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laligraves · 6 months ago

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morning run

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~ 2.8k summary: Joel overhears your argument with the neighbor. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading, Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, Joel lives in a wealthy neighborhood with an HOA (homeowners association), no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, somewhat public setting, breeding kink (kinda), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

“These HOA people are vultures,” your sister mutters.

You look up from your laptop and watch out the window as the committee leaves on their golf cart, most likely on their way to torment another house on the block.

“Is it that big of a deal that my flower garden has the wrong color of roses?”

“There’s a wrong color of roses?” you ask in confusion.

“Yes! The president of the HOA, Susan,” you sister spits out in disdain, “only wants light pink roses on this block.”

She slams the written warning on the entrance table and storms off into the kitchen. “I’m not sure how her husband stands her. I guess that’s why he spends so much time at the golf course.”

You follow her into the kitchen, partly because you want a break from your assignments and also because you want to hear more gossip about her new neighborhood.

“You know she made me pay a fine because my car was left on the driveway after hours? It’s my driveway!”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise. “Suddenly, I’m not so jealous about your new place.”

She throws a sponge at your head.

“Why don’t you just say no?” you ask as you narrowly dodge the sponge.

“I’ve tried so hard to be nice to everyone here. But all Susan does is turn people against me. Everytime I walk outside to grab the mail or go to work, people give me dirty looks!”

You don’t like seeing your sister like this. It’s her home. One she worked very hard to buy in this wealthy neighborhood. No one has the right to make her feel like an outsider. So you develop a plan.

You find out Susan’s schedule fairly easily. Every morning at 8 a.m. she walks her husband to his car and kisses him goodbye before he leaves for work. She then walks back inside for her notebook and pen to then walk around the neighborhood.

She stops at every house to ensure it fits her standards and if they don’t, she leaves a written warning on the front door. During the weekends, she and her gang of friends drive around on a golf cart to give out even more citations.

So at exactly 7:55 A.M., you make your way to her house. You’re careful in the outfit you chose this morning: a tight sports bra and running shorts. She, and most importantly her husband, are definitely going to notice you.

You slow down as you round the corner, already seeing her husband place his briefcase in the backseat of his beamer. She walks right behind him with a lunch pail and kisses his cheek. You shout out a good morning and watch as they both turn to look at you.

Her right eye immediately begins to twitch and she plasters on a fake smile. His eyes do an appreciative sweep of your body as he walks to the end of the driveway.

“Good morning! Susan,” he says turning to his wife, “why didn’t you tell me we had a new neighbor?”

He grasps your hand and gives it a firm shake. His thumb caresses the back of your hand as he slowly lets go. Susan finally reaches the both of you and grabs onto her husband's arm to pull him away.

You give him a sweet smile, pushing your chest out in a calculated move so he has no choice but to look.

“I’m just visiting my sister over on Ocean Avenue. The neighborhood is so nice I thought it would be perfect for my morning runs.”

“I agree, you can run anytime you want–”

“Sweetie,” Susan interrupts in a high-pitched voice, “you’re going to be late.”

He asks for your name and what you’re studying in college, then shakes your hand again while Susan seethes next to the driver’s side door. He drives off, promising a tour of the country club later that day. You're left standing alone with Susan, just as you wanted.

“Look here, young lady,” she snarls, “this is a neighborhood full of families. Not some frat house. We do not allow blatant displays of–of–well this ,” she says as she motions to your workout attire. “I am going to write your sister a citation for this disrespectful action.”

“Well, that does make me sad. I guess I’ll have to ask your husband to cheer me up later when I visit him.”

Her face turns beet red and you wonder briefly if steam will come out of her ears. “What did you just say?”

“Your husband was so nice in inviting me to the country club, how can I say no? I really need to work on my swing–”

“You stay away from my husband,” she whispers, pointing a finger at your face, “or I will find a way to run your sister out of this neighborhood.”

“Leave my sister alone,” you say as you walk right up to her and push her finger out of the way, “or I’ll fuck your husband.”

Susan gasps, dramatically placing a hand over her mouth.

“I’ll make sure he finishes inside me, too. Maybe give him a baby.”

With that, you continue your jog down the sidewalk. You don’t notice Susan’s neighbor, who stands by his gate and watches you run off.

You continue your jogs for the next few days, waving at Susan and her husband every morning. You and Susan come to an unspoken agreement: she stops bothering your sister and you make sure to stay away from her husband.

Just as you jog past her house, you notice an envelope on the sidewalk. It’s next to a brick mailbox that has the name Miller written on a plaque. You check the envelope and sure enough you see it's made out to a Joel Miller .

You walk up to the iron gate that matches the address and call out a hello , but no one answers. There’s red roses that wrap around the expansive gate which look and smell beautiful, but block your view inside. You test the handle of the gate and luckily it opens.

“They must’ve dropped it when getting the mail this morning,” you mumble to yourself.

“Mornin’, doll,” a gruff voice calls out to your right.

You jump slightly and turn to look, finding a man crouched by the gate. He stands to his full height and you have to tilt your head up just so you can keep eye contact.

“Good morning,” you whisper.

He’s older and handsome, much more attractive than the college boys you're used to. He places his gardening shears down and takes off his gloves to shake your hand. You do your best to control the shiver that courses through your body at the touch of his warm skin.

“Joel,” he states, swiping his other hand through his salt and pepper hair.

You open your mouth to say your name, but he beats you to it.

“How did you know–”

“I heard your conversation with Susan the other day,” Joel interrupts with a slight smirk.

His hand tightens for a moment until he lets go, dragging his fingers over your palm. You feel embarrassment wash over your body and you quickly hand him the envelope.

“Right–um, how much of the conversation did you hear?”

He lets out a laugh and drops the envelope into a basket that you’ve now just noticed. It’s full of the same red roses that cover his gate.

“Just the part where you threatened to fuck her husband if she didn’t leave your sister alone,” he says, placing his hands on his hips. “Effective threat, it seems.”

His eyes sweep over your body and you become hyper aware of the workout clothes you're wearing. Once again, a sports bra and running shorts.

