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veltana · 1 year ago

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No one as sweet as you - Mafia!Stucky/Reader

✦ Pairing: Stucky/Reader ✦ Word count: ~9,4k ✦ Rating: Explicit ✦ Warnings: Mafia AU, best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, protective!stucky, TW: reader is verbally and physically abused by john walker, idiots in love, sharing a bed, poly relationship, piv sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, praise kink, pet names (Sweets), unprotected sex, creampie. ✦ Summary: When you’re hurt by your boyfriend you go to the two people you can depend on for anything, Steve and Bucky, your best friends. ✦ Note: This is a fic that was previously posted on AO3, at the beginning of the year. But since I'm stuck in writer's block right now I thought I would post this in case you haven't read it. It's one of my favorites. There are some short prequel fics to this also posted on AO3, about when they were living together in college. I'll post those too in the following weeks.

Series masterlist

Masterlist | AO3

The bouncer gives you one glance before he opens the door for you and the line of people you pass shout angrily but you don’t even spare them a glance, your thoughts elsewhere. The music in the club usually invigorates you but tonight it passes through without leaving a trace.

Making your way to Monica at the bar, the people you pass shoot you weird glances and you know you must look a mess. When she sees you she comes right over, the music is too loud to talk so you share a squeeze of the forearm in place of a hug before she pours you your favorite wine, with a pitying smile at your smeared mascara. You throw a kiss at her before making your way to the back and once again the big man at the door opens it for you after a quick look.

The music is muted as you make your way to the stairs at the back that take you up to their private room. When your heels land at the top and you meet Bucky's eyes he lifts the girl currently on his lap off and declares "Everyone out."

Steve shoots him an irritated look before his eyes follow Bucky's and sees you. You stand perfectly still while the women and men who were enjoying a private party with two of the biggest mobsters in New York mill past you down the stairs, some even shoot you dirty looks.

When the last person has passed, you take a step towards them, but before you're two steps in, Bucky has taken the glass from your hand and Steve has lifted you into his arms. You cling to him, hands grasping his shirts, and finally, you know you’re safe.

Steve sits down with you in his lap, cradling your head to lean it against him, the other arm holding you tight at your waist. Bucky's palms are gentle when he rubs your back soothingly. None of them say anything at first but the tears running down your face speak for themselves. You made it all the way without breaking down but with them, you can be vulnerable. For the last seven years, they’ve been the rock, the shelter, and your haven.

"Talk to us, Sweets," Bucky's voice is only that soft with you, maybe sometimes with Steve too, “What’s going on?” You try to take a deep breath, but it just stutters. After a few more tries it’s better but you’re not sure where to begin. They give you time, and don't press you on information, like they otherwise do in their line of work.

Finally, you release Steve's shirt and instead, you find the hand he has wrapped around your waist, twisting the rings on his fingers as you try to speak. You don't want to look at them, the shame and the anxiety is running high in your body but you want to tell them, you just have to find the right words.

"You know the guy I've been seeing," you start and feel Steve's arms tighten around you. Before you can say more Bucky mutters "I'm gonna kill him." Steve is calmer and asks, "What about John, Sweets?" He speaks into your hair, his voice is gentle but it has a hard edge. "He's been so sweet since we started going out, but he's been having a rough time at work lately," you squeeze your eyes shut, not wanting to remember, your heart beating like crazy. The memories bring forth the panic and the fear again and your breath gets shallow.

"It's alright Sweets, you're here with us, nothing can hurt you," Bucky's low voice is comforting, together with their touch, and you know he’s telling you the truth. It’s the reason you came here instead of going home.

You take a few more breaths and continue "So I thought I'd do something nice for him. We had a spa day and while he soaked in the tub I made dinner and dressed up for him." Frowning hard, your fingers spin the rings on Steve's hand faster and faster the more your anxiety builds, knowing what’s coming.

"And everything was great until I poured the wine and spilled some on the tablecloth." Your mouth opens and closes a few times and the tears start to fall again but Bucky is there with his thumbs, cradling your face and brushing them away, while Steve rocks you gently in his embrace.

"He was furious," you cry. "Said I ruined everything! He threw the wine in my face, then the bottle across the room. He tried to grab me but I ran out of there." There is a long silence when you finish, it’s just your sobs and the music from the other side of the wall. Then Steve says "I'm gonna fucking kill him," his voice laced with rage, and he hugs you even closer.

"I took a cab here, I didn’t know where else to go, I didn’t wanna go home." With the last words out you feel a small relief. You’ve told them. You’ve told someone. The scene still plays in your head, seeing John's eyes turn black with rage when the drops of rosé landed on the white linen, feeling the fear when he started screaming.

"Thank you for telling us, Sweets. You’re an incredible person," Steve says and moves you out of his lap and over to Bucky's. They treat you with the utmost care, moving slowly, giving you time to protest if you want, or detangle yourself if that's what you desire. But you let them manipulate your body how they like because sometimes they know what you need more than you do.

"You did nothing wrong," he goes on to say, holding onto your hands, letting his thumbs caress the skin. "John is an absolute fucking asshole and no one should be treated like that.” You meet his green-blue eyes that are only soft for you, and Bucky. Right now, Steve isn’t the feared mobster that people avert their eyes from when he enters a room, scared they’re going to end up in a ditch because they looked at him wrong. No, this Steve is your best friend.

"I don't want to be scared, and I don't want to go home in case he comes there," you confess. "You'll stay with us," Bucky decides, voice finite. "Let’s go home so you can take a shower and change clothes." You nod and are about to stand up but Bucky is quicker, changing his grip and holding you close as he gets up. He carries you to the car and doesn't let go of you until you're in their mansion, in the room you have there.

When he puts you down your feet are a little unsteady and they both look at you with concern, but you give them a weak smile “It’s okay.” "We'll be right outside, shout if you need anything," Steve tells you and when you nod they both step out and close the door softly behind them.

For a moment you stand still, trying to make sense of the last hours, wondering how everything went to shit. Then you finally get a good look at yourself in the tall mirror and see the black rivulets of mascara and eyeliner smudged down your cheeks, the foundation almost gone.

The dress is ruined by the wine and even if it was expensive and you can get it dry cleaned you don’t want it anymore. You pull it off and throw it into the trash can, quickly followed by the heels. The lingerie is one of your favorite sets but you're unsure if you will ever be able to enjoy it again without remembering how you chose it especially for John. After a moment it goes into the trash, and the earrings too, feeling like you need everything from the night to be gone.

The only thing you keep on your body is the necklace that was a gift from Bucky and Steve years ago and you haven’t taken it off since. It's custom-made with three delicate chains in gold, silver, and black twisted together. You loved it the moment you saw it, knowing that the chains were the three of you, twisted together through the rest of your lives. When you touch it with your fingers it makes you feel better, because you can feel them with you.

The shower feels more than just bodily cleansing and when you remove the last pieces of your smeared makeup, smoothing eye cream over your puffy eyes, the feeling of fear and panic is distant.

In the closet are a bunch of your clothes, probably more than you like to admit, but the best part is the drawer with their old t-shirts. You pull one out, not sure which of them it used to belong to, but it’s worn and soft against your skin. For a moment you press it against your nose, breathing in the detergent that reminds you of this place and all the wonderful memories that you have with them, before you find your pajama pants.

Out in your room you sit on the bed and look around at the muted colors. Bucky and Steve insisted that the room was yours, not just a guest room, and it makes you smile a little when you think about how much fun you had decorating it.

After taking a deep breath you open the door and find them just a few steps away. The look in Bucky's eyes is murderous and Steve's fists are clenched by his side, but when they turn to you they go back to being your best friends that you met in college all those years ago. "How are you feeling?" Bucky steps up to you and pulls you into a soft hug, tucking your head underneath his chin as you wrap your arms around his waist, breathing in the smell of him. Steve comes up behind you, placing his palms on your shoulders, rubbing the muscles carefully. "Better now," you answer. "But I never had dinner so I'm a bit hungry."

Bucky pulls away from you, cradling your face, tilting it up until you're looking right into his light blue eyes. "Let's go raid the kitchen," he smiles and holds your gaze for a few seconds more and there is so much love in those eyes it's almost scary. You know he would burn down the city if it made you happy, they both would, and that intensity is one of the many things that have kept you from finding out what it would be like to be theirs. You're not sure you'd be able to handle it.

When Bucky lets go of you, Steve's arm goes around your waist and he pulls you into him, Bucky takes your hand, lacing your fingers together, and you walk to the kitchen. You sit down at the kitchen island while they open the fridge.

"The chef made mac'n’cheese," Steve says and pulls out an oven pan, covered in tin foil with a post-it note on top with instructions for heating it. Bucky turns on the oven and says, "Want something to drink Sweets?"

"Soda?" you ask and Steve pulls a can out of the fridge before settling down beside you, handing it to you. You hand it right back "Please? I don't wanna fuck up my nails." That makes him chuckle as he opens it and the sound makes you warm on the inside so you lean your head against his shoulder.

"Thank you," you sigh. "For always being here for me. I'm sorry I ruined your party." "You didn't ruin shit," Bucky spits out, glaring at you from where he is standing by the oven. Steve and you chuckle at his harsh tone but then he leans forward, over the counter towards you, resting his large arms against the surface.

"I mean it, Sweets, don't you ever think you ruin anything by showing up, for any reason," his voice is stern but you know it comes from a place of love. "Thank you, Bucky, it means a lot," you smile.

When the oven is warm Bucky puts the tray in and pulls out plates. It only takes a few minutes and your tummy rumbles as the kitchen fills with the smell of cheese. Bucky and Steve make small talk about work things and you're grateful for them filling the silence while you finally get some food.

But it isn't the nice chicken that you cooked for John that you looked forward to eating and your eyes begin to burn. Even though you try to force the tears back they come anyway and run down your cheeks as you eat. Neither Bucky nor Steve notice until you reach for a paper towel and sniffle loudly. Not a second later you're wrapped up in Steve's embrace, crying into his shirt again while Bucky caresses your hair and nape. They mumble sweet things to you and tell you that you're safe and that nothing is ever going to hurt you again.

After a few minutes, the tears run dry. "I'm okay," you say and Steve loosens his hold, his eyes filled with concern for you. "You sure?" "Yeah, but I feel like I've been hit by a truck. Should probably try to get some sleep.” "We're sleeping in my room," Bucky decides and you nod, Steve too.

It's not unusual for the three of you to share a bed when one of you has had a rough time. The first time it happened was after finals and you all fell asleep in Steve's bed, totally exhausted, and slept better than you'd had in weeks.

Then it was after break-ups, yours, Steve's, Bucky's, somehow you all ended up in a bed together every time and it wasn't sexual at any point, just friends being there for each other and it continued through the years. The only time it was out of the question was when one of you was in a relationship, then it just felt weird, and from previous experience, it wasn't something that partners were all that accepting of.

You retrieve your pillows and cover from your room before settling in Bucky’s huge bed, your feet twisted up with Steve's, and Bucky is holding your hand. It's nice, it's familiar and you drift off knowing you're safe with them.

The room is dark when their soft voices wake you, but that might be because of the black-out curtains and not because it's still night. They’ve moved close enough to you that you can feel the warmth from their bodies on either side of you, and Bucky’s chest is right in front of your eyes when you open them slightly to peek. They don't notice you're awake and you don't feel like announcing it either, curious what they’re talking about.

"We let her decide." Even if Steve's tone is hushed it's still hard. "She is too sweet, you know she would never hurt a fly, she's going to say no," Bucky protests harshly in a whisper. This is interesting, you think.

"Even if you and I are fine with getting blood on our hands, maybe she doesn't want to live with that, maybe she wants to press charges." Steve has always been the more level-headed of the two, good with looking at things from all angles and keeping his cool. Bucky huffs and you want to giggle. His emotions always get him in trouble, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. When Bucky is angry he sees red and when he loves he does it with his whole soul and being. One time you asked Steve how he isn’t dead yet since his poker face seems to suck, but Steve explained that when they’re doing business he is usually calm and collected. When his emotions finally break through, people know they should probably run.

"Fine.” You can tell Bucky is not happy but he lowers his voice even more, and now it’s tinged with something else. “But I'm never letting her go again." His words together with his gentle tone make your heart skip. There was a time when you seriously thought about asking them to see if the three of you could work it out, and be more than just friends. But what you have with them is so precious that if it fails in the end, and you lose your best friends, you're not sure how you're going to go on.

"And you think I will?" Steve mutters. "We should have said something a long time ago." "Well, we can't go back in time. All I know is that I love her and I can't see her with anyone else ever again," Bucky's voice sounds like it's going to crack. He never cries but that is as close as it gets.

Steve reaches over you towards him, you can't see what he does but you know how Steve's comforting hands look on Bucky, you've seen it before. Sometimes they're even sweeter with each other than they are with you, when they think no one can see them, not even you. It's so clear that they love each other deeply, honestly it's surprising that they don't just date each other.

You hear Bucky hum in contentment and Steve gives a small soft laugh. It feels like a good time as any to pretend to wake up. You file away their words for another day, not ready to deal with them now in the wake of what’s happened. First, you need to heal the broken heart you're already nursing before thinking about giving it away again.

With a groan you turn from your side to your back, stretching and blinking your eyes open. They're lying on their sides, both resting their heads on their hands. "What time is it?" you mumble, rubbing your eyes. "Just past nine," Bucky informs you and brushes a few strands of hair out of your face. "And you two are still here?" "Just for you," Steve says softly and finds your hand, twisting your fingers together.

Both of them are early risers and you hate mornings, something they tease you for endlessly. "Honestly though, have you already, like, gone for a run, had breakfast, and then sealed some important deal?" "Nope." Bucky slides his arm in under your neck, placing the other hand on your hip, and pulls you closer to him. "We didn't want to leave in case you woke up." Steve shuffles closer, his chest pressing into your shoulder. "Didn't want you to think we left you all by yourself."

You hum and decide to ask "Would it be okay if I stay here a few days?" "Sweets, stay as long as you want. It's your home as much as ours,” Steve answers. "No,” you correct. “My name is definitely not on any papers for this house." "We can fix that if that's what you want. Just move here." Bucky is serious but you decide to laugh it off. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Like old times." he smiles.

"Except I have no desire to listen to the people you bring home scream and moan, got enough of that in college,” tumbles out of your mouth without really thinking of it. They exchange a look but before they can say anything you hastily continue. "Do you think I need to break up with John, or do you think he got the message when I left?"

An uneasy silence falls and Bucky breaks it. "I'm gonna be honest with you Sweets, I really wanna fucking kill him, and make it as painful and as horrifying for him as possible. Death will feel like a blessing in the end." Steve speaks next. "But it's your decision, and if you wanna press charges against him, we'll make our lawyers available."

It’s a lot to take in at that moment. "I don't know,” you answer truthfully. “It still hurts, I'm still scared but I'm not sure what will make it better." "When you've decided you let us know and we'll do whatever you want." Steve bends down to kiss the top of your head.

"If I see him on the street or something though I'm gonna punch him," Bucky says casually before letting go of you and getting out of bed. When his warmth leaves you, you whine and that makes him chuckle. He kneels on the bed and kisses your forehead. "Steve will keep you company while I make breakfast." "You mean go get what the chef has already prepared?" you joke. Bucky shoots you a look before leaving the bedroom.

"We should be glad he isn't actually cooking. Remember when he tried to make pancakes for his girlfriend and almost burned down the apartment," Steve notes. "That's because he got distracted. I mean, I'm glad I came out of my room when I did but the image of Bucky and her on the kitchen table still haunts me," you chuckle.

"You weren't exactly innocent back in those days either," Steve points out with a laugh. "But I never did it on the communal surfaces," you defend with a huff. "No, all we got was listening to you trying to stifle every sound and failing miserably." "Well, at least I didn't break a wall while fucking someone." "It was a shitty wall, never have that problem here." "See that's why I don't wanna move here." "We can soundproof your room?" "Or I can just live in my apartment?"

Bucky comes back with a breakfast tray and places it on the bedside table before pulling out your phone from his pants. "It's been buzzing nonstop since I got down," he explains and hands it to you right as the screen lights up with an incoming call.

"It's John," you tell them, and your chest floods with anxiety as you stare at the screen and sit up against the headboard. "Answer it," Steve sits up beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. Bucky is pressed against you much the same on your other side. "On speaker," he instructs and takes out his own phone to record the call.

Your hands shake as you swipe to answer. "H-hello." Your voice is wavering. "Baby! I'm sorry for yesterday, I'm sorry I got mad. I've been calling since you left, I've been so worried. I checked your place but you weren't home. Where are you?" John says in a worried voice. "I'm at a friend's house," you reply.

The feelings in your chest are conflicted, on one hand you never want to see him again but hearing his voice makes you remember that when he is good he is great, amazing even, and you would be lying if you said you didn't miss him. For the last few months, you gave it your all and you were even prepared to tell him you love him.

"I'll come and pick you up and let me apologize properly," he sounds pained like he is actually sorry for what he did. Fuck, it's so tempting to go back but you know better. You know that this is just the tip of the iceberg, and getting wine thrown in your face is probably not the worst that can happen.

"No, John." You try to sound confident but you're not sure it comes across. "I don't think it's going to work out between us." The moment you say the words the tears well up and Steve starts rubbing your shoulder." You're doing great," he whispers right by your ear so John doesn't hear.

"Are you-" John sounds shocked. "Are you breaking up with me… over the phone?" "Yeah, sorry." You cringe, you shouldn't be sorry. "You scared me yesterday and I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"Babe you don't need to be scared of me, I would never hurt you I swear," he sounds like he is about to cry and a part of you wants to comfort him. "You threw wine in my face and said some really mean things," you point out.

"I didn't mean any of that, I promise. You know I've had a lot on my plate lately and I didn't mean to take it out on you." There is some part of you that desperately wants to believe him. "That's not an excuse," you go on. "I'm not an object for you to take out your frustration on. It's not going to work John."

There is a long silence before he speaks again and now his voice is laced with rage instead. "Then you can come get your fucking things right now." "John, please don't-" you start but he cuts you off.

"You fucking bitch, you lead me on for months and then you break up with me over the phone, because what? You think I’m gonna hit you or something?" "Yeah, maybe," you answer truthfully. "You're such a dumb bitch, I would never lay a hand on a woman I care about."

Both Steve and Bucky stir beside you. When you shoot them a glance they are both staring at the screen with murder in their eyes. "Calling me names won't change my mind, John," it hurts when he says them, like an actual stab in the heart and it brings out more tears.

Bucky leans over and taps the mute button. "There is no way you're going over there, we'll send Sam and Vis." You nod and unmute while John is raging on about how dumb and useless you are and how he wishes he'd never wasted his time on you. "I'm going to send some friends to pick up my things."

"Oh, so you won't even face me yourself?” his voice is unrecognizable now. “You know what? I'm glad for what I did, I'm not sorry anymore, you're obviously a fucking coward and not worth a second of my time." Every ounce of fight is gone from you, you're just tired and want it to be over. You don’t want to listen to the hurtful words anymore so you simply say "Goodbye John," and don't even wait for a response before hanging up. You drop the phone into the sheets and bury your face in your hands, your body jerking with sobs.

