you in one piece.”

“Doesn’t feel like I am in one piece, and you're one to call kid.” You joked back. 

Soap laughed at this, softly putting his hand on yours. “Gave us quite the fright kid, Ghost’s mask was cracking, and fast.” You knew which mask he meant. He meant that Simon was appearing from underneath the mask that was Ghost. There was a fine distinction between Simon, and Ghost. Anytime he was on the field, or preparing for a mission, he was Ghost. When he was off duty, or in the safety of his or your room, he was Simon. Very few people were lucky enough to ever see this side of him. You and the boys of 141 were really the only people who got to see him for who he really was. 

At the mention of his name, you looked around expecting to see your lover sitting somewhere in the room. To say you were disappointed when you didn’t see him, was an understatement. 

Soap took notice of this, and immediately went to ease your worries. “Ah, that lover boy of yours went out with the boys to Patricks. I nearly had to kick him in the ass just to get him out.”

“Sounds like him.” you smiled to yourself. 

“Yeah, stubborn- “ Soap started, just as Ghost came in to relieve him. 

“You’re awake.” He said coolly, eyeing you.

“That’s my cue.” Soap said awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to be as far away from this conversation as possible.

As Soap left, you could feel the atmosphere in the room change significantly. You knew Simon was mad at you for what you did, you just didn’t realize the extent of it.

“It’s good to see you, love.” You said, trying to ease some of the tension.

“It’s good to see you? That is all you have to say to me?!” Simon roared, gripping the foot of the bed. You could see his knuckles turning white, from how hard he was gripping.

“Simon, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You countered.

“How about, Lieutenant, I am sorry I acted a fool, without thought, and charged headfirst into a fight without a plan. How about the fact that you’re reckless, and you could have died. Huh? How about any of those Y/N.” He was full on yelling at this point, not caring who heard him.

You could feel tears pooling in the corner of your eyes. You’d never heard him speak to you like this before. You knew he’d be upset that you tried sacrificing yourself to save him, but you thought that he may be a tad bit grateful at least.

“I- I’m so-” you started.

“No, I don’t want to hear whatever excuse you have. It was my fight, if it was my time to go then so be it. I cannot have people who are careless and have no regard for common sense on my team. Maybe it’s best I talk to Price about having you transferred. I knew us working together would be a problem, I just knew it.”

“You.. want me off the team?” You choked out, the tears now fully coming down. You aggressively wiped them away, not wanting him to see you cry.

“I honestly don’t know what I want anymore Y/N.” He said, his voice now low. Shaking his head, he stood up, and stormed out of the room without sparing you a second glance.

The minute he left the room, you let yourself sob uncontrollably.  You have never been spoken to like that from him before, and it left your heart in shatters. The words he had spoken to you just now, had your mind spinning. What did he mean he didn’t know what he wanted anymore? Did he not want you anymore?

You hadn’t noticed Soap sneak back into the room, and take a seat next to you in the arm chair. “Love.. are you okay?” He asked, putting his hand on your leg.

“No, I’m not. I don’t even know how to feel right now. I saved his life, I’m not dead.. I would’ve thought, I don’t know? I wasn’t expecting whatever the hell that was.” You sobbed, throwing yourself into Soap’s embrace.

“I know, I heard it all. Figured it best I didn’t head out, in case he pulled something like this.” He replied, rubbing your back to comfort you.

“I think he wants to end things with me.. I don’t know what else he could have meant.” You said wiping the abundance of tears streaming down your face.

“I wouldn’t say that love. It’s Ghost saying that, not Simon, I’m sure of it. I know how he reacted isn’t right, but he watched the love of his life nearly get killed trying to save him. I can’t imagine what I would be feeling if I were him.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe this isn’t what is best for us.”

“I am not going to push you into thinking one way or another, but I know that man loves you more than anything. Just give him time, yeah? For now, why don’t you just lay back down and rest. I’ll stay here til morning with you.” Soap said as he helped you lie back down in the bed.

“Thank you, Johnny. For everything.” You replied, shutting your eyes.

“Always, Y/N”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Four days had passed since you woke up. You were discharged two days ago, and your days were filled with paperwork, and mundane office work. Price had strictly ordered you to desk duty for 2 weeks, until the doctors cleared you for field work again. 