“She’s backed down,” you say after a few moments, crossing your arms to cover your pebbling nipples.

“So,” he continues while walking closer, “you offerin’ to fuck every man on the block or just her’s?”

His words send a shock wave through your body, landing right between your legs. You ignore the pulsing in your cunt and instead lift your hand to slap him across the face.

As if he’s able to sense what you’re about to do, he catches your wrist before your hand makes contact with his face.

“How dare you–”

“Don’t act so innocent now,” he growls, pushing your body against the gate. “You told Susan you were going to let ‘em fill you up. Put a baby inside of you.”

Your back makes contact with the gate, luckily in a place where there’s no thorns. You try to push out of his hold, confused at how much you enjoy being manhandled by an older man you just met.

“Let me go or I’ll scream–”

“Joel?” a familiar high-pitched voice interrupts you. “Are you there?”

Your body stills at the sound of Susan’s voice. Theoretically, you could use this opportunity to scream for help. Sure, you’d have to face Susan again, but you’d be able to escape.

Except, Joel manages to pick up your lower body and push his jean-covered cock right against your cunt. You wrap your legs around his waist to not fall and place one hand on the iron gate behind you.

He rocks against you, moving a finger in front of his mouth, motioning you to stay quiet. Your mouth drops open in surprise as he grabs your hips and begins to grind you down on him.

“Yes, ma’am. What can I help you with?” Joel responds.

She tries to open the gate and you press your body back so she won’t see you. You’re not quite sure why you’re trying to hide.

“Joel, honey. Your gate is locked,” she says. “Come unlock it and let me in.”

Through your daze, you faintly register her tone. Did she just call him honey?

“Sorry, Susan. It does that sometimes. I’ve got my hands full at the moment,” Joel calls out, giving you another hard thrust.

You bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to escape.

“That’s okay, I just wanted to stop by and warn you about the young lady that’s staying with her sister over on Ocean Avenue.”

Joel raises his eyebrow and stops his movements, dropping your thighs from his hold. You're shocked again, feeling dejected that he’s stopping.

He quickly spins you around and bends you over, pushing a hand between your thighs. You grab onto the iron gate once more and slap a hand over your mouth as he begins to rub a big hand over your thin shorts.

“Warn me?” he calls out. “What’s this young lady been up to?”

“Well, that–that– tramp ,” Susan spits out, “is acting in ways that she shouldn’t. I know you’re a hardworking man who has done so much for our community and the last thing I want is this girl making you uncomfortable.”

Joel yanks down your shorts and plunges a thick finger inside of you. You’d roll your eyes at her words but instead they're rolling into the back of your skull. He thrusts his finger a few times and calls out a is that right to Susan.

Joel adds another finger and you almost fall at the stretch. If those are just his fingers, you wonder how big his cock is. He uses his other hand to keep you steady and continues to fuck you with his thick fingers while talking to her.

“I just,” Susan continues, “I don’t know what to do. Maybe we can find a way for the sister to leave? If we all band together?”

Joel removes his hand from between your legs and places it on your back to keep you in place. This time you actually struggle in his hold, wanting to face Susan and give her a piece of your mind.

“Now, Susan,” Joel admonishes, “don’t go blaming the sister for the younger one’s actions. There’s no need to be spiteful to our new neighbor. There’s more than enough room in this neighborhood for everyone.”

You stop, surprised that Joel is standing up for your sister. He presses against you and you feel the roughness of his jeans on your bare skin. He brings you in close, gently rubbing his crotch on your slick cunt.

“Oh, you’re so right, Joel. I just get so caught up in the politics of the HOA. I want this community to be perfect.”

A wet glob of spit lands on your asshole and you clench in surprise. Joel quietly unzips his jeans and takes out his cock.

“Fucking perfect little asshole,” he whispers, pushing the tip of his cock right on your hole. “Not today, baby. Today is that juicy, little cunt.”

You arch your back and barely manage to stifle a whimper when he teases the tip of your entrance.

“What was that, Joel?” Susan calls out.

“That the community is already perfect, Susan.”

His voice sounds annoyed at this point.

“You think so, Joel? Thank you, I–”

Joel uses that moment to plunge inside of you, bumping your g-spot and reaching so deep that you choke on your own spit.

“I’m getting a call, Susan,” Joel says through gritted teeth, “I’ll speak to you later.”

Susan gives a sad goodbye while you bite on your hand to stop your moans. Joel is big, much bigger than any of the boys in your past. Your pussy spasms and flutters over his length and you breathe in deep to adjust to the size.

“S’tight,” he mutters, ”keep quiet f’me, doll. Too many people on the sidewalk at this time of mornin’.”

You hum in response, wanting him to fuck you, to stretch you and make you come on his cock. He starts a rhythm, keeping one hand on your waist so you match his thrusts and the other slips between your thighs.

Sticky wetness drips down your inner thighs and he swipes two fingers through the mess to bring them up to your clit. Joel pistons faster, rubbing harsh circles on your clit that have you accidently whimpering in pleasure.

“I know, baby,” he coos, “feels so good, doesn’t it?”

“ Y–yes ,” you whisper.

“Showing off that pretty body when runnin’ around the neighborhood,” he groans. “Picking fights and trespassing. Just needed someone to fuck some manners into you.”

Your fingers curl into the iron gate and your back arches even deeper. He speeds up, becomes harsher in his thrusts once he notices your pussy become softer, wetter, gripping his cock with each plunge.

“Little cunt can barely take my cock,” Joel groans, “fuck, doll. You’re choking me.”

You wish you could bite his neck, leave red hickeys on his tan skin that you imagine tastes like salt and roses and spearmint. Your head spins from lust and you feel the coil in your belly, ready to burst at any moment.

You hear voices, people walking past on the sidewalk for some early morning exercise. Joel lands a quick slap, slap to your clit and your cumming, clenching hard on his length while you fall apart.

Your vision blurs and you faintly hear him say there you go, make a fuckin’ mess on me . Wetness spills from your cunt, only making it easier for Joel. You bite hard on your bottom lip to stop the whimpers and your fingers curl into the iron gate.