Steve and Bucky’s arms go around you but you hardly notice, everything is just excruciating pain, your heart smashed into a million pieces. Twenty-four hours ago you were happy with a man you thought you knew, and loved, but now everything is broken and you're not sure what you’re going to do next.

It takes a long time for you to stop crying and when it finally ends you're exhausted, again. The coffee Bucky brought has gone cold but Steve holds a glass of juice to your lips and makes you take a few sips before coaxing some yogurt into your mouth. "Steve is going to stay with you while I take care of a few things. If you need me, you tell him and I'll be right back," Bucky promises when he leaves the bed again, taking the tray with him out of the bedroom.

"Is he going to kill him?" you ask softly as you sink down under the covers. Steve puts his arm around your waist and pulls you into his chest until your face is squished against it. "No," his voice is soft. "Not without me." "Steve…" "Can you blame us, Sweets? John was lucky it was over the phone or else we would have beaten him into a pulp for saying those things."

"He never acted like that before," you whisper. "I'm just happy you got out before he put his hands on you," Steve whispers back. "If you had shown up with bruises yesterday I might have lost it." "I love you," you tell him and he kisses the top of your head. "I love you too, Sweets, and I know Bucky feels just the same." You hum and let the exhaustion take over.

They have switched when you wake the next time, you're in Bucky's arms and he is carding his fingers through your hair speaking quietly to you. "Wake up Sweets, it's time for dinner."

Even if you’ve slept right through lunch you shake your head and swing your leg over his hip, clinging to him. "Don't wanna get up," you whine. "If you eat dinner, we can watch a movie on the couch afterward." He knows just how to tempt you and you need something to try and take your mind off everything.

"Candy?" you pull back. Even if the light in the room is dim you can still see the blue in his eyes, and the crinkles at the corners when he smiles. "You know we keep stock of everything you like, there is always something sweet for our Sweets."

You hug him hard. "I love you Bucky, you know that right?" "I love you too, Sweets." He kisses the top of your head, much like Steve did earlier. "And I know Steve feels just the same." That makes you giggle "Steve said the same thing." "Well he is a smart man," he shrugs.

Bucky all but pulls you out of bed but he doesn't force you to change out of your pajamas. He leads you to the kitchen where Steve is plating the food and your stomach grumbles when you smell it. They have set the table with candles and it looks lovely but it also reminds you of your last candle-lit dinner. Bucky sees the look on your face turns you away from it and tilts your chin up with his fingertips, "It’s…” he begins, hesitating, trying to find the right words. “We want to replace every bad memory, but if it’s too much too soon we’ll throw it all out.”

The scary thing is that he is serious. If you said the word they would throw everything out, but you don't want that, you want a nice dinner with them and try to get past what happened. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t but you won’t know until you’ve tried. And if there is one thing you know for sure, it is that you are safe with them.

“It’s fine, I’ll try,” you promise with a smile before turning around to sit down at the table. Steve serves the food and Bucky pours you a glass of wine. After a few bites, Bucky brings up some stupid shit the three of you did a long time ago and through dinner, you reminisce about old times.

Since meeting John you haven't seen them as much because you learned early on that partners were weirded out or even jealous of what you had with them. Right now you can’t fathom why you would ever do that, because these two people are the best thing in your life.

You fold your napkin into your lap and look at them. "I'm sorry for, like, ghosting you the last few months," you swallow hard. "I've been a shitty friend but you always take care of me when I need you, and I’m so thankful for that. I promise I’ll do better."

"It's okay sweets," Steve smiles and reaches over the table to grasp your hand. Bucky takes the other and his thumb caresses your knuckles. "Don't apologize, there is no need." The lump in your throat is from love and not from sadness this time and you don't try to speak, just nod, squeezing their hands back.

Afterward, you cuddle up on the couch to watch a movie but ten minutes in you're already nodding off. When Steve and Bucky notice you're asleep they turn the TV off and Steve carries you up to Bucky's bedroom. "She has work tomorrow," Bucky whispers and pulls the cover up over your body. "Fuck, should we wake her?" Steve asks back. "No, let her sleep, she starts at nine so if we let her sleep til seven it should be fine."

Fortunately, the alarm on your phone goes off as usual but when you turn to snooze it, you instead roll into a warm chest. Steve grumbles and reaches for your phone, handing it to you before seizing you around the waist, and burying his face in your neck.

“Hey, I have to get up,” you mutter. It feels like your eyes are filled with sand and your head is pounding but you have to go to work nonetheless. “You don’t have to work,” he speaks into your skin and it makes a tingling feeling travel through you.

“Don’t be silly, let go of me,” you chuckle and detangle yourself. The other side of the bed is empty, Bucky already up. You drag yourself over to your room to shower before getting ready and eating breakfast. Steve insists on driving you to work and Bucky comes and sees you off with a long hug and a kiss on your hair. “I’ve put Clint and Peter to watch your apartment and Sam and Vis are going to be outside your work all day, Sweets.” “Thank you, Bucky.”

When Steve drops you off he points out the car. "If you see John or you for any other reason feel unsafe you can go to them right away, or call us,” he tucks a strand of hair in behind your ear. “Don’t hesitate. You mean everything to us and we want to keep you safe, Sweets,” You nod. “Thank you, Steve,” you whisper, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek before heading to work.

What you told yourself would only be a few days, turns into a few weeks and now it’s almost two months. Despite your initial refusal, you’re enjoying living with them again. A few times after the break-up, John tried to contact you and every time the phone started buzzing and your anxiety spiked you found one of them and they helped you through it.

You haven’t slept in your room once and neither has Steve, it's always the three of you sleeping in Bucky's bed. It could be because Bucky has an expensive bed that you sleep so soundly, but in the back of your head, you know it’s because their presence calms you.

If Bucky or Steve can't drive you to work, someone else does, your own car is still parked on the street by your apartment and you don’t have any desire to go get it. But you do miss some of your clothes, and toiletries, so maybe you should take it as a sign that you need to go back.

After getting home from work that day you walk up to their office, a little apprehensive. Both of them are leaning over the desk when you poke your head in, their cuffs rolled up, exposing their underarms. It’s enough to make your stomach flip, they look too good. Steve sees you first and a smile splits his face. “Hey Sweets, have a good day at work?”

Bucky turns and opens his arms towards you when you step into the room. His hug is warm and comforting and you answer Steve’s question with a yes, before taking a step back from them. "I know I said I was only going to stay a few days but it's been way more than that now, so I think I'll go back to my place after work tomorrow." You try to sound as neutral as possible, neither sad nor happy, just stating a fact.

"No," Bucky breathes, fists tightening at his sides. "I agree with Bucky, don't leave," Steve's voice is calm and his face doesn’t give much away but his eyes are betraying him, they’re too glossy, too wide, and too filled with fear to miss.

The other reason you need to go back home is the way they are treating you and touching you. It’s making your feelings run wild and you can't have that, you can’t risk losing them too. And if that wasn't enough they've invaded your dreams with their touches and words, making you wake up aching for them in a way that is totally inappropriate.

"I can't stay, you know that," you sigh. "No, I don't." Bucky is frustrated, staring at you. "I really fucking don't know why you can't stay. We love having you here and you seem to love being here. Just stay."

His mood is making you defensive, you don't want to explain that you're obviously catching feelings soon after getting out of something traumatic. You need to think, and every time you wake up drenched, tucked in between them you are seconds away from ruining everything by confessing or honestly just taking one of their hands and pushing it in between your legs, hoping they will help you get off.

"I need my own space, Bucky," you cross your arms and glare at him. "You have your own room," he states and takes a step closer. "That I don't use anyway," you reply and take a step back. "Because you don't want to!" His raised voice silences you not because you're scared but because he's right. Bucky isn’t stupid and he's not the type to sugarcoat things when he's upset.

Your heart is hammering. "No I don't want to," you confess with a breath. "But I need to." Then you turn to go but only get a step from the desk before Steve grabs your wrist. He spins you into his chest, Bucky coming up behind you, boxing you in between them. Bucky's head falls on your shoulder. "I can't let you go again, Sweets, I can't do it."

Your mind flashes back to the morning when you pretended to sleep and heard them talking. The breath in your chest hitches as you look up into Steve's blue-green eyes. “I’m with him, Sweets,” he says in a low voice and cups your cheek with his large hand. “You belong here, with us.”

Your mouth opens and you try to protest but it dies on your tongue and Steve takes the opportunity to continue. "We love you, more than anything, we want you to be ours, more than just our best friend. Live with us, be with us in every sense of the word. All three of us, together," his voice wavers at the end.

The words sink in slowly. Be with them. Be theirs. Stay. Your body is aching to say yes and your heart is about to beat its way out of your chest. “But…” “All I know is that I feel incomplete without you, like a part of my soul is somewhere else, and the only time I'm at peace is when I'm with you two. I can't keep living like a part of me is missing. So I'm asking you, please stay, please help us figure this out and be with us." Bucky’s arms wrap around your waist. "Every time I see you with someone else my heart gets ripped out of my chest and I've tried to be with other people, we both have, but in the end, they’re not you."

Their confessions break down your defenses as their words ring true. In all your relationships over the years, there's always been something missing but you've never been able to figure out what. There's been passion and there's been love but it's always lacking something and now you think you get it. It has lacked them and the deep connection you share through years and years of friendship. Feeling stupid about wanting to leave and thinking you weren’t ready to be with them makes tears well in your eyes. Whatever it is you three can figure it out, it may not be traditional but it beats being unhappy.

"Don't cry, Sweets." Steve runs his thumb over your cheek. You lean your head into his chest, nodding against it. "I'll stay," you sniffle. The arms around your waist tighten and Bucky speaks into your shoulder. "Really Sweets?" he sounds like he’s worried that maybe you're joking.

"Really Bucky," you promise, wrapping your arms around Steve and hugging him close. For a moment it’s just the three of you enveloped in your shared love but then Bucky rights himself and you look up at him over your shoulder, matching his silly smile.

He leans in like he is about to kiss you but he stops himself, his eyes searching yours for something, and it's scary. If you take the plunge everything will change, or maybe it won't, but it feels like an earthquake is rolling through your life, upsetting everything and if you let him kiss you it will be real. But that's what you want.

"Please?" you ask him and his whole face lights up before he closes the distance and presses his lips to yours. It could be described as fireworks, an erupting volcano, or maybe feeling the first rays of sunlight on your skin after years in darkness, but nothing will come close to the feeling of being kissed by Bucky.

It's a chaste kiss with just his lips moving carefully against yours. It's over quicker than you want but in his place is Steve, turning your head back towards him and descending on you. His fingers run through your hair and he opens your mouth to let his tongue play with yours, the feeling once again indescribable, it's just the feeling of right. Everything about it feels right.

Even if the kiss is slow when he pulls back your breathing is labored and you're clutching his shirt. "I-" you begin but can’t find any words. That kiss ignited something inside you, it's like you're seeing color for the first time, everything is clearer and sharper. What even was your life before?

"Are doing okay Sweets?" Bucky asks next to your ear and you nod in response. When his soft lips caress the side of your neck you whimper and lean your head to give him better access, he chuckles against your skin, nipping it and making you gasp. "I wanna eat you up, find out what you taste like everywhere."

It’s a badly kept secret that Bucky has a marking kink. You’ve seen his exes, you know he's possessive and likes to leave marks. You can't wait to have them on you so you whisper, "Mark me.”

Steve chuckles above you. "She knows you, Bucky," he says with a smile. "You too, Steve, please?" You’re almost begging, but not quite, just asking nicely. "You want me to give you a hickey?" he asks with a crooked smile but those eyes are too easy to read. He craves you. "Or a bruise, or a bite mark, something, anything," "Fuck…" His face changes to match his dark eyes. "You want everyone to know you belong to us, Sweets?" he asks with a hoarse voice and you feel the large bulge in his pants press against your stomach.

You nod, biting your lip. "Show me how you do it, Bucky.” They spin you around and Bucky grabs at the collar of your blouse, pulling harshly, sending the buttons flying over the office. “Hey-” you begin but he pulls the fabric aside exposing the juncture between your shoulder and neck. First, he sinks his teeth in, hard enough for you to hiss but not breaking the skin, then he closes his lips and sucks.

It's painful but the act in itself makes you throb. When he pulls back you release your breath but Steve is quick to pull the neckline on the other side and do the exact same thing. He is gentler but when he's done there is still a purple bruise on your skin. "Fuck me," you whimper against Bucky.

"Yes, Sweets, we will. Long and hard until you can't take it anymore. We're going to ruin you." Steve promises before he grabs you and lifts you up, spinning you so you can wrap your legs around him as he starts walking to the bedroom, Bucky right behind you. You reach your hand out towards him and he grabs it, kissing your palm and knuckles. "We're going to take care of you Sweets, you'll never want for anything," he promises with a wicked smirk.

Steve places you on the edge of the bed and stands up, looking down at you. Bucky comes up beside him, resting his forearm on Steve's shoulder. "Look at our sweets, can you believe it?" Bucky asks. Steve turns to him with a smile. "Yes." Then he places two fingers under Bucky's chin, turning his head before kissing him. It's heated, filthy and it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. You squeeze your legs together to alleviate some of the pressure you're feeling in your cunt. Their kiss shows that it's nothing new, they've obviously done it before and you're a little mad that they have withheld this from you.

When Steve starts pulling on Bucky's clothes you can't keep the moan from slipping out. They both break away and turn to you and you feel small in the best way possible. "Did you like that?" Bucky asks before leaning down and kissing you.

The knowledge that his tongue was just in Steve's mouth and is now sliding against yours makes you moan again. You start undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulls on your top. When you separate, he pulls it off and you’re left in just your bralette. Steve makes a sound in the back of his throat at the sight and starts taking off his own clothes.

Bucky kneels in front of you on the floor, unbuttoning your pants and pulling them off, while you stare at Steve as more and more skin is revealed. He holds your gaze the whole time and you bite your lip when he starts at his pants. His chest and forearms are huge, covered in tattoos but in no way hiding the muscle underneath. It makes your mouth water and your cunt clench.

Bucky starts kissing up your bare leg, beginning at your ankles and slowly working his way up your calve and the inside of your thigh. When you're still staring at Steve he nips your skin. "I know he's gorgeous but when I eat your pussy I want your eyes on me, Sweets." He tries to look offended but his pupils are blown wide with lust.

Just the thought of him between your legs makes a shiver run through you and your cunt impossibly wetter. Nodding at him you caress the side of his face and watch him, the closer he gets, the more you start to tremble with need. No one had ever made you feel so needy and horny.

Bucky kisses your cunt through your underwear, making you gasp. "Please Bucky, I need you." "I know, I can smell how fucking wet you are Sweets." He twists your panties out of the way. "Fuck, Steve, look at her, she's dripping."

Steve, in just his underwear now, slides his fingers gently through the mess, making you tremble and moan, before bringing the fingers to his mouth and holding your gaze as he licks them clean. Then Bucky's mouth is on you, his tongue licking from your core up to your clit.

"Fuck-fuck-fuck-" you cry and grab the sheets under you, bucking up into his touch. Steve chuckles and gets behind you on the bed. "He looks like he's in heaven, Sweets. He has wanted you for so long." You feel his fingers undo the clasp of your bra and then slide it off. His hands cup your tits a second later, making more sounds spill out of your mouth. His fingers rub, caress, and pull on your nipples while Bucky is hurdling you toward your climax.

"I'm- I'm gonna-" Your legs shake and you grab Steve's arm with one hand, the other going to Bucky's head, grabbing his short hair. Every muscle in your body tenses right before the coil snaps, making you scream out your release, riding Bucky's face and feeling the pleasure-filled waves travel through your body.

You slump against Steve's and he holds you. Bucky pulls back with a shit-eating grin, wiping his face with the back of his hand, saying "Fuck Sweets," before he stands up and starts taking off his clothes.

You already feel amazing, high off your orgasm but you want more and Steve's hard-on is pressing into your back. You turn around on the bed. "Move up," you tell him and his smirk is knowing but he does as you say and moves to sit against the headboard.

You rid yourself of your drenched panties before grabbing his boxers and pulling them off. "Eager Sweets?" he chuckles and fists his cock as soon as it's free. It's thick and long as him and you can't fucking wait. You bite your lip before asking "Condom?"

"I know we should but I want to feel you raw Sweets,” he confesses. “Are you on birth control?" "Sure, and I got tested the week after…" you trail off not wanting the bad memories to ruin the moment. Bucky's heat is suddenly behind you, grabbing your hair and forcing your head back to kiss you deeply. When he lets go he says, "Steve and I got tested like a week before you moved in and I've not even looked another person's way since then." Steve laughs "And I haven't fucked anyone either so get over here and ride my cock Sweets."

To say you scramble is an accurate description, quickly shuffling over to him and straddling his hips. You hold onto his shoulders as he swipes the head of his cock through your mess, holding it still for you to sink down on.

All three of you moan in unison as his dick disappears into your tight hot channel. The grip Steve has on your hips is almost bruising and the look on his face is painful. “F-fuck. Sweets. Damn.” Is all he gets out. You lean in, kissing his cheeks and chin and lips, and start to move, slowly, the feeling is amazing, he's filling you up to the brim perfectly.

"Feels so good," you stutter and then drop down hard. "I'm never watching porn again," Bucky says from behind you and you watch him over your shoulder, kneeling on the bed and jerking his cock. You whine in the back of your throat, you want him too, so you reach for him as you bounce on Steve's cock, making him spill the most delicious sounds.

Bucky shuffles over and you grab his dick in your hand, he's big enough that it doesn't fit all the way around. His hand lands on Steve's shoulder to steady himself and Steve reaches out to place a hand on his hip.

The sounds the three of you make fill the room. It's moans, groans, and whimpers, the sound of slapping skin and squelching wetness. Your clit is steadily rubbing against Steve, getting you closer and closer. Bucky is panting heavily, Steve is too.

"Sweets, I can feel you. Are you gonna come on my cock?" Steve is trying to sound unaffected and failing miserably, but he continues to spill filth that rushes you toward the edge. "When I've filled you up, Bucky is gonna fuck my cum right back into you, aren't you Buck?" "Fuck yes," he groans before leaning in and kissing you deeply. “I wanna see you come on his cock Sweets.”

"Next time I wanna feel both of you come in me at the same time," you whimper. "Sweets, you goddamn slut." Steve groans with a laugh and bucks up into you harder. "Tell us more! Please! I want to hear every filthy little thought hidden inside that mind."

You turn to look at Bucky. "I want both of you in every hole. I want you to use me like I'm a toy and worship me like a queen," you tell him, then turn to Steve. "Put my name on the house and celebrate it by fucking in every room, on every surface, show me all of your kinks, give me everything."

Steve's eyes are screwed shut and he's let go of Bucky to grab your hips, pulling you down onto his big cock. "Keep going," you urge him, your release just a few thrusts away. But he's too close and before you can get there he suddenly sits up to wrap his arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest, thrusting up hard, and comes with a loud moan of your name.