You hadn’t seen Simon since the night he lashed out at you. You’d caught glimpses of him in the hallways, but he never met your eyes. The more days that went on without the two of you speaking, the less optimistic you were about your relationship with him.

You were lost in thought when Price had approached the desk you were temporarily occupying. “Hey Y/N, why don’t you take a break. Go get a coffee or something. You’ve been sitting there like a zombie for hours.”

You looked up from the paperwork you were trying to fill out, and gave him a small smile. “Thanks John, I don’t know if coffee will solve the problem I am having.”

“Ahh, well. Never know til ya try, right?” He said, throwing you a wink. 

“Suppose you’re right. Thanks.” You offered, watching Price walk out of the office.

Sighing, you stood up from the desk and started to make your way to the break room. You stopped abruptly when you saw a figure standing by the coffee machine. Ghost.

“I was just stopping to get a cup, I’ll be on my way in a moment.” You said, suddenly feeling very small.

He just looked at you, no ounce of emotion showing behind his skull balaclava. You wanted nothing more than to make your cup of coffee and get out of there. The tension between you two was too thick to bear.

In the few minutes it took to make the coffee, neither of you spoke. The silence was uncomfortable to say the least. The minute the coffee was done, you quickly grabbed the cup, and made a B-Line for the door.

“Y/N” Simon’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“Sir.” You replied.

“Simon.” He corrected you.

You sighed deeply at this, not knowing what to expect next from him. Frankly, you never knew what to expect with him.

“Simon.” You repeated.

“I- I uh. Bloody hell I suck at this.” He started, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “Y/N, I am sorry. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.”

“No, you shouldn’t have.” You countered, putting the arm not holding your coffee crossed against your chest. Simon recognized this immediately for what it was, it was a defense mechanism. You were subconsciously trying to protect yourself, to shell in your heart.

His eyes softened greatly at this, and he moved slowly toward you. You didn’t move away.

“I just couldn’t stop replaying those moments in my head. Watching you just rush in there without a second thought, taking that bullet meant for ME. Y/N I can’t get it out, it’s all I see. If you hadn’t made it.. I.. I.” He couldn’t finish his sentence. But you knew what he meant.

You put the coffee down on the nearest table, and went to embrace him. He immediately accepted the embrace, and squeezed you tight. You both stood there for a few moments, enjoying each other’s warmth.

“I’m sorry, Simon. I know I could’ve handled that better, but the sight of you being hurt like that just made everything go numb. I would do it again, if it meant you being alive.” You said, pulling his chin down so you could look him eye to eye. “I will always protect you. That was our oath to each other, remember? On the field we’d always have each other’s backs.”

“I should’ve been the one who protected you, and I failed.” His voice breaking. Oh, now you understood. Not only was he upset at the prospect of losing you, but he was also feeling like a failure, and that he couldn't protect you. 

"Oh, Simon." You cried softly, pulling him back into an embrace.

"I'm sorry love. I promise to be better. I know 'm shit with my emotions, and it's something I've got to work on. If you'll still have me that is." His voice was laced with trepidation, as if fearing your answer would break his heart. 

"I will always want you, Simon Riley." You cooed, reaching up so you could lift the balaclava slightly, to plant a firm kiss on his lips.

"Now if you ever talk to me like that again, I'll make sure you don't walk for a week Mr. Riley." You pulled away and wagged your finger at him, trying to look as menacing as possible. 

"That's my girl." He chuckled, leaning back down to kiss your forehead, and you could've sworn you heard a soft "thank you" escape his lips. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

Let me know if you have any other requests. I've been enjoying writing these, and hope that you enjoy reading!!🙃

[natigail]

I wanted to see how insane their solo stories from this video looked written out, so please enjoy!