“Gonna cum inside this pussy, put a baby in there,” he whispers.

“ Please, Joel,” you whine.

He brings your back to his chest, molds his lips to your neck and bites down, moving you like his personal fleshlight. Joel groans in your shoulder and then you feel it, hot pulses of cum, filling you up.

You hold onto his arm that's branded across your chest and squeeze down on him, milking every drop from his body, wanting it to mark you deep inside.

Joel's body trembles from the exertion and he stumbles as he finishes, turning his body to lean on the iron gate with you still attached to his cock.

He keeps you pressed to him for a few moments, keeping his nose pressed to your neck as he breathes deep. Your own breathing regulates and you become aware of the sensitivity all over your body.

Joel stands straight and gently pulls out. He reaches into his jeans pocket to reach for a clean handkerchief that he uses to clean up between your thighs.

"Same time tomorrow?" he asks.

You manage a rough fuck off and lightly push at his shoulders. He laughs and helps you fix your clothes. He swipes your phone that fell on the ground the moment he pushed you to the gate, having you unlock it so he can put in his phone number.

You make it back home a few minutes later, sore but for the most part, satiated . Your sister gets home hours later, once you've relaxed in her ginormous bathtub and washed away the evidence of your morning run.

"Are you seeing someone?" she teases as she walks in.

"What? No, why?"

"Someone left a giant bouquet of red roses on the porch."

Sure enough, you find a bouquet of familiar red roses on the front doorstep. You don’t need a notecard to know who they're from.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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hollandsangel · 9 months ago

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move over | m. sturniolo

okAY here we go this is my first sturniolo fic please be nice to me i am afraid

ps if you’d like to be tagged in any (possible) future fics comment 🍜

summary: matt needs a bigger bed

wc: 1k

warnings: matt x fem!reader, cursing, nightmares? no description really, just funny and fluffy 🫡 all the triplets are in it but reader is dating matt!

..does anyone remember that one video where matt said chris never sleeps in his own bed? well…

gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !

you feel yourself slipping back into consciousness, and you can tell from the soft, pale blue light of matt’s bedroom that it’s morning. matt’s fast asleep behind you, resting on his stomach with you tucked up into his side, his right arm slung over your waist. you’re already upset that you have to pee, the idea of crawling out of the sleep-warm bed and leaving your boyfriend’s cozy embrace is not an appealing one, but the nagging in your bladder won’t go away.

with a sleepy sigh you stretch your arm out just enough to the tap the screen of your phone, the numbers 8:23 glaring back you. you still don’t have to be up for another hour and a half, which you think is an acceptable amount of time left to lay in matt’s arms and snooze a bit more, even if you don’t really need anymore sleep.

it’s a bit tricky to clamber out of bed without waking the sleeping boy next to you. trying to keep from dragging the duvet with you when you slide out. you tuck matt back in properly before you wander off to his bathroom. softly, you click the door shut, and it, along with your sleep-hazy mind, muffles any sounds coming from outside the bathroom.

for once, chris slept in his own bed, knowing you’d be sleeping over and nick was editing the video meant to go up later this afternoon early into the morning. it’s too early for him to be waking up on his own but something stirs him into wakefulness, his heart beating a little faster than it should be.

matt had woken up for a mere second when you slipped out of bed and hasn’t fallen back into the depth of his sleep, waiting for you to come back. he’s just barley alert enough to hear shuffling from down the hall, getting louder until the person responsible is standing at the crack in the door.

“matt?” chris whispers, peeking into the bedroom.

matt groans and rolls over just until he can see his brother over his shoulder, “what, chris?”

“i had a fucked up dream, dude,” chris says, padding further into the room, “where’s y/n?”

matt turns a little closer to his brother, facing him now, “bathroom,” he mumbles, “what was it about?”

chris is still standing in the middle of the room, phone held loosely in his hand, “you got into a fuckin’ car accident, a really bad one” he admits, feeling a bit foolish and juvenile for running to his brother after a bad dream, “can i sleep in here?”

matt’s face softens and he rubs his eye, “yeah, ‘course.” he says, watching chris slowly walk towards the bed, “that’s her side,” he says though when chris tries to lay where you had been.

chris fakes a scowl and matt makes a face back, sleep still tugging at his mind. the two of them lay back down, back to back, tugging the covers over their shoulders.

you finish washing your hands and shut off the bathroom light. rubbing at your eyes, you make your way back to matt’s room, looking forward to sleeping a bit longer. upon wandering in you’re met with more than one body under the blankets, making you stop in your tracks.

“chris?” you wonder outloud, stopped in the door way.

matt answers before his brother can, “he had a bad dream,” he explains to you, face smushed into the pillow, leaving the words all muffled and extra groggy.

“sure,” you say, as if chris sleeping in matt’s bed doesn’t surprise you (it doesn’t). dragging your feet over to your side of the bed to matt, where he’s taking up a bit too much room. “move over,” you tell him when he peels the blankets back for you. he shuffles back with a little too much effort and you climb back into bed.

once you’re settled matt scoots a little bit closer to you to make more room for the three people now in his queen sized bed, but also because he never passes up an excuse to hold you a little tighter.

you doze in and out, matt’s soft breath against your neck keeping you a little bit dazed but not quite enough to lull you back to sleep fully. it must be nearing 10 am now, more bright sun spilling in from the cracks in the curtains above the bed. you think chris is awake too, hearing breathy little chuckles every now and then. you reach for your phone, deciding on a mindless scroll through instagram.

after a few minutes it sounds like nick has also woken up, his footsteps audible in the bedroom above. you hear him coming down the stairs, and you think he stops in the kitchen until his voice fills the quiet halls.

“chris?” he asks, standing in his brother’s empty bedroom, confused as to why he’s not in bed.

“in here,” chris speaks up, waiting for nick to press the door open.

he does, standing at arms length with a skeptical look on his face, almost afraid of what he might find. “um…hello, what are you doing in here?” nick asks, finally crossing the threshold.

“he had a bad dream,” matt says into your shoulder, startling you. you didn’t know he was awake.