You feel wild, right on the edge of ecstasy but left dangling in mid-air. With pleading eyes and a whine you look at Bucky who smirks at you before pulling you away from Steve and laying you on your back. A second later he fills you up, the sound of his cock pushing through Steve's mess is as sweet as it's nasty.

"Please, Bucky, please," you beg. "Yeah I know, don't worry, not gonna blow my load early," he taunts over his shoulder at Steve who just gives him the finger. "Understand him though, you’re so tight and warm Sweets. Makes me a bit crazy. I just want to fill you up over and over again," he confesses.

"I need to-" you begin but he cuts you off. "Rub your clit for me. Come on my cock," he demands but you know something that is even better than your own fingers and you reach out your arm.

"Steve," you plead and he crawls over to you and lays down beside you, pushing his hand in between your bodies, finding your clit. You arch off the bed with his touch, hands clutching Bucky's arms as he rams into you. The dual sensation is amazing and with how close you were seconds ago the end approaches quickly. Your moans get louder the closer you get and both Bucky and Steve praise you the whole way through.

"You sound so fucking pretty."

"I can barely move you gripping me so tight."

"You're so good at taking cock, Sweets. First mine and now Bucky's, it's like you were made for us."

You nod at the last thing and the pressure in your body is breaking, making your muscles convulse, almost pushing Bucky out with how hard you're coming, screaming their names as you do.

"Fuck! Yes, Sweets!" Bucky’s laugh is a little manic as he works you through it. "I'm going to fill our sweet little cunt with more cum." His hips stutter against you before he groans out your name and collapses on top of you. You run your fingers over his sweaty back and kiss his cheek. Then you turn to Steve, smiling at him beside you. "He's heavy," you complain.

Both of them laugh and Bucky rolls off before they move until you're squeezed in between them, their cum running down your legs, making a mess on the bed. Fortunately, you have at least two other beds to sleep in.

For a few months, you're walking on air. In a throuple with your two best friends, amazing sex, luxury beyond what you could have ever imagined. They constantly spoil you and they've tried to convince you to quit your job since you don't need to work when you're with them.

Tonight you're in another fancy restaurant. Bucky is trying to feed you chocolate cake because it's romantic but you tell him over and over again that you can eat by yourself. Suddenly Steve stiffens beside you and since he isn't known to have tells, you immediately get worried and follow his gaze.

John is standing at the door with a pretty girl on his arm, talking to the waiter and then being shown to a table. Next to yours.

When your eyes meet he stops for a second and his date shoots confused looks between the two of you, before you nod and he nods back, then moves again and sits down.

Steve asks for the check and you're out of your seat and outside the restaurant in no time. Bucky holds your coat as you put it on and a moment later Steve comes out too. His eyes are black with hate and when you're finally in the car you realize that you can't live like this.

"I think-" you begin, swallowing then clearing your throat, "I think I'm going to need those lawyers."

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aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months ago

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Cowboy!141 x Noble's Daughter!Reader (My Version of the AU)

(How you meet them)

Synopsis: Being the daughter of a noble is a jarring task as you must be always able to keep up appearances, so what exactly happens when your family hires 4 men? Men who seem dangerous yet you know nothing about, all happening to be part of the same group of people. What happens if they take an interest in you? Someone unattainable, forbidden yet also undoubtedly tempting..

Hi lovelies! Lia here again, apologies for the delay and inactivity, I had exams, projects and the recent release of part one of Bridgerton season 3. Speaking of the series, this was inspired by that and RDR2 (none of the elements are historically accurate, I think?), I genuinely hope this does well because this account has not been doing well as of late. With my mutuals leaving Tumblr and some friends are currently ignoring me, I genuinely don't know what to do anymore. From what I know, @ghouljams was the first one who created content in the cowboy!CoD AU but mine is a lot different? So please don't kill me 😭

This will result in headcanons for the next few posts because my brain is attached to this AU so you will be seeing more Cowboy!Outlaw!141.

(Really FEM!Reader, maybe also Plus-size!(Chubby??)Reader?? I don't even know anymore)

More content: My CoD Masterlist

Bless your noble mother's heart, although your was seen as this very respectable and intellectual man of nobility, your mother had this heart of gold having no idea that these rugged men he has newly hired were outlaws, criminals.. murderers?

Yet your father did, something about him felt sinister, well all noble money comes from not so noble cause.

Although your mother wanted you to get to know and be familiar with the newest staff members who would do all the gnarly, energy consuming and physically challenging tasks, she did not want her daughter interacting with men who would be considered improper like seemingly mysterious men who happened to be from a far town looking for a living.

Well without your father's or mother's knowledge, that rule was thrown out the window the moment you saw one of them carrying over some of the crates that contain given by some men to your father for his services and connections, particularly drawn to the one who never seemed to take off the cloth on his face.

Something about the way he stared at you, not seeing the rest of his face, depriving you of clues as to how he felt upon seeing the only lady of the house. You gave him a warm smile, for a moment you thought you saw his lips through the mask perk up, before walking off to the lounging hall for your tutoring on language.

It was odd, you observed them from afar a lot, your personal garden was your sanctuary and you can't help but do so when they talked so loudly, no sign of inside voices.

They called each other names.. Price, Gaz, Soap and Ghost. The man you encountered was named Ghost? Surely it's some alias. Well that wasn't something you should fixate on anyway so you leave for your tasks.

You find yourself feeling a little out of it after your lessons, hoping that a little stroll through the stables behind your family's estate would either help the information sink in or keep it shun out of your mind. Either way you'd find yourself in tranquil, you heard a thud behind you and turn to find so called "Ghost" behind you.

He had dropped a crate, one filled with weapons and uncharacteristically hastily picked up all of them without paying much attention. Such an action caused him to unknowingly cut his finger on one of the blades that fell out of it's sheath.

Your eyes filled with concern as you rush over to take his hand in yours before he tried to brush off the cut and get back to his duties. You knew it was dumb to be worried over something so small that the grown man doesn't even flinch and yet there you were, practically cradling his hand in yours.

A white handkerchief that was embroidered with your favorite flowers by your own mother, something you held dear and kept pristine.. using it on his finger to keep the blood from further gushing and wipe off whatever of the red residue was left on his hand.

As the blood stopped to your relief, you brought his finger and spontaneously pressed a feather-like kiss on the wound. You were so used to doing that for your little cousins, nieces and nephews that it was just a force of habit, your face flushed the very moment you looked up to meet his gaze, what possessed you to do that?

You placed the handkerchief in his hand and composed yourself, you told him to keep it and to bring the wound to the physician to get some antiseptics before running off to god knows where.

A few days after that incident, you meet another one of them except..

You couldn't help but rush, you were late for this supposedly short promenade your family has spontaneously planned. Your favourite gloves are no where to be found and with the three sisters you have, you checked room to room, seeing who might've borrowed the lacey white fabric with the sewn in bows.

Without looking your body slams into a wall, is it a wall? You softly groan, your delicate fingers brushing on your forehead that felt like it would bruise later on. Your eyes remained closed for a few seconds as the impact caused you to feel shaken, light headed.

You open your eyes to one of the outlaws, you blink up as your vision adjusted a bit, his dark skin against the light from the window really did something..

"Are you hurt, my lady?" He asked, his deep voice was smooth and rich, almost velvety. He held you up from falling.

"N-no.. Thank you, uhh..."

"Kyle, her ladyship can call me Kyle. Although I hope it's not too informal to your status, my lady." You smiled at his words, certainly a respectful fellow despite him and his group's reputation.

You felt warmth on your sides, his palms against the fabric that separates his skin on yours, he was only being kind for steadying you after you almost fell from the earlier impact but his touch felt addicting, too much as it continued to linger.

"Kyle, it is then" You said softly, suddenly a bit more aware of your surroundings.

Fuck. He was sure he felt something just by hearing the way his name fell from your lips. Normally he'd give people, employers only and only his last name. He was so used to having been called by "Garrick", he had no idea his name would sound different, so sweet coming from a pretty maiden's lips.

He stutters for a moment, realizing that his hands are touching a lady inappropriately, something only someone she's married to would have the privilege of doing. He swiftly removed his hands from your waist and formally excused himself from your presence with the excuse of his duties.

The next time you met one of them was through your mother's ball, she was always the first to throw one to bless the upcoming season of hopes that you, your sisters and brothers shall wed soon.

You had no taste for it after having a lord step on your feet at least 20 times and not even bother to apologize with how high of a pedestal he puts himself in, you found yourself escaping through the back of your estate to the gazebo in the center of your beloved garden.

You took your tight, restricting shoes off and felt the grass on your feet as you walked toward the gazebo, now close enough to see that you weren't alone but you still continued, your feet against the cooling marble platform. You sigh as you prop yourself to sit on the stone railing next to the stranger who was currently taking a puff of his cigar.

You turned your head away, you were thrown into a fit of coughs from the strong scent of the smoke while you swatch some of it away. You tried not to heave for actual air to breathe while the man next to you chuckles, making you feel irritable.

"M'sorry love.." his gruff voice whispers which make you turn towards him, the man offering you a comforting smile.

"Shouldn't you be in there with your family, miss?" Price asked. To which you hum, "I wanted some "fresh air" and silence" you answered. Moments of silence have passed, nothing but the sound of wind that rattled the trees a bit and each other's breaths.

You look towards the light of windows of your home, the ballroom filled with laughter and talk of celebration. You sighed, knowing you must return as your parents would come looking for you, also not wanting for them to punish you for sticking around unchaperoned with their new hires.

He knew you were about to leave, it would be rude for a gentleman to leave a lady without help, hmm? He wasn't a gentleman though, an outlaw, one of the worst titles one can ever bestow a man. He was considered to be of low honor but who cares?

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, gently taking your leg in his huge hand using his thigh as leverage so he can gently slip on you shoes. For a moment you felt his forehead on your knee before he pulls away and offers you his hand..

You took it hesitantly as he helped you off the railing, you look up at him meeting his eyes. Something about them burned, making your stomach churn but not in a manner of discomfort.

You watched his back as he walked away, his footsteps on the cold marble the only thing to be heard as the noise died down..

The morning after, you've barely had enough sleep, was it the events of the previous night? Nevermind, at least you had a day or two for yourself after conducting a proposition to your parents. Free time was worth it for the sore feet you had to endure.

Not really in the mood to change into anything tight or itchy, you remain in your night clothes. Finally, some well deserved time alone, comfortable and flipping pages of a book was your type of thing.

Sure, socializing has it's benefits however nothing beats your time alone or so you thought you were alone..

A table and a few chairs were set up by the servants to your request at the gazebo, giving you the perfect view of the greenery that you have planted the seeds of.

You had your head comfortably leaned onto lounge as you continued reading. Buts something was just so distracting, a few minutes of the constant snipping and twigs breaking, you look up wanting to see who was there tending to the garden.

Your eyes widened a bit, it was improper for a lady to stare a man who has very less clothing. Nothing but his jeans, belt and hat keeping his face shielded from the heat is toned, muscular and tanned torso and arms exposed.

A little later, you hear a grunt coming from the man, Soap was it? You can't quite remember much from the night you eavesdropped on them. You heard his footsteps on the grass nearing the gazebo but you didn't bother to look up, not until..

"Ma'am? May I stay 'ere a moment? Afraid the heat is getting to me" You look up from your book and sit up to see the same man breathless. You nodded and watched as he sat on the stairs, hands on his knees as he caught his breath.

"Excuse me.." You said, loud enough to hear and catch his attention, he looks back from his position. You moved one of the chairs to face your lounge, "Please invite yourself here, I can only think of how uncomfortable the floor might be, especially when you are working at a weather like this one" Signaling him to take a seat on the chair you adjusted.

He gets up yet reluctantly makes himself comfortable on the seat, you pick a drinking glass on display from the silver tray and poured some of the cold lemonade into it, you place it down on the table and slide it to him, offering a warm smile. Your fingers on the base of the drinking glass slightly brushing against his as he takes it.

He thanks you for it and you both enjoyed the tranquil and peace.. yet you can't go back to your book, asking questions and being further interested by the man each minute passes.

The way he talked was something else, it was alluring, comforting and oddly lively, he's told you about his "past" and how he used to be a child.

"Was quite the troublemaker you see, though my family was poor and food was scarce, I found a way to feed the street animals I adore—"

You look at him, so invested on what he was about to say next, it was refreshing to have someone to converse with who isn't interrogating you and practically forcing their ideals of how many babies they want you to birth for them, practically wanting you to die for them.

"I used to steal bread from my neighbor, not a very nice man, selfish really. So I'd often sneak into his shack, leftovers, scraps and anything light enough for me to carry. I'd bring it to Lassie, my favorite stray dog. You remind me a lot of her Bonnie" He said.

"I remind you of a dog?" You weren't so sure if that's a compliment, then again he just called you "Bonnie", what exactly does that mean?

"Home, you remind me of home. Can't say I have felt this comfortable in years, friends and I are usually reserved yet you bring this side out of me, Bonnie. So what spell or witchcraft did you use?" He joked raising a brow at you, for a moment his attention falters as he looks down at the soft mounds of skin exposed on your chest.

"Eyes up here, Johnny."

You warned as you laugh at his question, you notice one of the servants coming out from the estate and into the garden, Johnny smiles and tips his hat to you to excuse himself so that he could get back to work.

Well this is interesting.. isn't it?

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @snowdjinnofpalestine @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo

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jo-speaks · 2 months ago

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good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up.

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved.

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation.

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago.

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.”

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed.

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened.

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen.

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone.

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation.

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really.

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight.

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about.

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling.

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted.

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV.

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through.

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.”

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side.

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips.

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.”

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?”

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4.

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking.

You didn’t need him.

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone.

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home.

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #vancouver canucks #qh43 #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x y/n

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deceitfuldevout · 11 months ago

Text

First and Last

Dark!Tom (The Party 2017) x ExWife!Reader

Word Count: +3,234

Warning(s): +18, Non con, ANGST, Domestic violence, Mentions of overdose/overdosing, Drug usage, Addiction, Forced drug usage, Heavy domestic violence, Forced breeding Accidental OD, Really long because I don't have a life.

Author's note(s): I wanted to post this before my trip. Idk if I want to make this into a 2 part series maybe if its good than ye 😃

You run into your soon-to-be ex-husband at a friend's party. He's determined to get a second chance. But some things never change.

You met Tom in college. Both of you were part of the same friend group and would see each other often. He was persistent in pursuing you. Eventually mustering up the courage to ask you out. You said yes because you fell for him first. But it was Tom who fell harder. He was your first love, first kiss, first everything. After a year of dating, he finally pops the question. Everything seemed to be going fine at first.

That was almost a decade ago. He's not the same man you fell in love with. Something inside him changed. There were times where you were unsure whether it was the drugs talking or how he truly felt. He would try to hide it but failed miserably. You can't remember how many times you've found his stash, which always resulted in an argument. You were sick of his excuses. It eventually got worse with his intake. He would arrive home half sober. You were sick of seeing him waste away like this. You remember finally deciding that enough was enough.

After catching him at home for the fifth time, you decide to take action into your own hands. In a fit of anger, you retrieve his hidden stash and flush it down the toilet. When Tom found out his reaction wasn't what you had predicted. Not at all. He dragged you to the bathroom and demanded to know where his supply went. It was the first time he'd ever laid his hands on you. Instead of apologizing for bringing them home, Tom held you in a chokehold until you told him where they were.

Never in your life would you imagine Tom of all people reacting in such a way. When you finally confess what had happened, he loses his temper. It terrified you how strong he became while under the influence. You were no match for his drug-fueled rage. Your wrist is still sore from how he held you down last week. There were bruises that were still healing for all the times before. But this one had been the worst punishment yet. He left you there on the bathroom floor, naked and sore. Tom hadn't bothered to look your way. He zips up his pants before leaving in search of his next 'fix'.

That wasn't the first time he put his hands on you, but it was the first time you had left him. You received a string of desperate phone calls, voicemails, text messages all from Tom. You returned home to find him on his knees with a bouquet in hand and tears in his eyes. He apologized and promised to be a better man for you. That was shortly lived. When you arrived home from a late shift, you caught Tom using it again. This time it was different, you found Tom overdosing. You lunged towards him, "Tom?! Tom!" cradling his head in your hands, holding him close. It was the first time you've caught him. A part of you feared this wouldn't be the last.

Tom had tried to make it up with sex, but you couldn't be around him anymore. You felt almost revolted how he didn't care. Having him around only reminds you of the pain. This time instead of throwing a fit, yelling, or crying. You simply packed all your things and left. What could you do with a man who refuses to change? Leave. You left for your mother's place, finally accepting that it wasn't your fault.

The divorce papers were mailed to him. For a while now, Tom knew there was something wrong with him. He was just too stubborn to admit it. You'd spoken with a lawyer and there was a court date issued. In a few months from now, you will no longer be referred to as husband and wife.

For the first time in years, you've finally let the feeling of guilt go. No longer were you going to let this define who you were. You weren't a failure as a wife. Because it was never your fault in the first place. Soon enough you were doing the things you loved again, even began to pick up a few new hobbies. That spark of joy began to return. You started dressing up in nicer clothes, going out, actually spending quality time with friends and family.

Sometimes there would be a moment when you'd feel for Tom and wonder what he'd be up to. But then again did you really want to know? It would usually be the same thing, him being higher than a kite. Still, you couldn't help but mourn at the loss of your marriage. When you were young and promised to love each other until your very last breath. You still loved Tom, but he loved other things more.

You were looking forward to your old college friend's New Year's party. A healthy dosage of socializing to get you out there again. You had the opportunity to catch up with everyone there. It felt as though no time had passed. You danced around, joined in some games, things were going well. But there was a lingering feeling that someone, somewhere was staring at you.

That's when you spot him, Tom, sitting quietly at the end of the room. Your breath hitches at the sight of him twiddling his thumbs. There's a part of you that regrets not filing a restraining order. Tom always had a habit of showing up unannounced. You weren't in the mood for whatever he had to say. So, you left his sight, down the hall, to the nearest restroom.

You sat on the counter, removing your heels for a moment. A groan escapes your lips as you rub both feet, knowing very well they would ache in the morning. Shit, you were really gonna feel that. You splash your face a few times, hoping that it would combat the summer heat. Completely unaware of the sound of the door opening. It was as if you knew who was behind you, turning around to find Tom leaning against the door. You gave him a glare, "Get out," you were in no mood for his emotional ambush. He ignores your request and calmly states, "I just want to talk to my wife,"

"We're not--"

"Legally, yes, we are," he corrects. Always so condescending. It was one of the things you couldn't stand. How he would belittle your intelligence. It was the little remarks he'd make to shut down any effort you gave. He made you feel unwanted. He was the one who decided to push you away first.

If only he could see past his own selfishness that you truly wanted to save this marriage. But in order to do so, he would need to admit that it was an ongoing problem. You didn't have to worry about a mistress, no. You had to worry everyday about finding him dead. You've caught him overdosing a few times. It eventually took a toll on you. To the point where you lost weight from the stress. Tom rakes his hand through his locks, "Of course you don't want to see me, nothing ever satisfies you," a snarky remark to try and get under your nerves.