Dan's story "The Dragon Prince"

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Dan from the House of Fire who's motto was "the fire in our ass will never die!" And from Phil, House Amazing, the kingdom of squatting. They were sworn enemies whose houses were at war ever since the great lamp licking incidence. One day, Dan was bathing his fiery drake, Kamala, when he saw a glint in the reflection of his gauntlet. It was a surprise attack from that scallywag Phil! He mounted his dragon and yelled his signature war cry: "ZING!" Phil looked down at the fire kingdom. "Hah, more like squishy kingdom." But before he knew it, Dan was on his tail, he was so close he was practically on his toe. Their beasts, Kamala and Markiplier, released flames at the same time like a torrent of lethal piss. Double K.O. They fell to the ground and lost consciousness. Dan awoke to find Phil's brain stuck in Dan's eye. He shouted, "wow, this is a moist situation." Phil roused gayly. "You saved me," he said. They locked eyes and in that moment, they knew how futile their feud was. They saved each other. Did they have to slay each other? In that moment, Phil felt something skipping down his hips. He swam as hard as he could and suddenly, he felt it, Phil had birthed a beautiful, purple egg. Dan scoffed, "the prophecy is true." "It's our child," Phil said. "The legendary worm and we shall name him Gary." The end.

Phil's story "The Princes"

Once upon a castle in a kingdom called Evony, there were two princing belonging to warring families. Tonight was the last time they would meet before the great battle. Danielo awoke, sword in hand, as he heard a shuffle at the door. Philipus walked into his bedroom wearing a panty. "I didn't mean to disturb you but I thought I should tell you that my father is bringing a dragon to the party and also a large, enchanted hippo. Danielo cried a single tear. "I don't want to die for this stupid family, I just want to be a knight with you and help old ladies cross the street." "Why must we spill blood?" Danielo smirked. "Glory and Amazon coins. Philipus said, "it's our final night together, I thought we could do our favourite activity - twerking. It might make us a bit sweaty but it makes me constipated. As the sun rose, the two knights had fallen asleep in a hay field, using rabbit shit as bedding. This was the morning of the battle, they would be on opposing side. Danielo flew into battle on his dragon Jeff, scanning the skies for his prince Philipus. Philipus raised a sword into the sky as he was silhouetted by the beast. This was not a fair fight. The war had begun. Thousands were being killed. Philipus had a secret weapon, a medieval salami. His best friend flew down from his dragon and approached him. They crossed swords. "I can't do this, Philipus," screamed Danielo. "I want to move to North Korea, start our jobs as Only Phans models." Philipus tried to reason with him but suddenly, Danielo's dragon Jeff started to breath fire at them both. It was so hot, Danielo was on fire. He had one final word for Philipus: "yeee..." as both knights burned to death. They were then eaten by the dragon as a toasty, barbecue snack. They tasted like Takis Fuego. The dragon went on to kill all soldiers and both kings. It ruled the castle in a happy, gay life with his dragon boyfriend, Allisandra, and laid a dragon egg, which he called Kip. They never saw another human again. The princes would always be remembered as the tastiest snacks in the kingdom.

[waughymommy]

HAPPY SUNDAY BABIES, MOMMYS, DADDYS AND EVERYONE READING...😘🌈🦋🥒🍆🩱👠😶‍🌫️🫶🏻

Where are you reading from?😘😘💔🍼💋

MOMMY KNOWS BEST

Chapter 7

            Brian awoke before Rebecca. He gingerly got up from the bed so as not to disturb her. He walked into their bathroom and just stared into the mirror. The state of euphoria he had experienced earlier was replaced with shame and disgust at himself. He felt the heaviness of his pullup. The last 48 hours had been a mental whirlwind. His emotions were all over the place and he lacked any clarity of what was happening. Control seemed to be slipping away from him. He ripped the pullup and threw it in the trash can. He needed a shower to feel clean and maybe he could recenter himself.

            Water and soap couldn’t scrub away his embarrassment, but the warm water at least felt good. Why this? Why do I want to be an adult baby? It isn’t normal. Brian first noticed his babyish desires when he was about 13. His father ran off with another woman when he was little, leaving his wife to raise two young boys. She eventually remarried a few years later, but the departure of his father impressed upon the Brian the need to be responsible and mature. He saw himself as the male of the house. He rejected anything he deemed childish. He seldom played with toys. When he was toddler, his mother had decorated his room with Sesame Street characters. It had been his favorite, but after his father left, he ripped down all the décor, telling his mother that was for babies.