“i had a bad dwream,” chris says in that stupid pouty voice that drives all of you insane, no doubt looking at nick with puppy dog eyes.

“oh…kay,” nick says and you laugh at the suspicion still evident in his tone.

“did you see the tik tok i sent you?” chris is laughing but stops abruptly when matt kicks him in the calf, which makes you giggle into your boyfriend’s arm.

“yeah, but i’m a bit more preoccupied with the absurdity of the three of you in matt’s bed right now,” nick says in his distinct deadpan drawl, which only makes you smile more.

“c’mon nick you might as well join us,” you say, earning a loud, over exaggerated groan from matt, his arms tightening around your waist.

you think nick must oblige because he doesn’t say anything for a second, coming closer to the bed.

“move over, dummy fuck,” he says to chris, who laughs out loud and scoots closer to matt.

“i hate them,” matt whispers in your ear.

tags! @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo drabble #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x you

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criminalamnesia · 2 months ago

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Traitor part 8

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

here it is everyone :)) took me forever but it’s finally here! now I can disappear in peace lol. I’ll proofread everything later, but I hope this lives up to everyone’s expectations. thank you all for the love you’ve given this series. I hope this gives you some closure.

let me know if you want any drabbles from the series <3

thank you again!

after kyle finally leaves you alone, you slink back against the door, shutting your eyes so tightly stars dot your vision.

it never ends, does it?

apologies. worry. sympathy. pity.

it was in each of their eyes— the one-four-one. each of them trying to mask their pity for you behind sickening sympathy. you were exhausted of that look— not just from them, but from everyone you had walked past or looked at since everything had happened.

you open your eyes, scanning the room. what once had been a haven had become a hell. shattered glass sprinkled the floor near the mirror. clothes were still strewn about. you hadn’t bothered picking up what had been disturbed.

you’d be gone too soon for it to matter.

your phone rings then, the screen lighting up in the dimly lit room. you let the ring tone play for a second longer before you’re moving, reaching for the device on your nightstand.

it’s kate, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

“hello?” you say as you answer the call.

“it’s kate,” comes the woman’s familiar voice through the speaker. “im on my way to base. should be there by tomorrow.”

you startle, eyebrows raising in confusion. “you’re coming here? why?”

you hear her sigh. “we can talk about it tomorrow. I need to meet with john, anyways. two birds, one stone and all that.” she tells you.

“can you at least tell me if the paper work is all set for my transfer?” you ask.

she doesn’t answer for a moment, and then:

“we’ll talk about it tomorrow, sergeant. get some rest. you sound like you need it.”

you hear a click, and then the line goes dead. you furrow your brows as you look down at the phone in your hand.

why on earth would she come all the way here just to talk?

your mind is moving a mile a minute, and suddenly, it clicks.

laswell is coming here to do damage control.

you huff a mirthless laugh, dropping your phone as your hands come up to run through your hair.

you weren’t being reassigned. you were being discharged.

but was it at her insistence, or someone else’s?

you whip around, wrenching open the door and storming down the hall to price’s office. those you pass in the hallway give you bewildered stares, and suddenly you’re aware that you’re still in that damned robe, but you’re on a mission.

and when you start something, you see it through.

you don’t bother knocking as you reach price’s door. instead, you barge into the office, effectively interrupting an argument between price and simon. their voices die off, heads turning to appraise who had barged in.

price’s eyes widen at the sight of you, but simon’s face is as unreadable as always. the door clicks shut behind you, and you stalk towards the two men, your fists clenched as you seethe.

“you motherfuckers,” you hurl the words at them, “you fucking knew. you knew.”

“love, what are you talkin’ about?” price questions, his brows furrowed as he turns to you.

“laswell,” you say, and price’s eyes widen. he knows. and now he knows you know.

“whatever she told you—”

“she didn’t tell me shit,” you huff. “I figured it out. why the fuck else would she come here just to talk? she’s playing fucking babysitter, isn’t she?”

price doesn’t speak. your gaze flits to simon’s.

“I’m sure you were rooting for this outcome, weren’t you? couldn’t finish me off in that fucking room, but hey, this is just as good, isn’t it? sending me back to fucking nothing.”

“this job is my life,” you turn your attention back to the captain. “and you fuckers just can’t stop ruining it, can you?” your voice is raising, and tears prick the corners of your eyes. you’re becoming hysteric.

“all because of a fucking lie!” you’re yelling now, jabbing a finger into the chest of your former captain.

“calm down,” the sound of simon’s rough baritone leads your head to snap toward him. your eyes are wide, fury and terror blazing in them.

and he expects you to let loose. scream and hit and scream some more. but you don’t.

you stand there and you stare at him with those wide eyes. the rest of the room— hell, the world falls away— and it’s just him and you.

like it was on patrol during countless nights, your bare fingers dancing over his gloved hands as you prattled on about a show you liked.

on countless nights curled up in his bed, your back to him, pressed so close he could feel the beat of your heart in his own chest. his arms wrapped around you, one of your fingers lazily tracing the ink on his forearm. no words spoken, yet so much said.

in the field, when you and johnny bicker over comms and he takes your side. when you take a bullet to the shoulder and he holds pressure on it until evac arrives.

when he makes eye contact with you as you pin kyle to the training mat, finally able to overcome his strength. when price tells him you’re the rat and he doesn’t want to believe it.

it’s just him and you. a lieutenant and his sergeant. but it’s more than that.

it’s a deep understanding of this job being your life. of losing everything and everyone you hold dear. of finding family again in this team, and doing whatever it takes to keep that family safe.

and he fully realizes, then, what you have been condemned to.

what they condemned you to.

what he condemned you to.

he breaks from his thoughts as you slam your fist into his jaw.

price’s eyes widen, his feet carrying him forward to intervene, but simon waves him off as he cradles a hand to his jaw.

“let ‘em,” he grunts out, and price looks bewildered, but he nods. he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides, and he lets you strike again.