With the amount of alcohol in your system, it worked, "Are you kidding me?" you scoff, "Don't you dare lie to me Thomas, I tried everything, everything to fix us, can you say the same?" you growl in his face. Maybe it was the liquid courage that gave you a whole new attitude. Whatever it is helped with confronting him. His reaction, however, was not what you expected.

He smothers you into a deep kiss, pulling you into his embrace. You try shoving at him in an attempt to catch breath. Finally breaking free from his grip. For a moment, he's seems visibly hurt. You scold, "What you wrong with you?!" it wasn't fair. After all the hurt you've been through, Tom still tries to insert himself into your life.

You deserved better. You try to shove him away. Instead, he shoves you against the wall, "Can't you see..." he presses his sweaty cheek against the crook of your neck, "You're my everything..." his voice sounding more desperate with each word. You scoff, "No, Tom, you can't do this..." tears began to brim, threatening to spill. His eyes are filled with worry, "No...now, baby please don't cry..." his expression is saddened but there are no tears. He kisses each cheek, ignoring your sniffling. Tom held you in place by the shoulders, "I couldn't stop thinking about you," it's true. You were his first love.

Tom had longed to see his wife again. To feel her, touch her, caress and worship every part of her. He wanted to make things right, truly. But she just got up and left him. Like he was trash. What made her so high and mighty? He's so sick of seeing you always playing the role of a saint. For once he wants to see you get downright nasty with him. His breathing became frantic, "Can't you see? I'm addicted to you," there's a mischievous look on his face that you were more than familiar with.

You place a cautious hand in front to create distance, "Tom, listen to me, you’re high right now, you're not in the right--" you were muffled by his hand, "No! No! Listen to me!" his voice booms. His sudden mood swing scares you. So much so that your nails dig into his wrist. He hisses in pain, "Stop it! Just stop!" he grits his teeth. When he releases his grip the first thing you do is make a run for it. But before you could even set foot out of the restroom you're pulled back by the hair. You fell on your back, hitting the marble floor.

It sends the air out of your lungs. That's when you start crying, shriveling up into a ball, begging for him to stop. This was how your arguments always ended. Tom crouches down, "Oh...baby I'm so sorry..." He grabs a towel, pushing it against the bottom of the door to ensure that it's soundproofed. He then pulls you into a hug, locking his arms around your waist. Tom rocks you in his embrace, "Please...please don't cry shh.." He doesn't want to see anymore tears spill. He's thankful for the music being loud enough to muffle your cries. He lifted you onto the counter.

You look down at the floor, refusing to look him in the eyes. Tom presses his forehead against yours. His eyelids flutter shut, "Let me make this right..." he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a small bag, "Here... this'll help with the nerves," he swipes his fingers on his tongue before dipping it in. He swirls it a few times, coating the digits with the white powder.

When he brings it to your mouth you turn away with disgust, smacking his hand off, "Get it the fuck away from me! You fucking tweaker!" you claw at him. He's hurt by your words. How could you? He really is trying to stop. It's harder than it looks. He's tried just about anything you could name to fix his marriage. Nothing, not a damn thing worked. Every time he'd come running back to that same euphoric feeling. When you left, he started using it again, more than ever.

If only he could get you to try it out, then maybe, you'd understand. He presses you against the counter, using his bodyweight to hold you in place. You sob, "Please...please Tommy...don't do this..." he grips both of your wrists, ignoring your pleas. He looks at you with a maddening look in his eyes. You knew he was out of it. There was always that nothingness behind his irises. To think that this man was once your devoted husband.

He muffles your cries with a clean hand. He has an idea for the other. Tom hisses, “M’gonna make you take it, make you feel really good...” he reaches in between your legs, pushing aside the lace. Tom brings the snow coated fingers to your folds. He bites his bottom lip, concentrating on finding your opening. He slowly starts to insert them, ignoring your cries and pleas for him to stop. Tom starts pumping his coated fingers in and out of your channel.

You let out a muffled scream under his palm. Stray tears falling down and landed on his wrist. He felt almost bad, but you'll understand soon enough where he's coming from. Just wait and see. You'll love it as much as he does. Fuck, every vein in his body felt like it was on fire. It's easier getting hard while using, too easy. His dick almost hurts form how hard it was. He spat a wad on the tip, coating it with a bit of snow before hovering it over your folds. He presses it against your opening.

A wide grin spreads on his face, "Sh...please...don't flinch sweetheart I just wanted to feel... can I feel my own wife's pussy?" He moans. A mewl escapes your lips. Tom chuckles, he knew you'd love it as much as he does. His hands grip your neck, he doesn't know how strong he's squeezing, not while he's using. It felt nice feeling you clench on his length. He’s on an adrenaline high right now. He’s not going to stop anytime soon.

He rapidly thrusts his hips in and out your channel, indulging in the feeling. Two of his most favorite things combined. Oh, how he’s missed you. Tom picks up his pace. He leans down to plant wet, sloppy kisses across your bare neck. He retreats his lips, groaning against your ear, “I promise you I'll make up for everything, I'll even give you a baby like you've always wanted...” He knows it’s the one thing you’ve always wanted to be. A mother.

Your eyes shoot wide open as you scream into his palm to stop. Tom pops a pill in his mouth. He swishes it around a few times before forcing your mouth to open. He removes his palm only for a moment, before shoving it inside. It's too much, too much...You felt like you were flying, no, falling? Your heart couldn't stop beating and every single last one of your limbs felt like jelly. A visible vein bulges on the corner of your temple. Only a faint gargle leaves your lips, "F-fuck...T-tom...please..” sniffling for him to stop.

He coos, “M'gonna give you a baby, ok? then we'll be a happy family..." He sighs in admiration. Fuck, you looked so beautiful. Always so compliant. Don’t worry, he’s going to make sure you’ll never get rid of him, “This was mine the day I put that ring on that finger..." He finishes with a roar, coating your insides with his spunk. Tom is almost satisfied, almost. He doesn’t want to waste a single drop. He carefully removes his cock from your channel, plugging you back up with his fingers.

Tom takes the small baggie. He coats it with your arousal. A deep moan escapes his lips, "Just hide it for me, yeah, can you do that love?" Two of his fingers are buried deep into your channel, he scissors them apart a few times, testing the waters. Then he starts to push it in. You were too buzzed to even fight him off.

His fingers have always caressed that spot you just couldn't quite reach. Tom sighs, “Beautiful...fucking beautiful...” words that he hasn't used in years. Tom throws his coat on the floor. He carefully places you on it, taking no note of the blank expression on your face. He hadn’t noticed your eyes rolling back. He pressed his head against the door to hear if anyone was lurking. If the coast was clear, he could leave.

He places a chaste kiss on your cheek before leaving, placing a tie on the doorknob to ensure no one would wander inside. Tom prepares his car for the both of you. If you were thinking of escaping him, think again. He would keep you hidden until you were surely pregnant. You’ll have a part of him with you forever. He returns to the house with a pep in his step, opening the door to find you still lying on the ground.

That’s when Tom finally notices the faint frothing on the corners of your mouth. He crouches down, “No...” he should’ve seen this coming. You weren’t used to any kind of drug. You’ve never smoked a day in your life. Tom pulls you into his arms, “No no no no...no please...” he shook your unconscious form, “Please! Stay with me!” he shook harder, “Please! Fuck!” Finally breaking down. Tom couldn’t imagine spending the rest of his life without you. For it to actually come true was his biggest nightmare, “Please! Don’t leave me!” He rocks both of you back and forth.

Tom tries his best to control his breathing, reaching into his pocket. He calls the one person he knows would help, "Lenn...I'm in deep shit," he chokes. Tom prays that his brother can make it on time. For years now, Lenny had been the one covering up for his little brother. He could hear Tom on the other end of the phone, “She--she’s not waking up...” That’s when Lenny races out his office in search of his twin, "Tom, listen to me, where are you?"

Whatever shit his little brother has gotten into this time, he better hope it doesn’t ruin his record. Lenny hadn't spent years in law enforcement just to lose it all in one day. If word got out that the local detective’s own brother was a tweaker, he’d have to kiss that promotion goodbye. However, Lenny isn’t going to let him get away so easily. Unlike Tom, his brother is colder, more calculated than emotional. He's always surpassed him in every way possible. Well, almost. Lenny hates to admit it, but Tom had the one thing he finally beat him at, you.

You were the color added to his life. Without you his world was just...black and white.

#tom the party #Tom (the party 2017)#tom the party 2017 #Tom the Party movie #the party 2017 #Tom (the party) x reader #reader #reader insert #dark!fanfic #dark!fic #dark fanfiction #dark fanfic #fem!reader #dark!fanfiction #dark fic #my work #my works

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sweetstars-posts · 6 months ago

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SKINNY,

M. STURNIOLO x FEM!SINGER!READER

(if you don't want to be a singer, it could be anything in the public eye, it’s only mentioned a little!!)

WARNINGS — mentions of eating disorders, depression, anxiety, ALSO pet names (bc apparently that triggers ppl or smth).

a/n — this is a deep story based on billie eilish’s new song, skinny. as someone who faces troubles with eating, i wanted to make this for me and for those who need it <3

word count — 1.5k

(not proofread)

The rain is hitting the glass of my bay window as you stare helplessly out of it. The window opened a crack; the smell of fresh rain wafting into your room.

Your eyes are dull and lifeless — like you’re waiting for something that won't ever arrive. There's an aching feeling in your stomach, one that isn’t just nerves.

Your body ached as you haven’t moved from the soft plush cushions of the bay window for a couple hours.

Nothing in life felt appealing right now. The constant bodyshamming from the public eye got you back into a seemingly never-ending spiral.

People only seem to like you if you’re skinny. Eating was always a struggle, but now it almost feels like a game. Competing with yourself over and over again for trying to reach a certain weight goal that you won’t realistically achieve.

Everyone keeps saying you’re happier now. But are you? No. Complete sadness overtook you, but it was okay, because now you’re skinny.

But you also felt guilty.

You haven’t spoken to your boyfriend Matt in a couple days. You’ve been dating for 3 years and he knows every single thing about you. You still don’t have the energy to get up and try to find your phone which is nowhere to be found at the moment.

But knowing Matt, he probably knows what’s happening again. This seems to always happen. It’s like a record player that keeps repeating and repeating until the vinyl slowly starts to scratch and warp.

Your eyes falter slightly but they never seem to fully close. It’s like they can’t.

Your mind is racing 20 miles per hour but you can’t seem to comprehend a single word going through your brain.

The phone rings, the sound coming from somewhere in the mess of sheets on your bed.

A little while has passed and your phone still hasn't stopped. The obnoxious ringing made you even more aggravated. Yet somehow you felt stuck, like you couldn’t move to get your phone.

The sound absorbed into a dull hum from all the thoughts racing through your head.

You felt numb and lifeless. Like you were viewing yourself in a VR headset.

Time shaped into nothingness as your bedroom door creaked open. Your boyfriend, Matt’s, head peeks through the door.

His eyes soften as he sees your fragile figure on the soft cushions.

He closes the door behind him as he walks into the room. He makes a mental note to clean your room for you later. As he nears you, he sits on the floor, in front of the bay window.

His soft hands, grab your hands lightly, “I got you, it’s okay,” he finally breaks the silence.

Short jagged breath’s release your mouth, as you finally move your eyes away from outside, to him. He slowly moves to hold your head between his hands.

Tears slowly start to prick your eyes, yet you still don’t look away from him. Tears flow and flow, you have no control. Strangled breaths release, as you struggle to catch air.

“Hey, hey, I got you,” Matt’s fingers brush your tears away, his cold rings sending a series of chills down your spine.

Matt brought you into a warm embrace, lowering you down from on top of the seat, to his lap. He cradled you as if you were a broken fragile doll.

He pressed kisses towards your head, letting you release all those pent up emotions.

Neither of you knew how much time had passed, nor did either of you care.

Your breath’s evened out, and your tears died down. And Matt was still there by your side.

“Do you wanna talk?…” Matt questioned after a while.

“I’m just….tired” Your small tired voice let out.

Matt kissed your nose lightly before slowly standing up, pulling you up with him. He made his way to the bathroom connected to your room.

Upon setting you on the counter, he turns on the bath, letting it run for a little. He got everything ready — your clothes, a brush, and got all the small essentials, as you got in the tub.

He washed your hair, lathering the shampoo lightly. He then grabbed your brush and slowly brushed through the large matted knots.

“How about…after this we go back to mine? We can watch Inside Out because I know how much you love that movie,” His offer makes you smile, “And then we can work our way from there, how does that sound?”

You nod in response, too exhausted to speak.

After finishing up, Matt slowly helped you into one of his large sweaters and some pajama pants. Matt started to grab your phone and small things you would need to stay over (although most of your things are already at the triplets house).

“You ready, baby?” Matt extends his hand out towards you.

You grab his hand with a little small smile. Whatever joy you had in you was put towards Matt right now.

Matt led you to his car, opening the passenger seat. You could tell Chris sat there last. The seat was reclined and the seat was altogether far. You smiled at the way Chris left it.

“This kid doesn’t know how to fix his seat, I swear” Matt complained, as he helped you fix the seat.

Matt soon got into the driver side soon after closing your door.

“Where too?” Matt asked gently.

You looked at him in confusion. Weren’t you going to his house?

“C’mon, baby, we’re going somewhere to eat. Even if it’s something small, just… get something in your system.” Matt rubbed his hand against your knee.

The thought of food makes you want to throw up on the spot. You hated that he knew, but you loved that he cared.

“Nowhere..” You mumble quietly, head against the window.

You didn’t want to make this harder on Matt. But the genuine guilt fills you by just thinking about laying a finger on food.

“Sweetie, you need something.” Matt started the car, but ended up driving towards his house, “When we get home, you can have some toast. Even one slice, okay?”

You silently nod.

Matt pulled into the garage. As you and Matt make it inside, you can already hear Chris and Nick yapping about some movie they are watching in the living room.

As much of a bad mood you could be in, those triplets will always put a smile on your face.

Matt’s hand rests on the lower section of your back, gently guiding you through the basement. The two of you slowly walk up the stairs.

Chris and Nicks heads snapped towards the stairs as they heard footsteps, obviously Matt had told them.

Nick came running up to you guys first. He pulled you into a light hug, holding the back of your head with his hand, rocking you ever so slightly.

He pulled away, his hands resting on your face, “I’m so glad you’re okay, kid.”

Chris pushed Nick out of the way, “HEY! My turn”

Chris pulled you into a bone crushing hug, way more strong than Nicks. You smiled slightly into his shoulder.

“We were all so scared,” Chris whispered quietly.

As you guys pulled away, Matt grabbed your hand again, walking you towards his room, but not before bidding a small bye to Nick and Chris.

Matt closed the door behind him, as you went to sit on your designated side of his bed.

“I’ll be right back okay?” Matt kissed your head gently, before walking out of the door.

Matt had started to make a small piece of toast. Knowing you won't want to eat the other half, he put it on a plate for Chris to eat later.

Matt walked the short trip to his room, pulling the door open.

“Here, love” Matt put the plate on your lap.

You slowly grabbed at the piece of toast. Guilt swarmed you like a bunch of bees. Instead of taking a bite, you just stayed there.

Matt was now seated on his side, “It’s okay, Baby, it’s fine,” He rubbed your arm encouragingly.

Slowly but surely, you ate the piece of toast. Matt put on “Modern Family” while you ate. He never pushed you to eat faster, he was comforting and only wanted you to be comfortable.

“Good job!!” Matt’s large smile was contagious, it made you smile too.

As some time passed, you guys just stayed in each other’s presence. Not many words were said, but it was a comforting silence that everyone needs in their lives.

You and Matt were all cuddled up, your head resting on his chest. His hand rubbing your back gently.

His soft touch and actions, that lured you into a soft slumber.

“Goodnight, my love” Matt kissed the top of your head, himself feeling awfully tired.

At the end of the day, all you needed was a loving soul to guide you through your troubles. And Matt was that person. He was the light in your dark cave.

#spotify #chris sturniolo #fanfic #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fluff #video post #y/n #youtube #billie eilish #hit me hard and soft #the sturniolo triplets #angst #struggle

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atlantis-is-burning · 3 months ago

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Dead Boy Detectives Cancelation

So in light of the heartbreaking news of Dead Boy Detectives getting canceled, I decided to write a letter to @netflix It's the first time I've ever felt compelled to reach out to a major company regarding their services but I wanted them to know how much the show means to us as fans and what they're taking away from us by canceling it.

For me, the show was a literal life-saver. Without going into too much detail, I was in a very dark place prior to its release and it was the only thing that helped me through it. That and meeting all of you =)

I don't know what impact it will have, if any, but if you would like to write a letter to Netflix as well letting them know what the show meant to you, I would definitely do so. Our community may be small compared to other fandoms but we are passionate and devoted to this show and they deserve to hear from us.

I've attached the letter below the cut for anyone who would like to read it and believe me, I'm not trying to medal in the tragedy Olympics with the intro, it's just a fact of what happened.

Maybe the show helped you in ways you couldn't imagine. Maybe it made you feel better about yourself or something that occurred in the past. Maybe it was just a fun comfort show for you that you really enjoyed. Whatever the reason, this show brought out the best in people and made the world feel just a little bit kinder for a while and I will never forgive Netflix for taking that away.

To whom it may concern,

On April 29th, I sat down and watched the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives.

I had heard good things about the show since its release a few days earlier, that it was fun and campy and easy to watch, but for me I was hoping it would be a distraction. A very close friend of mine passed away without warning on December 30th; she was just there one day and gone the next. The first half of the year was spent helping her family get her affairs in order while trying to process our shared grief and figure out how we could move on without her.

I didn’t begin to feel like myself again until late March and by then it was only a fraction of who I had been before her passing. So when I sat down and pulled up the first episode of the Dead Boy Detectives, the only goal I had in mind was to pass a few hours watching a silly supernatural mystery show and think about something other than this sense of loss and imbalance that had settled over me.

It was the first time I smiled in nearly three weeks and it was the first time I laughed since December.

I watched the entire series, start to finish, in one night. Then I went back and watched it again the next day. And again a few days later. And for the first time since her passing, I felt like my friend was still there somehow, like we were watching it together. It was exactly the kind of show she would have loved when she was alive, flamboyant and silly with a touch of romance and mystery, so on my fourth rewatch of it, I sat on my couch with a picture of the two of us cradled in my lap, watching a show I know she would have enjoyed and feeling just the tiniest bit of my grief fade.

It was through the Dead Boy Detectives that I found a community online, a group of people who loved the show just as much as I did. We traded theories and ideas about the episodes, we excitedly welcomed new members who had just finished it and encouraged others to watch it in the meantime. We set up forums and threads on Reddit, we messaged each other, we embraced this silly, quirky show so much that it became a safe haven for a lot of us, it became a comfort series. We saw ourselves in this show and these characters and for many of us it gave us a sense of fellowship and belonging in a world where that feels more rare by the day.