He focused on his studies and presenting himself as a sophisticated. He yearned for every adult he spoke with to see him as an articulate and intelligent young man. Brian never caused any problems and was a model student. He seemed more at ease talking to adults about history rather than spending time with his own peer group. Brian had always been a bit shy and reserved, but teachers recognized that he possessed the character of a true leader. Anyone that knew Brian always commented that he was an old soul.

            Then came the day that his mother announced that they were expecting another baby. Little did he know that it would awaken deep seated feelings. Brian never let his mother cuddle him, but as he watched his mother’s belly get bigger, he found himself wanting that maternal affection. He tried to resist those feelings, but they only grew more intense. On a few occasions, he caved to his feelings and snuggled up next to his mother. His mother treasured those moments as he so seldomly expressed needing her. She held her boy to her chest as she did when he was little. He remembered a day not long before his sister was born, his mother invited him to lay his head on her belly. He could feel the baby moving inside. He felt ashamed of himself in that moment for needing his mother. Babies need their mother, not him.

            His sister was born a few days after his 13th birthday. He was now a teenager, but because his mother was due any day, his birthday came with little fanfare. When mother and baby returned home, Brian’s confusion only grew more intense. He was her big brother. But then one evening, Brian sat transfixed upon his mother as she was breastfeeding. In that moment, all he wanted to do was switch places. It was the first time he truly yearned to be a baby. Those feelings took him completely off guard. It was one thing to want to snuggle with his mother, but to want to be a baby suckling at his mother. The fantasy both excited him and disgusted him. He started to question his own sanity. Am I crazy? I am surely the only person in the world who has these feelings. Over the next few weeks, Brian experienced dreams where he was a baby. In one of those dreams, he remembered that he was in a diaper and he felt his bladder let go. He woke up just as he was starting to pee. Fortunately, he was able to stop himself before he soaked his bed. He couldn’t believe that happened. He managed to do his laundry without attracting the attention of his mother, but that dream only strengthened his curiosity about wearing diapers.

            One day while his mother was out running errands, Brian snuck into the nursery. He plucked a pacifier from a stash of them. Surely his mother wouldn’t notice that one was missing, but then he went a step further. He snatched a diaper. He knew he couldn’t possibly fit into it, but with some tape he could fasten it around himself. He went back into his room, locked the door. His hands were trembling. Maybe this was a bad idea, but he closed his eyes and placed the pacifier in his mouth. The feeling of bliss was immediate and it felt so natural to be sucking on it. He stripped down and taped the diaper around his waist. He told himself over and over again to just let go. He recalled the feeling of the dream when he almost wet his bed. It was only natural for a baby to wet their diaper. He started to relax and he began to urinate. It start as a few spurts, but then he completely soaked the diaper. Pee ran down his legs. It was the greatest thing he had ever experienced. Brian realized in that moment that he was truly a baby deep down. He was never going to be the same again.

[scarredlove]

How do each of the boys (respectively) react to y/n falling asleep on them? They seem comfy soo~

King of Fools

Sun would be absolutely stunned, feeling unworthy of you being comforted enough to sleep upon him. After a few minutes of silent panic, he would carefully try to gather you into his arms and return you to your quarters, laying you carefully down into bed and tucking you in before leaving, though would look back to make sure you didn't stir.

Moon would be surprised also, but wouldn't hold it against you for resting. He wouldn't be sure what to do, in case being seen with him ruined your reputation, so may instead carry you to his small abode above the castle's stables and resting you onto his settee, draping a blanket on you and sitting nearby in case you awoke in a panic, but would wake you when he thought you'd napped enough.

Sea Slug Attendants

All of them would be smiling, maybe chuckle at seeing you sleep on them.

Moony Slug would pull you closer into his lap and curl around you, maybe fold the length of his robes over you as a personal blanket and maybe fall asleep with you, nuzzling into your hair.

Eclipse would pull you into his lap too but hold you bridal style, one hand in your hair, combing your locks, whilst the other maybe holding a book, or maybe a remote as he watched some documentaries.

Sunny Slug would nuzzle you softly before gently carrying you off to bed, tucking you in and making sure you're comfortable, slowly easing the door closed before going around the house to do chores, so when you awoke, all was clean and sorted.