“fuck you,” you seethe, and despite your best efforts, your voice cracks. emotion seeps in, and your eyes are wet as you swipe a leg out from under him, forcing him to his knees.

he falls with no grace, knees hitting the concrete floor with a dull thud. you’d cringe if this were any other circumstance.

instead, you deliver another blow, cracking his nose with the force of it. blood sprays out and wets your robe.

“ghost—” price begins from somewhere off to the side, but simon just shakes his head.

“fuck you, simon! fuck you!” you scream at him, and your fists are flying blindly as tears cloud your eyes.

and he just takes the hits. you subconsciously register the sound of the office door squeaking as it opens and quickly closes. price didn’t want to be a bystander any longer, it seems.

but he still didn’t jump in. was it because of ghost’s insistence? or because your captain didn’t want to watch one of his soldiers finally snap?

you finally stop yourself when blood drips from your knuckles. unsurprisingly, they’ve split again. there’s no doubt in your mind that there will be little scars between each of them once they’ve healed.

more to add to the reminder of everything. god, at this point you knew you’d never forget it even if you wanted to. even if you tried to. even if you did for a brief moment, those little white lines— discolored and jagged skin in the place of what should be smooth and unmarred, would be your reminder.

blood pools on the floor, a mix of yours and simon’s. you pay it no mind as you wipe the backs of your hands on your completely ruined robe. good— now you had a great excuse to throw the damned thing away.

you would’ve thrown it away anyways.

you bring your hands to your eyes, wiping away tears that had freed themselves their cage. you see simon clearly then, his face bloodied and yet still beautiful in that way of his. his nose is obviously broken. lacerations above his eye and on his cheekbones.

his eyes are staring back you, the icy blue of them never more intense than now.

you heave in your breaths as you look at him. his split lip cracks further as he opens his mouth.

“done?”

and you don’t have anything left to give, so you nod. then you slump to your knees, down onto his level, and you don’t look away from what you’ve done.

it’s no different than what you did to the doctor, or to countless enemies in the field. but, at the same time, it is different.

because it’s him, and he let you do this. he could have easily stopped you. he’d shown his strength against you numerous times on the sparring mat, picking you up and tossing you around with ease.

and yet he didn’t stop you.

“why?” you ask him, and it’s a loaded question. your voice is a watery tremble, and the word comes out as a whisper, but he doesn’t shy away.

he shrugs. “you needed it.”

he’s focusing on one aspect of the question— on why he let you hit him. you open your mouth to respond, but he surprises you by speaking again.

“least I could do,” he says.

you close your mouth, your chapped lips pressed into a thin line. why is he doing this now? saying this now? what changed?

“is it your fault, then? that I’m being discharged?” you find yourself asking, and you’re not sure if you want to know the answer.

maybe you just want a reason to hate him more.

“no,” he says, and you know he means it.

he never lied to you, regardless of any pain it may have saved. it was one of the things you had loved about him.

he sighs. “I didn’t want you to go.”

that surprises you. simon was never one to freely speak on his feelings. he had opened up to you during your relationship, but it was as if there was always an invisible line he could never cross. never did he utter the complete truth to his thoughts or feelings. and you had accepted that— because that is who he was.

and you would take him with all his walls if it just meant that you could have him.

“I don’t want you to.” he corrects himself.

the room falls silent around you. the part of you that still holds love for him yearns for his embrace at this moment. but you push that side of you down. you will not go crawling back, not after what happened.

“you’ve been an asshole,” you say, and he gives a curt nod.

“probably.” he concedes. “but I wouldn’ take anythin’ back. I told you, I meant what I said.”

“is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask. god, he has a horrible way with words.

“no,” he tells you. “nothin’ I can say can do that.”

you snort. you fall back on you haunches, your hands in your lap as you look at him.

“I am never going to forgive you,” you tell him, words full of so much hurt.

he nods again. “I know. I don’ blame you. don’ expect you to, neither.”

“but I’m…” he starts, and his lips crease in a frown. “im sorry.”

you just look at him. perhaps you had wanted an apology at one moment in time, but now? now none of it mattered.

“I hope so,” you tell him. you move to stand, and he remains still. he hasn’t moved an inch since you’d finished your assault.

“I hope you feel this way for the rest of your lonely life. I hope that you never forget what you did to me, and I hope that it keeps you up at night. because I can tell you with certainty that I will never forget. and I hope the others remember, too. I hope it tears you all apart from the inside. that it follows you around for the rest of your career.”

you breathe in, then out. “and I hope no one ever gives you the chances I did,” your voice is soft. “because I would never wish what you did to me on the next person you think you love.”

his face conveys no emotion other than the small frown still on his lips. his eyes, so cold, have softened the tiniest bit. you used to love when you could bring out that softness inside of him. when it was just the two of you, your hand in his, his eyes on you.

those memories would suffocate you if you let them. what could’ve been will suffocate you. you refuse to let it.

you turn and stalk towards the door, not bothering to spare him another glance. you open it, stepping out into the hallway, coming face-to-face with the rest of the one-four-one.

their eyes are all wide as they take you in. your bloodied hands and robe. the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. you pull the door shut behind you before you speak.

“i don’t care to speak to kate,” you say to price, your eyes meeting his. “fuck her for not giving me a chance. and fuck you for laying down like a damn dog and not fighting for your fucking team.”

you turn to johnny next. “you shove your sorries up your ass, mactavish. I don’t want your sympathy, and I don’t want your pity. I hope your regret eats you alive.”

finally, kyle. “and you,” you glare at him. “if anyone other than simon should’ve defended me, it should’ve been you. I met you first, kyle. you were my closest friend, my brother. and you turned out to be just another fucking lap dog.”

you shake your head, blinking away hot tears. “I want you to get me temporary housing and a car because that’s the least you owe me, after ruining my life. and I don’t want to hear from any of you ever again. if I do, I guarantee you I will not show you the mercy you think you showed me when you had me tied up in that chair.”

none of them spoke, and you didn’t give them a chance to as you pushed past them, heading back toward your room to change.

a yellow cab retrieves you from base the next morning before kate arrives. it’s still dark outside when you leave the shelter that had once been home. rain pours down around you, a raging storm hanging overhead as it had all night prior. perhaps it was a reflection of your mood. you liked to think that it was.

you toss your duffle bag into the trunk, shutting it before climbing into the back seat. you hadn’t bothered to pack anything other than a few pairs of clothes you’d recovered from the floor of your room. everything else could be trashed, especially anything the boys had given you.

the driver doesn’t speak— price had given him all the information he needed— and paid him— before he’d fetched you. it seems your final outburst— and beating simon to a pulp— had finally put some urgency in his movements.

none of them had seen you off, per your request. you thought it was the least they could do for you after continuously disrespecting your boundaries.