And then it got canceled and for many of us, it felt like a slap in the face for the fans.

While I don’t claim to know the metrics on which a show’s success and renewal odds are based or what formula is used to determine ratings, I do know you didn’t see the fandom we created for ourselves because of this show.

There are artists who make the most breathtaking art pieces you’ve ever seen, writers who bring you to tears with their works, and creators who painstakingly and lovingly created playlists and mood boards for each of the characters, matching them with songs and snippets of poetry that fit so perfectly it felt like it was made for them. There are fans who cosplay so well it looks like they borrowed the costumes directly from the production team and some who make jewelry and charms and trinkets that sell out almost before they complete them.

We engaged with the stars as well, wanting them to know how much we loved the show and these characters and how grateful we were to have watched them. We set up Q&As and asked them questions through Cameo, all the while thanking them for their work in bringing these characters to life. This show meant so much to us and we wanted them to know just what an impact they had had on more people than they ever could have imagined.

We were well aware of Netflix’s reputation of canceling shows based on poor viewership so we went in and organized weekly watch parties in an effort to increase the number of new viewers. We promoted it on Facebook and Twitter and Instagram, creators made videos for it on TikTok, and we created an entirely new tag on social media to bring more attention to this show we all loved so much.

Early on, there were several comments from people who said they were hesitant to even watch it; they had been burned before and didn’t want to get deeply involved with a new show that would turn into yet another “one season wonder.” We did our best to reassure them and convince them that this time it would be different; it wouldn’t be like all the shows that had been cut down before it could ever really develop. Since it was tied in with DC and The Sandman Universe, we promised them that maybe this time we could save it, maybe this time it would be enough.

And it was still canceled.

On Friday, August 30th, ten minutes after the news broke that Dead Boy Detectives had been canceled, I canceled my Netflix subscription. Netflix was the first streaming service I ever signed up for and today it is the only streaming service I have ever canceled. And, after watching the fallout in our little online community, watching the actual grief people were experiencing because of the cancellation, and scrolling through pages upon pages of outraged fans who swore they would never watch another program on Netflix and vowed to cancel their subscription that day, I can see that my decision was justified.

You have no idea the impact this show had on its viewers and you have no idea the impact you had when you took it away. We had people admit that the show helped them come to terms with their sexuality, helped them process deep-seated trauma, helped them love and accept themselves for who they were. We knew the Dead Boy Detectives would never be a runaway hit like Stranger Things or Bridgerton but we hoped and prayed that it would stick around just a little while longer, that we could enjoy these characters and their stories for even one more season before they were gone for good.

For you it may have been just a silly little ghost show that was little more than a blip on the radar but for a lot of us it was so much more than that, it meant so much more than that.

I am under no illusions that this email will make a difference or that it will bring the show back from cancellation but I wanted you to know what an incredible and amazingly talented fandom you are leaving behind in its wake. These are people who put their heart and soul into the art they create and the words they put on paper and all we wanted was a chance to see that continue.

We are tired of being drawn into a program and falling in love with the characters with no guarantee that our viewership and involvement actually means anything. We are tired of begging for complex characters and the representation we crave in media only to have the rug jerked out from under us once we finally get it. We are tired of hoping and praying and campaigning to save a show that should easily be renewed for several seasons or, at the very least, a season two.

We are tired of feeling like we’re being taken advantage of as fans, that the passion and excitement we have toward these shows and their stars, the kind of involvement you claim to want, is dismissed with little regard toward the fans of the show itself.

We are your audience and we are tired.

We will continue to love and cherish this show and these characters, without your involvement, and give them a much longer life than they ever had on your platform. This show, the cast and crew, and the fans deserve better than what you gave them and I hope you understand the tremendous amount of talent and passion you’re throwing away in your fan base.

With regards,

-M

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives season 2 #renew dead boy detectives #save dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 years ago

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My You-niverse: Poe Dameron

Fandom: Oscar Isaac

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader, throughout the series: Marc Spector x F!Reader, Steven Grant x F!Reader

Summary: You and America get stuck portal jumping until you reach your universe again. In the meantime, you meet various versions of your husband.

A/N: one more chapter after this! eek!

Series Masterlist

You gasp as your eyes shoot open. You sit up and you're in the medbay.

"Hey, honey, it's okay. It's okay, relax." you turn to the voice and see...

"Poe?"

He smiles, "Yeah, that's me, baby. You okay?" he sits at the edge of the bed you're in, "You scared me."

"What happened?" you ask him, brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm not sure. I brought you your afternoon caf like usual. We were just chatting and then you fainted. You hit your head on the console on the way down. Scared the fodder outta me."

You hiss in pain as your head begins to throb. Suddenly, you're getting flashes. Different versions of Poe-no. Not Poe. Someone...someone else. You see a necklace and a wedding ring.

The medbay opens and in walks Leia.

You straighten up, "General Organa."

She makes her way to you with a soft smile, "Glad to see you're awake. How are you?"

"My head still hurts. I'm-I'm getting these weird visions. I don't know what's going on," confusion and fear is laced in your tone.

The older woman sighs, "Well, oddly enough, when you fainted, some unexpected visitors appeared on base. They've been asking for you and one of them looks like your flyboy," she points to Poe.

You look at Poe and he nods, "Yeah, it-it's weird. He's me, but not me. Said he's from some other universe and they've been looking for you for some time now. They want to bring you back with them."

The throbbing sensation continues. You wince and close your eyes for a moment. Flashes again. You see a certificate...a wedding certificate. There's your name and another...

"Sweetheart?" Poe takes hold of your hand, the other on your shoulder to steady you.

"Marc."

Poe is taken back, "Huh?"

"His name is Marc, right? Marc Spector?"

"Yeah. I-Wait. Is this real? Are you actually from wherever or whatever universe he's from?"

"Yes. No. I think? I don't know," you pull your hand away from Poe's and cradle your head, "It hurts so bad. I don't know what to do." You look up at Leia with tears in your eyes, "Please, help me."

She nods, "I'll bring them here."

Poe didn't like that one bit, "What?! No! You're not bringing them here!"

"They seem to be the only people who knows what's going on, Poe," she tries to reason with him.

He shakes his head, "They're going to take her away! I just got her back!"

Leia puts a reassuring hand on Poe's shoulder, "We'll make sure that doesn't happen. But look at her, Poe. She's in pain. That Doctor Weird guy could help her. We need to take this chance."

Poe looks back at you and you're still cradling your head and you've begun mumbling things he couldn't quite hear. He sighs, "Fine."

___________________________

America watches Marc pace back and forth. She and Stephen has both decided to sit down and wait for someone to come back to get them. Stephen is...meditating? She doesn't really know, but all she knows is that Marc's pacing is starting to irritate her.

"Dude, just sit down, alright? I'm sure Y/N's fine."

"We were so close. She was right there and then she ouched the necklace," he stops the pacing to face Stephen, "Why did that happen anyway?"

Stephens eyes open and he responds, "I'm not sure."

Marc rolled his eyes, "For being this almighty sorcerer, you sure don't know a lot about all this, do ya?"

"The multiverse is very complicated. There's a lot that we don't understand, masters of the mystics arts included," he floats up onto his feet, "At least we're in the same universe as Y/N."

"I hope she's okay," America says with worry, "That blast was strong, like, stronger than the one's I've done."

"Strange, can't you magic your way out of here?"

"Yes, but that could put Y/N at risk. We don't know what these people are capable of so it's best we remain here until someone comes to see us again."

Suddenly, the doors slide open and Leia walks in, eyes staring directly at Stephen, "Y/N needs your help."

Marc is suddenly chest to chest to Leia, "Where is she? Huh?! What did you do to her?!" America pulls him back with a sorry expression on her face.

Leia chuckles, "You look like Poe, you sound like Poe, you even have his temper. Interesting."

Stephen walks forward, "What's wrong with Y/N?"

_____________________

Poe is laying on the bed, holding your curled up form. His cheek is resting on your head. You're still mumbling but he's catching a few things, "Marc", "Nathan", "Leto", "Bud". Names, he thinks. You name off more and then you repeat them, along with other things he can't really hear.

The doors to the medbay open again and Leia enters with Stephen, America, and Marc.

Marc frowns at the sight before him, "Get your hands off my wife."

Stephen shoots him a glare and Marc huffs, moving close to your bed, but still a distance away.

"Y/N?" Stephen says your name cautiously.

You slowly raise your head and you look at him, "Stephen?"

"Yes. That's me, do you know who they are?" He points to Marc and America.

"America and Marc. Marc's my husband. I'm-I'm from your world?"

"Our universe," Stephen corrects you.

"I don't understand," you shake your head.

Stephen sighs, "It's complicated, but we need to take you back with us."

"Like hell you are!" Poe retorts, wrapping his arm around you tighter.

Stephen rolls his eyes, "Listen, she can't stay here. This isn't her universe. The longer she's away, the worse she'll feel. She needs to get back and we're taking her."

"Listen, here, I've spent a long time without Y/N by my side. I just got her back. There's no way I'm letting you-" Stephen threw a blast of magic at Poe and he fell back onto the bed. He was completely knocked out.

"Poe!" you cried out.

"He'll be fine. Just made him sleep for a bit." Stephen says, making Marc snort.

"Serves him right," Marc mutters, arms crossed over his chest.

Stephen turns to Leia, "You must understand, for Y/N's sake, we need to take her back home with us."

"And when you do, what happens here?"

"Best case scenario, this all gets back to how everything was. You don't remember a thing or us. Worst case scenario, this Y/N never comes back."

Leia sighs and nods, "Y/N, I care about her a lot. She's like a daughter to me and all a mother ever wants is her child to be safe and happy."

"So you'll let us take her with no problem?" Marc asks hopefully.

"I will."

Marc immediately rushes to you, helping you out of the bed, "Let's go home, baby."

"Wait," you turn back to the unconscious Poe and place a kiss to his lips, "Good bye. I-I know your bond with this Y/N is strong. Continue to love her and keep her safe," you whisper, hoping he'll hear you in his slumber.

Stephen gives a nod of thanks to Leia and then looks at America, "Go ahead."

She widens her stance, holds up her fists, and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath and when she opens them, they're a bright white. She punches forward and a bright white star shaped portal appears.

Marc, your hand in his, gives you a little tug, "Come on, baby." You let him pull you towards the portal, your other hand shielding your eyes from the bright light. When you walk through, you land in the Sanctum Sanctorum. You turn to see America and then Stephen walk through. The portal immediately closes behind them.

Your head is suddenly pounding and you stagger into Marc.

"Y/N? What's wrong?"

Your eyes flutter shut and you feel yourself falling, the last thing you hear is Marc calling your name.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #au #marvel #marvel au #f!reader #female!reader #lanis writing

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multi-fandom-simp · 1 year ago

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My soul, my heart, my fault

Part 1/3

Jacearys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader (platonic, sisterly), Lucerys Velaryon x Velaryon!Reader(Platonic, sisterly), Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader(mentioned throughout)

-Reader is Laenor's legitimate child in both past and present parts of this fic.-

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim any of them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: What's dead, is supposed to stay dead. However, the fates decide to make an exception in the case of your younger sibling's unjust deaths. You, who lived through the dance of the dragons, are brought back for the soul purpose of watching them grow again...or perhaps it was die again, you couldn't quite remember. (This will be a three part series)

Side Note: The areas in italics are memories, or moments of the past.

❗TW❗: Mentions of character death and actual character death, murder, angst, blood, incest?(I mean reader was Aemond's niece in past mentions), angst

(A/N: Hello! This is the first HOTD fic I've posted where the reader has a set house and set parent, but nonetheless I am not forcing you to imagine those specifics as their appearance. The reader's legitimate father in this story is Laenor. Simply because I feel like I don't see enough stories/fics with a true Velaryon reader. That being said, if you have any other fic Recs or even requests that involve a Velaryon reader, please send them my way👀. I've also thought about making a series involving a pair of Velaryon twins, so I'd love to know if anyone would be interested in that. Aside from my rambles, I tagged this as both Velaryon reader and just reader so that people may read it if they please. As always, I love to hear your thoughts and see your reactions, enjoy!)

Word Count: 3,924

“Kepus” Your small voice echoed overtop the waves that surrounded your father.

Laenor, who had been previously focused on the sea turned at your call,“ Yes, Tala”

You stumbled through the water until you were able to cling to his side,“ Why do they whisper about Jace and Luke?”

“ Because your brothers are different” Your father explained softly. His hand swept lovingly over the back of your head as you gazed up at him.

“ How so?”

His hands came down to cradle your face,“ It matters not. What matters, is that they are still your brothers. You must not let the whispers get between you and them.”

“ Nothing could ever take me from them, Kepa, I promise” Your tone was fierce, just like the blood that ran through your veins. Laenor smiled and squatted to your level, paying no mind to the water that soaked his clothes. He seemed to study you for a second as if he was committing the moment to memory.

Finally, he took a breath to speak,“ That’s good because you must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.”

“ I can no-” Your father was quick to spot your hesitancy. The hands that once held your face now held your hands. While his features remained soft, fear was evident in his eyes.

“ -You must have no doubts. Doubts lead to death, and fate is already not on your side. Heed my words, Tala, history will repeat itself,” Whether or not he was referring to him and Laena or you and the boys, you’ll never know. What you did know was that history indeed would repeat itself.

In 129 AC, you watched your brother Lucerys Velaryon die, and in 2006 you welcomed him as he was born again as your cousin. Three-year-old you was immensely confused on why these people kept referring to him as your cousin, but as you got older you came to the realization that no one else remembered who they were and that things were different. Whilst Laenor Velayron remained your father, Rhaenyra Targaryen was not your mother. In all honesty, you were not sure who your mother was. One thing was for certain though, your brothers had been taken from you. They now grew up in a different house with no memories of all you did for them eons ago. It was as if fate itself had placed a curse on you. Still, you weren’t one to let the gods dictate your life. Once your eleventh birthday came around, you begged Nyra to let you babysit the two youngest boys. She agreed without hesitation and suddenly you were back to seeing the boys almost every other day rather than in the summers. You thought you had outsmarted time and fate themselves. Six years went by and you had managed to watch the boys grow without problems. Well aside from the fact that your father and Viserys had agreed that you and Aemond would be together for the sake of both the Velaryon and Targaryen dynasties. That was six months ago, and everything had started to decline since then. Your father had mysteriously vanished, Rhaenyra’s husband Harwin had died, and tensions between the families were at an all-time high. It wasn’t Aemond’s fault per se, he was a great partner, but you knew how this went. In the end, you would be torn between his family and your own. More specifically between your brothers and him. The mere thought of it all happening again sent your stomach into knots. If only there were a way to prevent everything, prevent time from repeating itself. Maybe then you could save your brother-

" Hellooo, are you there? Hey-" Your thoughts vanished as Jace came into view. Were you having a nightmare again? No, surely not in the middle of the day, not while the boys were here.

The realization of your whereabouts sat you upright, forcing your eyes to the couch where you had last left the youngest boys, who still sat there much to your relief,"-Shit, sorry! Did I space off again?"

"You looked like you were asleep with your eyes open, to be honest," Jace snorted, his hair was wet and a gym bag hung from his shoulder, " Rough night?"

His question was answered with a groan as you laid your cheek against the cool countertop, "I’ll take that as a yes?"

"Every night is a rough night when you have nightmares like mine" You mumble between the space in your arms, “Do you ever have weird dreams, Jace?”

Jace sat beside you, mirroring the position you had slumped into. You turned your face towards him as he spoke, "I had a dream once where I was in archery club...but I was naked, like bare as can be-"

"-You can not be serious"

"Oh but I am, and my grandfather's creepy friend Otto was the teacher. It was definitely weird, but I didn't lose sleep over it" Jace shrugged.

" Why are you guys talking like that?" Both you and Jace lift your heads to face Luke. The curly-haired boy stood on the other side of the kitchen island with his eyebrows raised.

You shrugged, “Why are you not talking like this?”

“ Because I’m a normal human being?” He questioned sarcastically, “ anyways, while I have the attention-”

“You always have the attention” Jace scoffs.

You nod in agreement,“ Mhm, it’s because he’s the favorite.”

“ Can I talk or..” Luke stands there staring at the two of you patiently, much like his mother would. Actually, it reminds you of the first time Nyra caught you sneaking the boys into the kitchens during the hour of the owl.

“You must be very quiet. Some say the kitchen maids have special abilities that let them know food has been stolen” You whisper to the boys with a suppressed grin. Each of them held lemon tarts as you securely closed the door.

Luke’s doe eyes widen with fear, “Do you think they’re witches? Will they curse us?”

“ The kitchen maids are not the ones you should be worried about” The three of you whipped around at the sound of your mother’s voice. She stood tall in the firelight, a red robe covering her as she stared down expectantly.

A nervous grin stretched across your features, “ Muna! We were just collecting lemon tarts to bring to you!”

“ You know, your father has this knack for flattering me when he’s trying to cover a lie. It would be a shame for my daughter to try and do the same” She hummed suspiciously.

“ I would never!” You cringed as you realized how identical you sounded to your kepa, “Alright, we were trying to sneak lemon tarts for ourselves, but it won’t happen again! ”

“ If you were still hungry, you should have told me so. Now, Jace, Luke, take the tarts to your chambers and go to bed please.” The boys bid Rhaenyra a good night and took off down the hall swiftly.

Your fingers fiddled with your nightdress nervously, “ I’m sorry, I did not mean to cause trouble.”

“ Oh my heart, you did not cause trouble. It is natural to sneak out at a young age, but you need to be careful here. There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector.” She cooed, her thumb stroking your cheek.

The fire in your eye returned once more, “ No one will hurt them. Not while I’m by their side.”

“-I’m starting to think she had a medical condition at this point” It was Jace once again who pulled you from the past, but with Luke beside him this time. The two of them both stared at you with confusion. The dry itch in your eyes became apparent as you came back into focus.

“ Maybe she’s just tired from dealing with Aemond all the time-”

You cut off Luke’s jest with a groan, “ Okay, can we not start up the hate train for my boyfriend today? I was just daydreaming, good gods.”

“ No need to start the train up when it was never off in the first place” Jace spoke teasingly. Any rebuttals that were set to come from your mouth were ceased by the constant buzzing from your phone, which laid on the counter for everyone to see.

Luke’s eyes bugged at the sight of Aemond’s contact,“ ñuha zaldrīzes?! You call him your drag-”

“Shut up!” You reached over to slap a hand over his mouth as you answered the phone, “ Aem, hey, what’s going on?”

“What’s going on? Have you looked at the time recently?” looking over to the clock, your face fell. It was twenty past seven, which meant you were twenty minutes late to your dinner with Aemond.

“I thought you would be here as soon as Jace got home, has he not arrived yet?” From beside you, Jace held a thumbs up, as if he was allowing you to use him as an excuse.

“He was a little late getting home and then we got to talking and I just-”

Aemond’s sigh drowned out your words, “-Lost track of time, yeah. It seems like that happens a lot when you’re with them.”

The boy’s watched as you visibly deflated, “Aemond, that’s not fair.”

“ Not fair? You constantly put me second to them. I am- your husband and lover. Sooner or later you will have to choose, either me or them, and I will not tolerate a bastard being put before me. Not in this lifetime or the next.”

“You are being unreasonable, Aemond!”

“ The unreasonable one is you! There is a war afoot and you insist on playing both sides. If you think this will end in a happy ever after..then you’re- mistaken. Are you even listening? Hello?” Time was running out and you could feel it. The last time Aemond had spoken those words, Luke had ended up dead hours later. With fear clouding your judgment you hung up without another word. Which probably didn’t help the situation, but what else could you do? Tell Luke what you thought would happen? No, he was only fifteen, he would be terrified. You couldn’t tell Jace, because as close as the two of you were he would still think you’re crazy. And Aemond, he was absolutely out of the question. Accusing him of something like that would drive the wedge further between the two of you.

“ You must protect them, Tala. You are their big sister, their fate rests with you.” What if I don’t know how?

“There are people in this world who seek to hurt your brothers, and you must be their protector” How can I be their protector when I brought the danger to them? Is it me? Am I the variable that needs to be changed? What if I take Luke’s place?

“ Luke-” Your throat tightened as you looked forward. The spot Luke previously stood in was empty, as was Jace’s spot beside you, “ Luke?!”

Jace reappeared from behind you,“ He went out to ride his bike.”

Confusion and worry clouded your eyes,“ It’s raining, he can’t possibly ride in this weather?!”

Jace shrugged, “I suppose the rain didn’t matter after he heard your conversation with Aemond.”

“Wha-” Fear suffocated your heart like a python. He wouldn’t confront Aemond over a silly argument, would he?

“ Before you ask, no I did not just let him walk out the door to go confront our sociopathic uncle. He isn’t that fast of a peddler, so I’ll just catch up to him in the car” You snatched the keys from Jace’s hand before he could even finish his next thought.

“ Hey-”

“- This is my fault, I’ll fix it” You spoke while making a beeline for the front door, “ I promise I’ll bring the car back in one piece, and Luke too!” You didn’t wait for Jace to reply, there was no need. Nothing he could say would change your mind.

The rain barely touched you, that’s how fast you had made it to the car. You used one hand to whip out onto the street as your other hand pulled up Aemond’s contact. It rang four, five times before going to voicemail. You tried again and again to no avail before it finally went through.

“ Hello? Aemond?” Your voice was as shaky as the car on the slick roads.

“ Are you going to hang up on me again?” His tone was short, meaning he was upset.

“ No, I was just overwhelmed-” The familiar click of a turning signal sounded throughout the car, but you weren’t turning, “ Aemond, please tell me you’re at home.”

“ I’m not. I’m on my way to pick you up” Oh gods. You couldn’t do this, not now. Why was it all happening so fast?

“ I’m not there. I went out to look for Luke. Just go back home and I will meet you there” You pleaded, which was entirely out of character for you.

“I’m not far-”

“-Aemond, please! Just this once, listen to me” You hoped the urgency in your voice would persuade him to listen. Alas, it did not, and part of you knew it wouldn’t.

“The rain is too thick to turn back now. I can barely see anything as it is” Aemond argued, “ I’ll wait at the boy’s house until you get back. I promise I won’t do anything, I won’t even get out of the car.”

Your fear regressed a little. If Aemond was out of the way, then nothing could possibly happen. This could work, or so you thought. Straight ahead, racing through the storm was Lucerys. He was completely drenched from what you could tell and barely pedaling straight. You hit the brakes and jumped out of the car.

“ Luke, get in the car!” The storm roared loudly over your voice, but he still managed to hear you.

Luke shook his head, “ I won’t let him treat you like that, not again.”

“What do you mean not again?” That’s when you noticed, Luke’s eyes were different, older, “You remember, don’t you?”

He nodded slowly, unsurely, “ When Aegon hit my head against the table at dinner last week it all came flooding back. I thought they were dreams at first, but then I noticed how different you acted. How you had changed then to now.”

“ You never said anything”

“I didn’t know that you remembered, I’m sorry” He apologized through chattering teeth.

You smiled softly, “ It doesn’t matter anymore, just come with me. Let me take you back home.”

That’s when Luke’s own smile fell, “ I can’t. I ran away from him the first time, but not this time.”

“ That wasn’t your fault, Luke. I was the one who told you to run, so please, just- take my hand!"

"I won't leave Arrax!" Luke screamed from below you, ignoring the hand that you held down towards him.

"Vhagar is set to kill Arrax. You must take my hand Lucerys, please!" Eyes as green as sea moss flashed through the heavy downpour like lightning. Eyes that held fear that chilled your bones more than the freezing rain. Next came the hand, the hand that held scars from dragon riding yet looked as soft as a handful of clouds. You reached for it amidst the haze, only it never seemed to get any closer.

“Reach further-” and that’s when you saw it, rather than when you saw him. It was Aemond atop Vhagar who appeared in what seemed like a split second. Your heartbeat quickened and you reached for Lucerys once more, except something was blinding you this time- headlights, that’s what was in your way. The beams of light raced down the street with no intention of slowing down. You would be worried about them hitting you if Luke wasn’t in between their path and you. Like before, you weren’t fast enough. Every step you took towards your brother seemed to push him father away.

“Lucerys, Move!” Your screams mingled with his as he turned too late. In what seemed like slow motion you watched as Luke rolled atop the car as it completely mangled his bike. Much to your horror, the driver slammed on their brakes, propelling Luke forward.

“No!” Your feet were moving before your brain could even process what happened, “ No, no, no, please no.”

The pavement cut into your knees as you knelt beside Luke. You pulled his head to rest on your knees, paying no mind to the blood that soaked through your pants. His eyes were open, yet lifeless. The vibrant green that they held before now shone as a dull gray. You leaned down to place your ear on his chest. Nothing. Not a single sound.

“ Lucerys please, you can’t leave me again, “ Your tears mixed with the rain, “ Come back to me, Ñuha prūmia”

“ You did well, Ñuha prūmia. Do not fret” Your sincere words traveled in one ear and out the other for Lucerys. Jace had beaten him at dueling practice yet again.

He scrunched his nose as your endearment, “ Must you call me that? It sounds girly.”

“It is a simple endearment, I mean no harm to your pride. I refer to you as my heart in the same manner that I call Jacaerys my soul” You explain softly, reaching over to ruffle his curls.

“What is Joffrey then?”

“I’m not sure,” You hum in thought, “ Perhaps he is my mind.”

He peers up at you in curiosity, “Which of the three would you say that you can not live without?”

“Mhm, my heart would be the answer. I fear I’d go mad if I ever lost you.” His cherubic smile faded to a bloody gasp. The sight alone smothered out the fire in your heart and set off a drum in your skull.

“ Is he alright? I couldn’t see him through the rain. I swear- oh gods…” Whilst still regaining focus where you sat on Storms End Avenue, you looked up to see none other than Aemond Targaryen speaking to you through the rain. His hair lay limp against his face, almost covering the grim expression he held, which seemed to darken as you came into view. You gently laid Lucerys’s head on the road below before standing on shaky legs.

“ Don’t. Don’t you dare tell me it was an accident, not again” You advanced toward Aemond until the tip of your finger dug into his chest. The patience you once had now worn thin and making way for eons of repressed anger and guilt.

Confusion danced across Aemond’s face, “ Again? What are you talking about-”

“Stop acting like you do not know!” You screamed, shoving him backward, “ I am tired of everyone acting like they know nothing when everything else is happening according to the past!”

“We can talk this out, just calm down” Aemond almost sounded like he was pleading as he reached out for you, but in truth, Aemond never pleaded to anyone. Not even the woman he claimed to love.

"Calm down?! I am to watch my brothers be murdered AGAIN and you want me to CALM DOWN?! You are wrong if you think I will sit by an.. and.. a-", the longer you stood, the worse your vision got. At this point, the pounding in your head had gotten so loud that your vision swayed. Through the dark spots blotting your eyes, you could see silhouettes of dragons dancing in the clouds and the water surrounding you turning red. Everything began to feel weightless, except your head of course.

“ Woah, hey” Aemond was there to catch you as you crumbled, “ Keep your eyes open for me, okay? I’m going to call for help, but I need you to stay awake.”

You tried to stay awake, you really did, but it was all too much. The weight of it all dragged you into the darkness without a fight. It was hours before you awoke, and when you did it was in a hospital bed. A warm weight against your leg is the first thing your brain registers. Well, that and the blinding white hue of the hospital walls.

"Luke.." your throat was dry and scratchy, almost as if you had been screaming for days. Your eyes surveyed the room wearily until they landed on Jace. He must have been the warmth you were feeling. His arms lay atop the bed next to you, crossed snuggly beneath his head. You could tell the skin around his eyes was puffy and red despite them being closed. He had been crying, but over what? Was it Luke? Had last night not been just another nightmare of the past? You reached out, brushing against Jacaerys arm lightly, but still firm enough to rouse him from his sleep.

His eyes fluttered for a moment before fully snapping open, "You're awake!"

" I don't remember falling asleep.." you spoke in true confusion.

Jace's eyes seemed to soften, whether or not it was in pity or sadness you did not know," You didn't fall asleep, you collapsed. Aemond brought you in-"

" and Luke? " A part of you couldn't help but be hopeful. If you couldn't remember passing out, then perhaps Luke's death was a hallucination of your foggy memory as well. Even if the look in Jace's eyes already told you differently.

" They said he was dead upon impact. Aemond killed him." your heartbeat picked up on the monitor as Jace spoke, "I know it's not what you want you to hear, and that you love Aemond, but it's true."

"Aemond claims that he didn't see him in time. That the rain made the roads too slick and that he lost control of the car, but he’s lying" Jace seethed, paying no mind to your reaction.

"Jace-"

His eyes held fire and the smallest hint of disbelief as they flickered back to you, "Please don't defend him. Whatever you're going to say, just don't. My mother has already retaliated and I've opened a lawsuit against Aemond. There's nothing else you can say."

" You don't know that unless you let me speak" You waited for a beat of silence before continuing, "I was not going to defend Aemond. On the contrary, I was going to tell you that it wasn't an accident. It's just like before."

Jace s eyes widened, " Like before? Has Aemond killed someone else?"

You shake your head quickly, "No, not this lifetime. You misunderstand, I'm talking about when he killed Lucerys the first time."

" I'm not sure what you're talking about. None of this has ever happened before-"

The patience you once had before Lucerys's death is now long gone, "-Yes it has! You just have to remember, like Luke did. I need you to remember Jace, please, before the same happens to you."

Jace leans forward to encase both of your shaking hands," If it's the lawsuit that troubles you, then you need not worry. Nothing is going to happen to me. I've taken many precautions. Otto Hightower has agreed to meet us halfway to our beach house in Dragonstone to receive the papers. He's bringing Criston Cole as a witness and I'm bringing Corlys. Everything will run smoothly."

Halfway to Dragonstone, the gullet. You sucked in a trembling breath as images of Jacaerys' arrow-riddled body flashed before your eyes. He was close to his death and yet he didn't remember, not like Lucerys did. You were the only one left with the knowledge of what was to come… Or So you thought.

#hotd #hotd fanfic #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen angst #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon #lucerys x reader #velaryon reader #aemond targaryen x velaryon!reader #Jacaerys Velaryon x Velaryon!reader #Lucerys Velaryon x velaryon!reader #hotd angst #angst

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aintgonnatakethis · 4 months ago

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Writing Interview Tag!

Big thanks to @moltenwrites for the tag! I've seen this going around and was hoping to be tagged at some point. *rubs hands together* There'll be a readmore at the bottom with the templates for both desktop and mobile.

About me

When did you start writing?

Very young, around 5-6. I remember there was homework where the teacher gave everyone a list of words and asked us to write a sentence with each word. I would turn in a paragraph for each instead 😂 When I was 14 I was writing a lot of Doctor Who fic on FFnet (I can't believe that was 16 years ago 💀) and during the lockdown I started writing again for something to do.

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

I don't think so? Sorry, that's a really unsatisfying answer, I know. It's like when you're asked what your favourite book is and you instantly forget every book you've ever read 😂

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

Is this gonna be weird? Probably. Am I gonna fight through the anxiety anyway? Sure, you betcha! @septembriseur is one of the best writers I have ever had the pleasure of reading. Your Telford is second to none. Thank you.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

Just sitting in my bed cradling my laptop. Despite only being 3 and a half years old it's got a whole host of things wrong with it, the most problematic being a loose connection somewhere inside the charging port. To be able to charge I have to sit in a very specific position and stay still, with a metal water bottle braced against the charging cable to keep it pushed in, another cable tied around it with an elastic band and hooked over the opposite side of the laptop. It's... honestly not the best lol. But it's a gaming laptop so getting it fixed would probably be expensive and I just don't have the money.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Am I allowed to say drugs? 😂 I'm prescribed ADHD meds and Pregabalin for anxiety, and they both help me focus enough to get words down on the page. I'd be pretty screwed without them tbh. I had an appointment with a doctor today and am getting an instant release ADHD medication added to my prescription as the extended release wears off by mid-to-late afternoon, so maybe I'll be able to get another daily writing session in when I take that!

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Hn. I want to say not really, but it must have influenced me in some way, right? Kids are sponges and will soak up and mimic the behaviours of the adults around them, and often people will reach adulthood with opinions and ideas that they don't even realise were created by an outside influence.

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

QUEER! And no, it doesn't surprise me at all. 😂 I love writing about self-discovery, characters figuring out they can grow outside of the box society has built for them.

Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

So, uh, I'm just gonna link y'all here, where I ramble on about David Telford from Stargate Universe for fucking ages. He's in my brain spinning plates as we speak. (He never stops.)

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Well, in real life I wouldn't want to be friends with anyone in the military. While the US military is a special interest of mine because of Stargate, I am very aware that these characters are not realistic when compared to their real life counterparts. Realism in this area is one reason my favourite of the series is Universe, but even then these men aren't... Well, let's just say that - just like in politics - you don't get far in the military if you're a good person.

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

😬😬😬 I mean, the fact they're dislikeable is part of the draw, ya know? I think irl-Young would suck absolute balls. 😂

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

Not super applicable as I'm a solely fandom writer, but the parts of the characters we're not given by the show come to me as I write, like puzzle pieces slotting into place. A good back-and-forth conversation is another excellent way to dig deep into them.

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

QUEER! But being serious, I've given both Everett Young (SGU) and John Sheppard (SGA) intrusive thoughts...

My writing

What’s your reason for writing?

Escapism. Creativity. The characters are in my head screaming at me.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

Ooh, the long back-and-forth conversations! I'm here to talk endlessly about these little fucking blorbos and I will ramble about them to anyone!

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Taking this very seriously: a man. I know that fandom is typically a woman-dominated area and I've met quite a few other trans people through Stargate, but yeah. I know there are cultural differences with what are generally considered gender neutral terms around the world, but I do not want to ever be referred to as a girl or with woman-coded terms. I've had to fight hard to be able to be myself: man, dude, bro, there are a lot of choices.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Hmm... consistency? I set the New Year's resolution to write something every day in 2022. That year I missed 2 and half weeks because I had top surgery and while beforehand I thought 'awesome, I'll have plenty of time to write!' it turned out that recent wounds almost in my armpits makes it quite painful to move my arms... 🤔 In 2023 I wrote every day and so far I've kept that up in 2024. It's not always a lot of words, but it's always something.

What have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

Characterisation. I've been told I've got my SGU boys (Telford, Young, and Rush) down to a tee.

How do you feel about your own writing?

There's a cycle where I look back at stuff I've written and compare it to what I'm currently writing and think 'this new stuff isn't as good', but in 3 months the stuff I'm currently writing will be what I think is good so... There are pieces I'm especially proud of, of course. If you'd allow me to plug for a moment, I think a memory, a distant echo is one of the best things I've ever written. Mind the tags though.

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

Yeah sure. I write primarily for myself so I don't see any reason why I'd stop. I wouldn't live long though lmao

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

First point of contact has to be with me, always. If something doesn't resonate with me, I can't write it. Forcing things is going to make writing unenjoyable and for me it's one of the most joyous things I do and I want to keep it that way. That said, if there's specific interest in a certain idea I have, that of course does motivate me. Feedback is the nectar of writers!

Tagging: @fortunatetragedy @bagheerita @frostysfrenzy @adriankyte-writes @frostedlemonwriter

@gioiaalbanoart @septembriseur @authorcoledipalo @anonmadsci @the-golden-comet + OPEN

@wolgerrswraith @chaniis-atlantis

About me

When did you start writing?

Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?

Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?

Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?

Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character?

Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?

Which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?

Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters?

Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?

How do you picture your characters?

My writing

What’s your reason for writing?

Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating?

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?

How do you feel about your own writing?

If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

About meWhen did you start writing?Are there different genres or themes you enjoy reading other than the ones you write?Is there an author you want to emulate, or are compared to often?can you tell me a bit about your writing space? What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and/or places you write about?Are there any reoccurring themes in your writing? If so, do they surprise you?Characters: would you please tell me about your current favorite character? Which of your characters would you be friends with in real life?which characters would you dislike the most of you met them?Tell me about the process of coming up with your characters? Do you notice any reoccurring themes/traits in your characters?How do you picture your characters? My writing: what’s your reason for writing?Is there any specific comment or type of comment from readers that you find particularly motivating? How do you want to be thought about by your readers?What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?have you been told is your greatest strength as a writer is by others?How do you feel about your own writing?If you were the last person on earth, would you still write?When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, do you write purely for yourself, or is it a mix of both?

#mine #writeblr #writeblr tag game #tag game #writeblr community #writing community #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #open tag #writeblr open tag #writing interview #writing interview tag #about me #moltenwrites

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starg1rlie · 1 year ago

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𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 ㅤㅤPROLOGUE: The Baby | (MLIST)

⟡ rating. slight romance + angst ( adolescent audience )

⟡ summary. ( the re-written version of "better late than never" is finally here! i know some people have asked about it, since i've deleted it but it's BACK NOW!! ) not all fairy tales end in a happily-ever-after. take (Y/N) and ajax for example; they had the love story of a lifetime and yet it's now all water under the bridge. ten years after the two of them split up, it was suggested that (Y/N) spend a summer vacation over in snezhnaya to give their son and the father some time to bond together and enjoy a relaxing break. however, that's easier said than done.

notes. you have no idea how long this post has been sitting in my drafts, oml. hey, yep, this is leo here, formerly known online as tarluscious (or, leo, as my moots know me), here to talk a bit about the remake of this delightful series. ever since i started publishing more and more chapters of this series back when it was still a "fly by the seat of my pants" project, i wasn't happy with the final results. i mean, hell, who's ever happy with the first attempt? and i've been meaning to re-write this series for so long, but i never found the time to. when i took my hiatus a couple of months ago, i was a little sad that i wouldn't get the chance to write BLTN over again. however, my friend, who now runs this blog (hyokkun) with me, suggested that they might re-write it, and we came to a happy conclusion that the both of us should work on this project together. so here we are, with the prologue. yayy. just wanted to say that what this means is, hyokkun has added their own inputs into this series, while i, leo, am the main author of it. so, all that being said, i hope you thoroughly enjoy this re-written version. please note that some things may be different from the last time you've read this series, and that's because changes has been made to fit the new plot accordingly. reblogs and likes are appreciated ! | wc. 1,542 words ( 8,566 characters )

⟡ feat. childe / tartaglia x female! reader ( she / her pronouns are used )

ㅤㅤA cry split through the peaceful silence of the hospital. A baby, swaddled in warm, cuddly blankets had begun wailing, even though he was cradled within the arms of his mother. He kept bawling, even as the mother hummed a lullaby, even as she rocked him back and forth in her arms, even as she cupped one side of his delicate face and whispered 'It's going to be okay' over and over again.