(unbeknownst to you, simon had watched you leave through a window.)

the driver turned up the music— some pop song you didn’t know the name of— and you slumped in your seat, your head turned toward the window as you watched the rain race down it.

you found yourself drifting off quickly, and you didn’t try to fight it. you’re finally free of that place and the men you thought were your family. free of the anxiety of seeing them around every corner. free of the hate that sparked in your heart every time you heard their voices.

you sleep, and for the first time since before everything, it’s peaceful.

you wake to the taxi driver talking to you.

“we’re here,” he says, knocking on the glass separating the front and back seats. “can you get out now? I gotta get home. it’s my wife’s birthday.”

you blink the sleep from your eyes, nodding before you even register what he’s saying. “sorry,” you mumble as you fumble with the seat belt.

you slip from the car, your boots splashing in a muddy puddle. you grimace as the murky water seeps in, wetting your socks.

you trudge around to the back of the car, opening the trunk and retrieving your bag. you’ve just shut the trunk and stepped back when the car is driving off, kicking up mud that further dirties your boots and jeans.

you pay it little mind as you look at the small cottage before you.

nestled between some trees, it’s beautiful. a shingled roof. light blue paneled siding. a small front porch with a rocking chair and a bench swing. a beautiful dark blue door.

your favorite flowers live in the flower beds surrounding what you can see of the house. it makes you wonder if its a simple coincidence or if simon or price planned it.

how long have they known that you would have to come here? that you would have no where else to go except for where they put you?

you vowed that this house would just be temporary. you would get away from it as soon as possible, putting the rest of the one-four-one behind you. you didn’t want any of them knowing where to find you.

the rain slows to a sad drizzle. drops prick your skin as you make no effort to avoid puddles, splashing carelessly to the front door. you can hear birds beginning to chirp, slipping out of their hiding places as the sun’s rays begin to illuminate the earth once more.

a new beginning, you think.

you reach a hand toward the door knob, twisting it open and pushing inside. it’s a cozy little place with wood floors and a brick fireplace. it’s furnished, but there’s no personality to it. it clearly hasn’t been somebody’s home.

the door clicks shut behind you as you toe off your boots and drop your duffle by the door. as you nudge your boots out of the way with a foot, you notice an envelope on the floor.

eyebrows scrunched in confusion, you lean down and scoop it up. your name is written on the front in a scrawl you don’t recognize.

who else knows you’re here?

perhaps you’ll need to leave sooner than you thought.

you push your thumb under the seam, ripping it open with little finesse. inside is a typed letter. it’s an offer, you realize. a job offer.

its got an american stamp on it, and its signed by a phillip graves.

a new beginning indeed.

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mrsbarnesblog · 5 months ago

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my girl

masterlist

requests are open

summary: even if you knew that you and Rafe were just hooking up, hearing his friend's comments about you, while you were preparing a venue for the event, hurt more than you expected it to

word count: 2k.

warnings: fwb (or smth like that) to lovers, mentions of sex but nothing explicit, Rafe's friends lol, swearing

a/n: soft Rafe is my weakness, I'm sorry. he's on my mind 24/7 and I literally don't know what to write

You were running around the outdoor venue with boxes full of pastry, where in a few hours there was going to be an annual celebration with lots of rich people. For some reason, Ward Cameron, who was paying for everything here, decided that your father’s small bakery was good enough to feed all of the kooks, so from the afternoon on, you were organizing tables to make everything look perfect.

The place itself looked truly magical—decorated with a lot of flower arrangements, lights and expensive furniture. It was located at Figure 8, so you obviously never had the opportunity to visit it before. It was Kook’s territory, and even with your family’s bakery, which was pretty popular on the island, you were not welcome here.

Just a few minutes ago, Ward himself came to the venue with Rafe and his son’s best friends in order to check how everything was going.

As soon as your eyes met Rafe’s, you both stopped for a few seconds, too shocked to see each other in a public place. What happened between you and Kook's prince was something that you had never expected to get into, yet here you were.

You didn’t know what got into you that one night, but out of nowhere, Rafe was talking to you, smiling, looking all sexy and without his usual cockiness, so you couldn’t resist him.

It wasn’t that you even regretted your decision; it just became more weird every single time you met because he wasn’t bad. Rafe Cameron wasn’t an asshole, which everyone made him seem to be. He was affectionate and surprisingly soft, always checking on you while you two were together and never pressuring you to leave. You wholeheartedly had to admit that it became more than just sex after a few weeks, no matter how hard you tried to deny it.

You were definitely not dating, mostly because he had never asked you to, but you two were always texting about random stuff, he would even pick you up to hang out at his secret spot on the beach, or just to simply sit in his truck with lots of food and talk. Part of you hated it, but Rafe made you feel so comfortable and safe around him so you were scared to push it and ask him what was happening between you.

Rafe’s eyes stayed fixated on you as his father, Kelce and Topper stood near him, looking around the venue and chatting. But he could not care less about it because his entire attention was drawn to you and how adorable you looked in your pink tennis skirt and simple white polo with the bakery's logo on it.

He may or may not be responsible for Ward’s choice of bakery to work with, because Rafe made sure to accidentally mention it a few times, knowing that it would be a good profit for your family. Yet, seeing you here slightly took him off guard, as the first thought that appeared in his head was to go up to you, flirt and make you blush, or just simply kiss you. But he couldn’t, right? At least not until he properly talked to you.