ㅤㅤA new wave of sickness passed over (Y/N) as she stared down at her stomach, imagining what it would be like bigger, pondering over the process it takes for a baby to develop within her. It both simultaneously intrigued and terrfied her. She couldn't imagine popping out a baby from her unmentionables, let alone having it stuck in her womb for months. Yet as she began to wonder, a new question came into light: would she give up this baby? Could she?

ㅤㅤPeople say that you don't really have a choice when you're young; no one's capable of raising a child when they're barely just a young adult, and yet, she could name a few people she knew right off the bat who were doing just fine with parenting. But the real question was if she was ready for this. Be it ready to give it up or ready to endure the consequences, it didn't matter. She just had to know for sure if she was ready.

ㅤㅤShe still remembered the conversation that had went down only a few weeks ago. She refers to it as a 'discussion', but really, it was a full-out argument....A migraine had formed underneath her temple and had buried its heels in deep, causing a resonating pounding to echo within her head, messing with her already tangled up thoughts. And yet, that day's memories remained untouched. If anything, it was tugged free of the mess and pulled into the light.

ㅤㅤ"What the fuck? What the fuck?"

ㅤㅤ"Saying 'what the fuck' over and over again isn't going to make the situation anymore better than it already is, Ajax," (Y/N) interrupted, breathing out a slightly exasperated sigh. She'd been scared out of mind about telling her boyfriend about the news and this was exactly why: he'd take it badly. He always took life-changing news badly, unless it involved travelling, free food, or money. She'd grown used to his childish behaviour ever since the two started going out, but right now was not the time to act like a child.

ㅤㅤ"Then what will make this better? Huh? Please elaborate on that for me," Ajax replied sarcastically, throwing his hands up in the air. He'd been pacing for the past five minutes since (Y/N) had spilled the beans about her pregnancy. Anymore pacing and he'd pace a trench right through their apartment floor. "Because I really don't understand how anything can make this better."

ㅤㅤ"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that you're going to be a father? Haven't you been going on and on about wanting to have a son one day?" (Y/N) retorted, patience fizzling.

ㅤㅤ"When I'm thirty, not twenty-four!"

ㅤㅤ"What's a few years early? If anything, you'd get your dream quicker," she mumbled under her breath, absentmindedly flipping through the channels on the cable.

ㅤㅤAjax leapt forward and snatched the remote out of her hands, slamming it roughly onto the glossy surface of their coffee table, one that he'd insisted he put together himself, even though the table had come from IKEA, and he knew nothing on how to read instructions in Swedish. That little memory caused a tiny pang to go through her heart, enough to make it ache just a little bit. Please, she prayed, please let us get through this together.

ㅤㅤ"You're not listening! Do you honestly think that I'm ready for this? That you're ready for this? We're still in college for God's sake, do you expect us to be whizzes at parenthood?"

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) barely managed to withhold a snort at his sarcasm, but politely shook her head. She knew deep down inside that she wasn't ready to be a mother, let alone have a child at such a young age. What would her friends think? What would her parents think?

ㅤㅤ"What, then, I 'spose you expect us to waltz right in and get comfortable in our positions as parents, right? We'll be fine, so long as we manage to balance a baby into our already hectic and crazy lives, right? Just plop it right in between work and college and paying bills, hm?"

ㅤㅤ"Right," she repeated.

ㅤㅤAjax paused his pacing for a moment. "Do you understand the concept of sarcasm?" he asked incredulously.

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) went silent, seemingly contemplating whether she'd been too hasty to cast in her answer earlier.

ㅤㅤ"Whatever. It doesn't matter." His jaw tensed and for a moment, he looked as though he might punch something. Not (Y/N), heavens no, but something. Possibly the fridge (poor thing; it never did anything to deserve this sort of abuse). "What matters is that you're pregnant and we're still in college. We're students, we can barely make it past out deadlines, let alone manage a child." He sounded almost tired, and for the first time in a while, she just now noticed the bags under his eyes, and the tired croak to his voice, taking the place of the usual charming lilt he normally had. How many times had she come home from her part-time job at the laundromat to see him passed out on the exact same coffee table they were currently in front of, drooling all over his calculus homework? How many times had she come back from her lectures to find a pristine sink and an empty fridge? Ajax was incredibly vain and conscious about his self-image, that he took great lengths to make himself look presentable each day. But ever since his senior year in college started, his schedue started going downhill and he never had the time to do any of the things he normally did to take care of his body. He hadn't eaten proper food for days, and has been liviing off of coffee (and her fancy vanilla oatmilk creamer) and Doritos for God knows how long.

ㅤㅤ"What are we going to do?" (Y/N) asked finally, voice timid and quiet, as if anything louder might break the fragility of this scene.

ㅤㅤWhen Ajax looked up, she had expected his face to be sad, almost regretful for saying such things about the situation, but instead she found his gaze hard and penetrating, almost menacing. "We can't look after a baby right now, (Y/N), you know that."

ㅤㅤAnd the truth was, she did know it. She just chose not to believe it. But the way he worded it, the way he said it, seemed to hint at something. Something that made waves of nausea roll through the pits of her stomach.

ㅤㅤ"You're not suggesting...."

ㅤㅤ"An abortion," Ajax finished quietly, gaze trained on a coffee stain on the carpet.

ㅤㅤ"Ajax, no. No. We can't give the baby up before we've even tried. That's just cruel. This is your child, possibly the son you said you wanted, and you're just going to throw him away? Let him die before he gets a chance to play on a soccer team, like you did? Before he even gets a chance to see the two people who made him?" Your voice broke at those last few words and before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face in thick, wet trails. "You might be giving up on him, but I'm never letting go."

ㅤㅤAjax inhaled sharply, air hissing through clenched teeth as he breathed out. "We aren't ready for this, (Y/N)."

ㅤㅤ She knew he was right. She knew it in her heart and in her brain. But some part of her wanted to keep this unborn baby that was developing within her stomach right now. Some part of her wanted to know the happiness of being a parent, a mother.

ㅤㅤShe didn't want to follow through with this. She didn't want to let the baby die. And yet...

ㅤㅤ"Miss (L/N)? You can come in now. Dr. Li's ready for you," a voice called, interrupting (Y/N)'s train of thought. She looked up, one hand resting on her tummy, the other clenched around a cell phone. The screen was still on, a barrage of messages (most likely from her family and friends) lighting up the screen with soft 'pings'.

ㅤㅤShe breathed in deeply, exhaling slowly, a breathing trick she'd learned from online to calm her nerves down.

ㅤㅤFinally, she spoke.

ㅤㅤ"Ah, sorry. I'm afraid I've changed my mind. If it's alright with you, I'll be canceling my appointment."

ㅤㅤThe nurse hesitated for a moment before nodding along. She obviously was not paid enough to barge into patients' lives, so she (wisely) kept her nose in her own business. "Of course, miss. I'll let him know you'll be leaving. Have a lovely rest of your day."

ㅤㅤ(Y/N) nodded along before waddling out of the waiting room, feeling giddy and deliriously light from the weight that had just been lifted from her shoulders. Ajax would be upset over this, yes, but it would be worth it. She could feel it in her bones.

📮 tagging. @kiryoutann, @ajaxstar, @mobiussdarling, @samarill, @dinolvrrr, @messyserver, @xxfrostiee, @enviouspeanut, @ehddsnys, @maaarshieee, @dazaiscum, @mochicurls21, @shinobuko, @iiyumii, @meiraloves2dmen, @retiredmommylover, @electronicphilosopherflower. if your user is highlighted in BOLD that means your current URL does not match the one you inputted in the form. fill out this form if you want to be tagged

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mariaenchanted · 2 years ago

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The Victim of His Love (Part 3)

Pairings: Aegon II Targaryen x Lowborn!Reader

Summary: You followed your heart and it destroyed you.

Word Count: 2.1k

Note: I know, my updates are not consistent. I am trying my best to write when i have my precious “FREE TIME”. Also i would like to let you know that these series is a SLOW BURN. We are gonna have to take our time building up this story, so please be patient with me.

Furthermore, I also want to thank everyone for reading. Everything has been so surreal. Thank you so much for the support, Sweets! 🌷

Masterlist

***

A year has passed...

You are about to finish sewing a piece of fabric you are making into a tiny garment when you hear a soft cry from the small cradle beside you.

You immediately put everything on the table, then scoop your babe into your arms.

"Go back to sleep, my little Aerion."

You hum as you rock him, letting him fall into his deep slumber again. You glance at his face as you see him close his eyes. Day by day, his appearance looks more and more like the man you had been trying to forget. By this, you wonder if you can ever erase him from your memory if his exact replica will always remind you of everything you are trying to forget.

His white hair is sticking out from the bonnet you had made. You pushed it inside to hide it from any prying eyes of other people. It does not leave his head because it may cause questions about his true identity. As it is peculiar for a child to have these kinds of features.

You don't know how long you can hide this part of his life when he grows up because people here have known about the Targaryen line, a family with lilac eyes and white hair that made them look ethereal, people that owned dragons that covered the whole sky as they flew across the solid grounds.

You don't want your child to grow up feeling isolated on why he's different from others, and you will do everything it takes to hide what's underneath Aerion's head. But only one really knows the reality, and that is Enith. The old woman that helped you settle in this village. In her home, the one who helped you get back up after everything and became your mother when you never had one.

***

You are collecting wood to build a fire before the sun sets when someone calls your attention from nearby. As you turn your back to look where the voice came from, you immediately see an old lady standing near the big tree where you made a little shelter by yourself using fabrics you had found abandoned near the market.

You had been settling here for more than a day. You chose this location as no one bothered you here, and the river is near your tiny home. So you are a little ashamed when someone finds you hiding here.

You immediately went to her while rubbing both your hands to your dress to ease the tension from your body. As you are nearing, you try to think of a reason for your situation when she interrupts you.

"Get your items, then come with me." She said and walked away. She does not sound mad, but you are wary of following her because of your condition.

"If you don't want to get bitten by snakes in this place, then the best is to come with me." She looked at you and went away, walking using her cane.

Hesitant, but you get everything you had owned and follow her. You pass through so many trees after that. As you make your way to her, you can smell a heavenly and almost familiar scent; that is when it reveals a field of lavender that's about to sprout into existence.

Then you saw her open her home, A little wooden house surrounded by a fence with views of the sea when you look in front of the windows.

You follow her inside, roam your eyes, and take in everything. You beam because this is the place you'd wish to have someday. It may be small, but it is a place you look forward to going home to after a long day. Little trinkets hanging from the wall give life to the house.

"People here called me Enith. What do they call you?"

Uncertain, you still answer her question and tell her your name.

"Eat." You heard her say, and your eyes went to the table before you. You saw a steaming bowl of soup with bread and an unforeseen event; your stomach might have felt the delicious food being served; it growled loudly more than you can imagine.

It's been days since you had a hearty meal, and you won't pass this opportunity to have this kind of food. You instantly sit down and devour the meal before you while you see her sitting in the chair that is in front of you. Then suddenly, she asked.

"Where are you from?" With gentleness in her voice. You stop, then put your utensils down. There's no need to hide; you have been doing this for a while and don't want that anymore. If you stay here for the rest of your life, this woman should know something about you.

"I'm from King's Landing."

"That's a long way from here. You both must be very exhausted." While looking at your stomach and back to you.

"How.. how did you know?" While trying to hide my stomach from her.

"I just know I am once a mother too. Why come here? No one will ever choose to go to this place; there is nothing here. It's far different from the King's Landing."

"Yes, it's unlike where I used to live, but I'm glad my journey ended here. To an unfamiliar place where no one knows you. Where you can have a second chance in life."

You put your hands on your lap and give her a smile.

"Did you plan to run away together? With the father of the child?"

Stunned by her sudden question, your smile slowly disappears as you face the reality again that you are the only one who believes in the promise of his love. You, the girl who had given her everything; her body, soul, and heart to the first man who was not afraid to be with her despite the different worlds you both lived in. But in the end, you merely became a victim of his love. You are a fool.

"He... He changed his mind. I suppose I'm not truly the one he ever wanted."

"Love is all about taking a risk, and getting hurt will always be a part of it. You know, you remind me a lot of my daughter."

She stood and went to look out the window. You follow her movement and sense that her mind might be somewhere else. Silence took over the room. The food that should have been eaten was quickly forgotten. To break the deafening stillness, you ask out of curiosity.

"Where is she now? If you do not mind me asking."

"Just like you, she ran away because of the thing we all want." she turned around to face you again, smiling, but it did not reach her eyes. There is an emotion still buried and trying to hide.

"Do you not like the man that she loves?"

You saw her mouth turned up before she answered.

"As a mother, we only want the best for our child even in love, and because of that, sometimes you become too blind to see that it is her heart that chooses to love that person, not us."

"Did she ever come back?"

She shakes her head.

"No, but I know she's happy, yet I wish she knows how regretful I am for everything I've done."

You see her blink her eyes, trying to stop herself from crying as her tears form.

"Your daughter knows, Enith. I may not know what had occurred, but she knows that." You reassured her.

"I am still attempting to persuade myself of that." She persisted, but before you could answer her back. Enith promptly spoke.

"If you are done, clean your clutter up and sort out your items here. As I have said before, you don't want to go back there and get bitten by those snakes."

After she said that, she instantly went outside while you followed her, dumbfounded by her declaration. Being an old woman, she is sure she can walk fast.

"Are you playing tricks on me?" You shouted while she makes way to the well near the immense tree she had.

"A thank you would be grateful." She called back as she still resumed going to her destination.

You laugh a little louder than you anticipated. Elated as you feel you have achieved your second chance in life, which you have desperately desired, it is happening precisely now.

***

You heard the door open and saw Enith, who became your mother over time. After living together, you have treated each other with love and care, and you almost feel the tenderness from her in nearly every moment you have with her. Like your secret, she also does her best to care for Aerion.

"The trees are starting to grow its fire on their buds. Just like the lavender will begin to smell." Enith said as she sorted everything she bought on the table while you put Aerion on the cradle, then looked outside the window.

You remembered like it had happened a day ago. This is precisely the scene when you first came here to this home. Lavenders bloom, and the trees mature, depicting the fire sprouting on their blossoms.

You now know why this place is called Pyrefield because almost all the tree that flourishes here grows a flower with the blend of the shades of blood and hues of the sun when it rises. Looking at the village from afar, the land will look like it is on flame. This town may appear to be forgotten, but you can never believe the beauty it holds.

***

Later that night, you woke up to Aerion crying. You scooped him up, thinking he might be hungry when you felt he was warmer than usual. You moved a bit to the light when you saw his face flushed and rashes starting to appear on his neck. Aerion's crying might have caused Enith to wake up as you heard her open your door. Concern was written all over her face as she went near you.

"We need to go to the healer."

***

"He is healed for now," Giya said, but she looked worried.

"For now? What are you saying? His fever is gone, and rashes might as well be gone too." Panic starts forming in your chest as you hand Aerion to Enith.

"Yes, but it can come back if we do not let him drink this tonic again, then his fever will worsen." Then she handed you a half-empty bottled that was given to Aerion.

"Then make it again; we will pay you as long as the babe is safe," Enith said as she continued to sway Aerion to calm him. You saw him sucking his tiny fingers as he slowly closed his eyes. Taking his time to rest from all that happened a few moments ago.

"It is not about the cost of this but the ingredient we need to make the tonic. This cure is made with one item. But it is scarce and difficult to find. Sadly, I do not have anything at hand. I am trying to plant this flower, but it won't be sprouting this soon. I'm sorry, I want to help, but I do not have it."

You seem to have lost your strength from what you heard. What will happen to your child? Will you simply let it be like this? If you can't find the answer here, You'll find another way to keep him alive.

"If you have something that can describe this flower, that would be helpful." Laced with desperation, that is the only thing you have planned.

"This plant lives in colder lands, so I find it challenging to plant this. You should boil it with water, then let him drink it until all the redness on his cheeks is gone."

Then she showed you a sketch of a flower on parchment paper. Then it struck you. This is the same flower Aegon used to give you every time you saw each other in secret. It grows in the royal gardens of the Red Keep. You have to do what you need to do. You thanked Giya and hurriedly left the place.

"What are we going to do now?" as she hands you back the sleeping Aerion.

You walk faster than you expected. She called your name.

"Are you listening to me? What are supposed to do now? He's going to die if we cannot find that plant."

"We will find the flower." You said as you carried on walking back to your home.

"My child, I know you are afraid. But how are we going to find the plant? We don't know where to look."

Regardless of what, you will do everything to get that flower. It felt that the past is starting to catch on to you again. All this is to protect your son, and nothing will stop you, even if you return to where it began.

"We are going back to King's Landing."

***

I hope you enjoy this fic. 🌼

Reblogs are gold. 🌹

Feedbacks are always appreciated. 🌸

#aegon targaryen x reader #Aegon Targaryen #Aegon II Targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen angst #Aegon #aegon x y/n #aegon targaryen x you

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accihoe · 25 days ago

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Wanted Dead or Dead (l)

Sheriff Dave Mustaine series. Pls don't steal my work. I spent a while daydreaming about this idea.

Pairing: Sheriff!Dave Mustaine x fem!reader

Summary: Sheriff to a town and jurisdiction, Dave finds solace in America's most beautiful woman. However, as time unfolds, so does the truth about his past.

Warnings: language, substance abuse, violence, mentions of death, maybe not always historically accurate

A/n: I'm excited for this! I hope it reaches just as excited readers. Please don't steal my work xoxo

This is just a teaser. Real chapters will come

Xxxx

Word had gone around about the small town of a new Sheriff after the death of their previous one. The townspeople gathered as the horses arrived and the wagon too. Y/N stood at the side of the saloon, box cradled against her hip. She'd been lucky enough to find a spot hidden from the scorching sun, yet close enough to see.

The crowd formed eagerly, all wanting to see the new Sheriff.

"Clear out some space!"

One of the officers called, and the crowd parted slightly. A man with fiery red hair, tied back into a sophisticated ponytail stepped out of the wagon. He lifted his beige hat onto his head, shielding his fair face from the harsh desert sun.

His eyes scanned the crowd, a cocky snicker on his face. His eyes seemed to haze as they landed on Y/N, long lashes fluttering over his cheeks.

"Afternoon, townsfolk. I assume you know who I am. If not, wake up."

He stepped down the last steep, boots making dust around themselves. The people moved out of the way as he walked to the entrance of the Sheriff's residence. One by one, people started to clear out and continued to do what they were busy with prior to his arrival.

"Well, that sure was a curt announcement."

Betty spoke to Y/N, who hummed in agreement, still in thought. She'd received many different kinds of looks from many different kinds of men, but never a look quite as fierce as the new Sheriff's. She was no stranger to the knowledge of her blatant beauty, but this time round, it seemed different.

Dave could feel many eyes lingering on him, but he felt those eyes from before. His skin felt warm under her gaze.

"Find out who she is. I want to do with her."

Dave muttered to one of his men.

Before she knew it, Y/N was being escorted to the Sheriff's office. She found herself sitting in a little tea room she did not know the existence of.

"What's a pretty face like yours doin' so far out?"

Dave asked, leaning back as he lit a cigar.

"I don't know you well enough to trust you with my life story, mister."

His eyes looked at her, eyeing her up and down as he took a drag from his cigarette.

"Do you have the displeasure of being a missus?"

Y/N breathed a laugh through her nose, looking at the darkwood desk.

"I could ask you the same thing, Sheriff. How come a man with such distinctly handsome features isn't married yet?"

The Sheriff was thankful for his sunburn that concealed the blush on his cheeks.

"'Cause he's been waitin' for a gal like you."

Dave replied, blowing out the smoke as he held eye contact. Y/N looked at her dress, eyes scanning the stitches of fabric as her brain scrambled for words.

"You ever been dancin' before, miss?"

Y/N chewed her bottom lip, eyes trailing across his stunning figure.

"I'll take that as a no."

He flicked off a bit of ash into the ashtray.

"Tell you what."

He leaned back in his seat again. Y/N remained silent.

"You put on your best dress, and I'll pick you up just after sunset to go dancin' and we'll see where it goes from there."

Y/N tilted her head with a smile, batting her lashes intentionally.

"What makes you think I'd like that, Sheriff?"

"The red tint on those pretty cheeks of yours."

He winked, blowing out another puff of smoke.

Xxxx

Part 2 coming soon. This may not be historically accurate, I apologise about that.

#dave mustaine fluff #dave mustaine x you #dave mustaine fanfiction #dave mustaine x reader #dave mustaine #megadeth fluff #megadeth x reader #megadeth fanfiction #metallica fanfiction

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positivelybeastly · 26 days ago

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X-Men #5

Late, but who cares? Let's go.

So, I've made no secret that I thought Kwannon wasn't really being given enough to do, these last few issues of X-Men, and it's for the same reason I'm happy to see Greycrow here - Zeb Wells' Hellions was amazing. It was one of the few Krakoa era titles that actually bothered to examine the moral double standards of the era, that really took advantage of its unique status quo, that looked at mutant resurrection and thought, okay, how can we mine this, not for obscure background cameos that will make a person on Twitter happy, but for actual drama? It was a truly great series, and I was hoping it would be followed up, if only in small ways.

I do like that Kwannon and John have a cabin together. With how they left off, it felt very personal and intimate between them, like they truly didn't need anything else to be content with one another, and neither of them struck me as people who need action to be fulfilled - or, rather, they don't see action as a means for enjoyment. As Kwannon says here, it merely gives them purpose. So far, so good.

Wasn't expecting an Amelia Voght callback, of all characters. Then again, this is a Jed MacKay joint.

Psychics and death, name a more iconic X-Men duo.

It is interesting that we get kinda sort of confirmation that Quentin remembers being a head, since I would've figured that the Cerebro cradles were down and he'd have lost those memories, but I suppose it's also possible he could have just heard about it second-hand and been like, wow, I got turned into a head in a box? Weird.

Yeah, no, you don't get to call Scott Slim, Quentin. Only Hank, Bobby or Warren get to do that. And Jean, if she's feeling quirky.

Can I also say something? I actually dig Quentin's fit? I don't know if that says something about my fashion sense or what, but I actually like this look for him more than . . . pretty much any other look he's had. Granted, that's not saying much, given his other uniforms were black blazer with t-shirt, the 60s retro-futuristic mutant fascist attire, or the bland melange that was his X-Force uniform, but I do actually like it. Purple and checker pattern work.

So, this whole issue is an homage to New X-Men #121, which was part of Marvel's Nuff Said initiative, and it, along with all the other issues published that month, had pretty much no dialogue in it, it was all told purely through art. It's not a direct homage, of course, since dialogue is happening, but I appreciate the lampshade being hung on it here, with Quentin both pointing out that this isn't like the other homage, and then not-so-subtly pointing out why it isn't like them.

Because Quentin can't shut the fuck up.

Honestly, that's a fun spin on it. That's how you iterate on something you've seen before.

I'm a sucker for mental landscapes. Always have been, always will. I just like getting to grapple with a character's psyche in a tangible way, it's why I like series like Silent Hill or Star Trek's many telepathic episodes. And if I had to break down why I like them?

Well.

Pretty much.

You really could've just called this New X-Men volume 3, Jed, and I don't think anyone would've objected. That being said - I couldn't have given less of a shit what happened in Marauders volume 2, so seeing that Cassandra Nova is back and wasn't consigned to the dustbin because of that series is a win in my book. She's a top tier villain, tbh, one of the best new X-villains of the last 20 years, and her particular incisive methodology for breaking down heroes' psyches feels like it's perfectly suited for the team of this book.

As she demonstrates.

Ahhhh, good foreshadowing earlier, good stuff. And I have to say, Stegman's Sabretooth is fucking top tier. Excellent rendition of the big man himself (whom I already miss, even if he does have a miniseries coming up very soon).

This is a great sequence, tbh. Like, poor Quentin - this is actually the most anyone has made me feel for Quentin since Aaron, about ten years ago - but in terms of threat and character exposition, it's very good, with some excellent art and very Nova-esque deconstruction. I also particularly like this panel composition.

His head is in a smaller panel. His head is literally in a box.

Good stuff, tbh. Again, this is the most useful Quentin feels like he's been in a while, because if he did anything of real worth in X-Force other than die, I'll freely admit that I do not remember it.

Hank, Scott, do you . . . wanna get them some paper towels, or . . ?

Overall, not a bad issue - definitely not as memorable as the original psychic rescue, though.

Now, originally, I was gonna say, you can't hold that against it, it's not easy to match Morrison, that's just common sense, but then again, most writers don't directly invite the comparison, so, I really hope Jed is cooking up something long term and satisfying, because constantly referencing Morrison is all fine and dandy, but it needs to go somewhere.

Still, I'd say the title has been squarely good thus far, and it still has room to get better and better, so I'm gonna give it time to breathe.

Also?

Our expert panel of judges have concluded that Hank McCoy once again wins the title of Original X-Man with the Dumpiest of Dump Truck Asses. Thanks for trying, Scott, but, uh. Your nickname is Slim for a reason.

Conner, you and I are gonna fight.

Damn right. It's not Hank's fault comics readers don't read anything from before 2010 . . .

#outofmuffins #blood tw

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twoidiotwriters1 · 10 months ago

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The Curse of Oenone (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: *Cradles Logan's Percy in my hands* I don't get you but I'd still kill for you -Danny Words: 2,288 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter // Next Chapter Listen to: 'Starting Line' -by Luke Hemmings

IX: Sorry I Threatened to Kill You, It Will Happen Again

"What do you mean?" I stare at the goddess. "I've been obedient, I never complain—who cursed me?"

Aphrodite moves a strand of hair out of my face with a pitiful expression. "It's not something you caused, my dear."

"Am I an actual arae?" I ask in horror. "My father did this?"

"Oh no, it wasn't his intention to curse you when he named you Arae," Aphrodite makes a face. "He had the brain of a monkey, but oh, if there was ever a mortal with charmspeak, that was your father..."

"Lady Aphrodite," I frown. "Focus?"

She pushes the plate of cookies toward me. "You've seen Janus."

"Yeah, but he didn't talk to me this time. I thought he was taunting me," I state.

"I'm here to warn you," she continues. "In this lifetime, you are my daughter, so I can grant you an advantage. Take it as a birthday present."

I want the gods to think about what they consider a proper gift, 'cause telling a young girl that she's got a centuries-old curse on her ain't it.

"That's generous," I say.

"Your first time around," the goddess sinks into the beauty of whatever memory she's revisiting. "People traveled from afar just to catch a glimpse of you. You were perfect..." she wrinkles her nose. "And wasted. Given to an empty carcass of a man."

"Okay," I reply, not following. "And when did this happen, exactly?"

"Then he came," Aphrodite sighs, not listening to me. "Young and charming—I saw him for what he was: your match!"

I feel like she's about to drop a bomb on me. "Cute."

Her eyes focus on me again. "It wasn't cute. It was destiny. I had to give you to him, you see, your union would jumpstart my son's mission. The end of the golden age for Greek Heroes had come at last."

I've heard that sentence before. Not when talking about my love life, but during my lessons with Jason. "Mom," I start, voice shaky. "Are you talking about the Trojan War?"

Aphrodite looks at me."You understand, then?"

"That's crazy," I blurt out.

"Don't lie!" The goddess takes the plate of cookies away. "I've given you enough clues throughout the years for you to figure it out, and you were born my smartest child, Arae. If you ignore it, you'll never break the curse—"

"What curse?" I exclaim in frustration. "I haven't heard anything about a curse!"

"Oenone's curse," Aphrodite declares. "She put it in place when Paris left her."

Ara drops the hammer and holds her injured finger cussing under her breath. This is the third time that she's hurt herself by not paying attention to what her hands are doing, which is not ideal when you're repairing a ship.

She thinks of her conversation with Leo last night. Ara has to tell him about the curse, but it's the kind of stuff that no matter when or how you say it, is bound to make things worse, and the more she waits, the more it scares her. She doesn't want to lose Leo.

Annabeth hands her a pair of safety gloves. "Won't do much to stop you from cutting off a finger, but it can help with the scratches and stuff."

"Thanks," Ara shakes her hand to get rid of the ache and then puts on the gloves. "I can't focus today... I don't know if Lily talked to you before we sailed..."

"I heard the screams," the girl replies, though she keeps it vague. "Wanna talk about it?"

Ara looks at the boards in front of her, lining them in place. "I don't even know where to start..."

"What do you mean?"

She goes back to work while she explains. "At first, it was about Nico, and then... I said things I'd never intended to say out loud and then Lily snapped too. I know I've been... difficult—"

"That's a way to put it," Annabeth walks past her.

"I thought it was for the best if, you know, if we didn't talk about... Michael," she clears her throat. "I had to look after our camp, I could grieve later, after making sure we were all okay."

The older girl sighs. "You wanna know what I think?"

Ara stops a second time and looks at her friend. "Always."

Annabeth leans against the mast, kicking some pieces of splintered wood as she gathers her thoughts.

"After what happened to Michael, you kept Lily in place until you smothered her." The girl points at the dagger hanging from Ara's belt. "You care about what everyone thinks a little too much and you forget about your feelings. I think this is exactly what you two needed, she can process her grief like she wants to, and you do the same. Codependency between members of a good team is still toxic."

Ara rubs her nose with the back of her hand and leaves a smudge of dirt on it. "But when I leave her alone, all she does is get in her way."

Annabeth laughs. "Look who's talking!"

"That's not me!" She argues. "I've always gone after the things I want!"

"Have you considered that never stopping is just as bad as not moving?" The girl raises a brow. "Next time, Ara, try sitting down instead of... what was your last near-death experience?"

Ara pouts. "Are you implying I rather die than take a nap? Do you really think I'm that insane?"

"I grew up with you, I know you are. Which reminds me," Annabeth walks up to her and grabs her by the shoulders. "Talk to Percy. He's super bummed out. I don't know what happened but he hasn't seen you in months and now you don't wanna talk to him 'cause you're too busy coddling Leo."

"Percy has you to coddle him," Ara replies grumpily.

"But you're his sister," her friend insists. "Girlfriends and boyfriends are good, but you two need each other. I know it because I know you both." Something behind Ara catches Annabeth's eye. She squints. "Blackjack?"

"Wait—wait," I start pacing the room. "Leo and I... are Helen and Paris?"

The statement sounds like something I'd say on my deathbed if I were in a soap opera. But my mom shrugs like this isn't news to her.

"Your soul once inhabited Helen's body, which is not the same as being her. You're Arae Jackson, the current curse bearer."

"But I was Helen of Troy once," I repeat numbly. "And Leo was Paris the loser."

Aphrodite gasps. "He wasn't a loser! He was one of the best romantic leads of ancient times! And that boy you love is carrying his curse!"

I wave my hand around to dismiss that. "Fine. Let's say we are, because why the Tartarus not, right? I died and was born again—and what, I found Leo and then... and then..."

I stop. It's been so long since I had those dreams that I'd almost forgotten about them, but now they're back all at once.

"Agape," I whisper, my heart pounding as I speak. "All those people in my dreams... they were all Leo?"

"Oh, you have regressions?" Aphrodite beams. "How lovely!"

"That's what they are?" I frown.

"Well, when a soul has been around for too long, they develop a slight immunity to the Lethe's powers, it creates a crevice in the mind. Some humans get to dream about their past lives, or they spend their first years with those memories until they're old enough to become a new person."

"But I..." I sit down slowly. "In all those... I'm never really with... Leo."

It's weird to pinpoint all those faces to a single name.

The second realization hits me like a train: In some of my dreams, I've gotten this feeling, like a part of me knows I died too soon. My hands go up and over my mouth, but they can't stop me from talking.

"Oenone's curse... kills us?"

Aphrodite looks away. "At first, I loved it. A nymph's heart so broken that marked several lifetimes, how romantic! I thought it'd be one of those petty curses that lasted one lifetime, then the arai would let you go... but you came back and found each other. And it happened again, exactly like the first time."

"Why do you say it like it's a bad thing?" I hesitate. "Shouldn't you be glad that I'm still fighting against it?"

"Each time, you live blindly," she tells me. "There was a time when you could've chosen to stay dead and wander the Asphodels fields for eternity, but you came back, and the arai like to play with you."

"We keep making the same mistakes..." Suddenly I feel exhausted, like all the centuries my soul has lived through are finally weighing on me.

Aphrodite seems genuinely sad. "I think it's because you keep dying young. You never grew out of that youthful optimism, convinced that you'll break the curse on your next try." She leans and holds my hands tightly. "But I think this time you made the right choice when you came back, my dear."

"What? Why?" I'm unable to release my hands.

"The fates have granted you a chance," she cups my face. "They gave you a prophecy."

"My prophecy's about Oenone's curse?"

"I'm sure of it!" My surroundings start to get fuzzy, I'm starting to wake up. "You've failed too many times, Ara, don't do it again!"

When Piper arrives with Percy and Jason both unconscious, Ara heaves a sigh and carries them to the sick bay with Coach's help.

"At this rate, we're going to run out of ambrosia," he groans while helping Ara to patch up the boys. "How come I never get invited on these violent trips?"

"'Cause I don't have enough stuff to put your limbs back in place," Ara grumbles.

"Leo, are we ready to sail?" Piper asks.

"Yeah, but—"

"Set course for Atlanta. I'll explain later."

"But..." He sees the urgency in the girl's eyes and gives in. "Okay."

"What hit him?" Annabeth examines Percy's injury and winces.

"Blackjack."

"What?"

"They got possessed, just like Leo," Piper explains. "Fought each other and would've probably died in the process if Blackjack hadn't shown up."

By the time she finishes the story, Jason and Percy are awake but still out of it. They don't remember much, and they can't get up either.

"Knocked out twice in two days. Some demigod." Jason makes a face when he looks at Percy. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to blast you."

Percy's body isn't as hurt as Ara's when she got hit by lightning, probably because he's more resilient. "Not the first time. Your big sister got me good once at camp."

Ara smiles while she puts away the unused bandages. "Same year I met Apollo."

"And Nico," Percy reminds her.

"Couldn't be a perfect year."

"Yeah, but..." Jason shifts awkwardly. "I could have killed you."

"Or I could have killed you," Percy replies.

"If there'd been an ocean in Kansas, maybe."

"I don't need an ocean—"

"Boys, I'm sure you both would've been wonderful at killing each other. But right now, you need some rest," Annabeth says.

"Food first," Percy sighs. "Please? And we really need to talk. Bacchus said some things that don't—"

"Bacchus?" Annabeth interrupts him. "Okay, fine. We need to talk. Mess hall. Ten minutes. I'll tell the others. And please, Percy... change your clothes. You smell like you've been run over by an electric horse."

Ara moves to the side so Annabeth can leave. Piper stays for a few more minutes and then takes Jason away to get him changed. Percy and Ara are left alone.

"You're lucky Blackjack didn't kick right through your hollow skull," she taunts him. "Mom would've killed me if all I'd brought back was a jigsaw of her son."

"Yeah, not ideal..." he rubs the back of his neck. "How is she? And Paul?"

"Worried, but when we located you, things got better. Not much, but they improved a bit. Dad decided to make repairs so Leo could visit more and—"

"Leo knows our parents?"

Ara leans against a cabinet and crosses her arms. "I told you, Percy, we've been dating for half a year. Everyone back home knows him."

He runs a hand through his hair, touches the bump at the back, and winces. "Crap. Does that mean you were thrown to the lake already?"

Ara wrinkles her nose. "Yeah, it was cold."

"Aw, man," he pouts and leans against the wall. "You hate the cold. Can't believe I missed it!"

"But you're back, and you'll be present at other stuff—and now that you've been possessed you'll cut Leo some slack, right?"

He sighs, pulling on the loose strands of his battered shirt. "Yeah, being possessed isn't fun."

She pats his knee with affection. "Let's get you changed."

He groans as he gets on his feet. "So how'd you two meet?"

"That's a fun story," she smiles. "I was looking for you with Annabeth, she'd had a dream the night before..."

As they make their way through the corridors, the stairs, and towards the cabins, Ara tells him about the first encounter she had with Leo, how bad it went, and then how it didn't matter because Leo still won her over.

Percy's sad that he couldn't witness the whole thing, and he'll have to ask Lily for details later. The girl's name causes Ara's gaze to shift for a brief second. Percy notices her expression and pauses. "What's wrong?"

"Lily and I fought," she confesses. "And now that Nico's been taken, if I don't get him on time... She might never speak to me again."

Percy squeezes her shoulder. "So that's what's been bothering you this whole time?"

"Not exactly..." Ara makes a face. "I'm sorry I was mean to you—"

"I wasn't any better..."

"You don't want me to get hurt," she says with understanding. "I get it, but my relationship with Leo is the one thing I can control, and I need to feel in control. When you questioned it, I got angry."

"Well, it happens to all of us," he pats her head. "No need to ruffle your feathers over it, Birdy. We'll rescue Nico."

Ara scowls. "Again."

"Again," Percy chuckles and guides her out of the room. "Hasn't been that many times though..."

"Speak for yourself," she scoffs.

Next Chapter –>

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @asnyox-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen @orbitingpolaris @obxstiles @ellipsisspelled @thepixiechicks

#twoidiots writing #percy jackson and the olympians #heroes of olympus #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #doo

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