“Damn, she’s hot, even for a pogue. No wonder you hit it a few times, bro. I'd do it too.” The moment words left Topper’s mouth, Rafe’s heart dropped into his stomach. Kelce snickered, fistbumping Topper, and Rafe cursed himself for running his mouth. He really considered drowning his friends in the nearest lake.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Rafe seethed through gritted teeth, elbowing his friend.

“I would appreciate you both watching your language.” Ward sighed, wincing and rubbing a hand on his beard. He looked at Rafe, who completely ignored his questioning gaze while trying to figure out how to fix it.

Even with you standing with your back facing them, Rafe saw that you heard it too. Your hand froze in the air, still holding a cupcake, and your shoulders sagged in disappointment and hurt.

Only a few seconds later, you came back to your senses. Your back straightened, you finished decorating the table and you put empty boxes in the trash can. You turned around, showing the fakest smile Rafe had ever seen on your face. Your nails digged in your palm to control yourself, and you stepped closer to the four of them.

“Mr. Cameron, thank you for working with our bakery. It really means a lot for my family. I did everything and now the event manager should carry on. I, um, should go. I have a lot of stuff to do. Have a great night.” Your eyes were glossy, with tears clearly visible on your waterline. As you awkwardly and in a rush thanked Ward, you didn’t even look at Rafe or either of his friends, knowing damn well that it would break you.

You didn’t even wait for Ward’s response before storming off, trying to get as far away from these people as possible. Your chest felt too heavy, and the lump in your throat was so hard that you could barely speak. But you didn’t even walk a few feet away before a familiar hand wrapped around your wrist and made you turn around.

“What do you want from me?” You snapped at Rafe, trying to yank your hand out of his grip. “Don’t touch me, Rafe.”

“This is not what you think it is.” He said, searching for your eyes. His brows were knit together, and his eyes were big and round, almost in fear.

“Oh no? Isn’t it what I am to you? Just a hit. Just another one on your long list. Why are you bothering to explain anything to me anyway?” You laughed, barely able to hold back your tears. As if it were not enough that you cried in front of Rafe, neither his friends nor his father seemed to mind their own business, obviously listening to your conversation.

“No. You know that it was more for me, Y/N. I’m serious about you, okay? Topper just cannot filter his fucking mouth.”

“Stop doing it, Rafe!” You broke, not bothering to hide anymore. “Stop playing with my feelings when you know damn well that you won’t have anything serious with me. I’m not rich, I’m not a kook and I’m not like the prefect girls you usually hang out with. I get it, okay?” You yanked your hand out of his hold, not missing the way Rafe tried to catch it back. Wiping away hot and angry tears with the back of your hand, you look him right in the eyes. “I just wish you didn't give me hope in the first place, because I feel so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not stupid, Y/N. I don’t care about your money or your status, for that matter. I want you and I mean it. Just let me explain—”

"This is why you would not even speak to me in front of anyone, right? This is why we were always sneaking around. Because you want me, not because you’re too good to be around me.“ You confronted him, not even caring who could hear or see you. From the position where you were standing, you saw a bunch of young waitresses standing not so far away, pretending to work on the table but eyeing you and Rafe every second.

“I’m an asshole. I know it. I know that I didn’t put the label on us and that I fucked up, not doing the right thing.” He stepped closer to you, not breaking eye contact to show that he was sincere. "When Topper and Kelce saw me with you, I panicked and said the only thing that made sense: we were just hooking up. I didn’t want it to be that way, fuck…” Rafe screched the back of his neck in agitation.

“You should go back and stop embarrassing yourself talking with a pogue. I bet your friends found it entertaining. How much did you tell them, hm? Did you share every single detail of what we were doing?” Your voice broke at the end.

“I didn’t tell them anything!”

“Well, I don’t believe you, Rafe!” You sniffed, looking away to distract yourself from the look in Rafe’s eyes. His blue eyes were round, full of concern and it seemed like he was almost panicking. "I understand how guys like you talk about women, but I guess I was stupid enough to believe you would not do that to me. So yeah, you got what you wanted from me and now you can go back to—”

You were rumbling one moment, and the next, two hands pressed on your cheeks, tilting your head up, and Rafe's lips were on yours. You gasped, hands freezing in the air in shock, before slowly moving to Rafe’s shirt to tug on it.

He didn’t rush; he just firmly yet gently held you against him while his tongue slipped into your mouth, savoiring every second. It’s been just two days since you last seen each other, but God, you missed kissing him. Even if you wanted to move away, you couldn’t. Rafe's palms were on your face, guiding you, while his kiss made your head feel empty and light. He smelled and tasted so good and you hated how quickly you got used to the feeling of his touch on your skin.

“Everyone can see us.” You mumbled into his mouth.

“I don’t fucking care, Y/N.” He furrowed, still feeling the wetness on your cheeks from crying. With his thumbs gently rubbing your soft skin, he gave you a few quick kisses before continuing. "I swear, all I said to them was that we just hooked up, because it is what it was at that moment. I wouldn’t have shared anything intimate about you, baby. Please believe me when I say this.” Rafe sighed, resting his forehead on yours. His nose bumped against your—something that he started doing when you were alone in the bed, laying face to face and just looking at each other. "I am sorry I made you feel like you were just sex for me, because you weren't. Spending time with you was the best fucking time of my day, and whatever that was between us, I don’t want it to end.”

“Me neither…” You whispered, feeling warmth rushing through your body when Rafe wrapped his hands around your waist and pulled you even closer into him. He placed a kiss on the top of your head and then you felt him turning around, seemingly studying people around you.

“Since everyone saw us today, do you think I can take you away with me right now?”

“Take me away? But you have an event in a few hours, and I have to work.”

“No, now we have an event and we have to find you a dress. I’ll handle your work and find someone who can deliver your orders.” Your head snapped up, only to see a proud grin on Rafe's face.

“You’re joking, right?” You pulled away, laughing. “I don’t have such clothes nor do I have money to buy them, and I definitely wasn’t invited.”

“That’s why I’m taking you to the store now. And since you are my girl now, you’ll be my plus one.” He just shrugged, probably unaware that he had just filled your stomach with freaking butterflies.

“I’m your girl?”

Rafe silently looked you in the eyes for a few seconds, and it seemed like he was trying to reassure himself about something. His eyes then shifted to your lips, as he dragged you back to his body, lowering himself to mumble against your mouth. “Yeah, you are my girl.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe cameron imagine #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n

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moonstruckme · 3 months ago

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Thawing Out

summary: You and Sirius are in dire need of a new coach just weeks before the Olympics. Remus is a former figure skating prodigy forced to retire after a career-ending injury. Though it's not smooth skating right away, those stiff Olympic village beds are dying to be broken in.

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus still wakes before dark every morning. It’s automatic, an urgency and excitement that thrums through him like an old instinct, born from years of his alarm clock rousing him at this time. The rink is always at its best right now, when they’ve just finished resurfacing the ice and no one else is around. It was Remus’ favorite time to practice.

Now, he has a new reason to get up. His hip clicks as he does it, so he starts his day with a couple of proactive painkillers. If he really wanted to be proactive he would stretch like he’s supposed to, but there’s no time and Remus doesn’t feel like it. He’ll pay his toll for the negligence later.

The webpage of his Airbnb boasted a five-minute walk to the rink, but with his hip it takes Remus seven. It’s like an odd sort of muscle memory, an old routine from another life that feels as bitter as it does comfortable. He heads out early to give himself some cushion. The streets are empty but for bakers and baristas, the first hints of dawn tinging the sky a deep blue. When he turns a corner and the rink comes into view, the absence of his bag hanging from his shoulder is a phantom ache.

The front doors are locked but the side one staff uses isn’t, the Zamboni driver already inside. Remus lets himself in, makes a cup of tea from the hot water dispenser they leave out when concessions are closed, plants himself on a bench, and waits.

And waits.

Remus has nearly nodded off when two pairs of shoes come bounding up to him. Well, one pair bounds. The other drags.

“Hi, sorry we’re late.” You’re breathless and hauling a sullen-looking boy along behind you by the hand, but you manage a smile when Remus looks up at you. “I had to run over and get him out of bed. It’s good to meet you!”

You hold out your untethered hand. Remus might normally stand to take it, but he no longer feels like doing you the courtesy. Your grip is firm and warm.

“You were supposed to be here at six,” he says.

You wince. “I know. Sorry, Sirius is really not a morning person.”

Remus thinks that he might put more stock into your apologies if you looked a tad more contrite. As it is, your countenance is almost cheery, a fizzy eagerness about you as you look between him and the ice like you can’t wait to get out on it.

In stark contrast, the ill-tempered boy behind you seems not to have a clue where he is. He looks rumpled and disoriented, squinting in the rink’s fluorescent light.

“Then why didn’t you pick another time?” Remus asks.

He hadn’t realized he was still looking at Sirius, or that the other boy could talk, so it’s a surprise when he answers. “Wasn’t my bloody idea.”

By the way you grin, Remus wonders if you’ve even heard the obvious bitterness in your partner’s tone, or whether it’s gone straight over your head.

“I like the rink better early,” you explain. “No one else ever comes before the hockey practice starts at nine, and they’ll have just finished resurfacing the ice.”

Begrudgingly, Remus nods. “I always preferred it about now, too.”

He realizes immediately that his agreement was a mistake, because your smile grows into something far too brilliant for the early hour. Christ, what has he gotten himself into? There’s you, starry-eyed and effervescing all over the place, and your partner, who looks more inclined to fall asleep on your shoulder than put on his skates.

And this is the pair skating duo Remus is supposed to take to the Olympics.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Watch that back foot!” Remus shouts across the ice.

Sirius doesn’t look happy about it, but he corrects the placement of his skate, transitioning smoothly into the next synced turn.

“Good,” Remus murmurs to himself.

Once Sirius got out on the ice and woke up a bit, he was good. He skates with the technical proficiency of someone who’s been in the sport since before they started primary school, and the intuitive artistry of someone who loves it. You’re much the same, though your virtuosity and obvious competence are consistently undercut by hesitation, the grace of your movements interrupted when you second-guess yourself. But these—technical prowess paired with devotion—are the basics of what makes a good figure skater. You’ll have to be flawless if you want to do well at the Olympics.

And Remus has found many flaws.

“No, no—shit!” Remus stands as you fall out of your jump again, catching yourself on your forearms. “You’re still under-rotating! Come on!”

Sirius snarls a quick “Hey!” over his shoulder before turning his back on Remus, going to help you up. He speaks to you quietly, checking you over as you stand. Remus seethes.

He has no clue why he’s been called out here to coach a pair. Remus doesn’t know pairs, has never been a part of one. He was a solo skater. And frankly, it makes him wary that what’s supposed to be the best skating pair in Britain has asked him, a former solo skater who’s been isolated from the figure skating community in general for the past two years, to coach them. But Remus does know figure skating. And he knows when skaters are making stupid mistakes behind their skill level.

“What aren’t you understanding?” asks Remus as you skate back to the edge of the rink. He really wants to know. “It’s simple. You can do this.” He knows he could have. As easy as breathing, and he would kill to have the chance again.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Sirius’ glare is sharp as knives. He steps off the ice before you can, positioning himself between you and Remus. Your lips purse with a knowing sort of apprehension.

“Sirius…”

“No, you don’t talk to her like that,” Sirius spits. “It was a tiny mistake.”

Remus raises his eyebrows, incredulous. “I’m trying to help her! It was a giant mistake, with a simple fix. You ought to be telling her the same, unless you’re okay with your partner snapping her ankle weeks out from competition.”

“None of that means you get to fucking yell at her! Who do you think you are?”

“Okay—”

“I’m her coach,” says Remus, voice rising, “and—”

“Then coach her! Maybe if you’d give some actual fucking feedback instead of just nitpicking—”

“Okay!” Your shout cuts through the space, echoing in the empty rink and silencing the other two. “That’s enough.”

You haul Sirius back by his shoulder. Your grip doesn’t look severe enough to move him, but he goes, stepping back to your side. His eyes never leave Remus’.

Your own gaze jumps between both boys, that same spark he’d seen in you earlier burning with a different light.

“Let’s call it for today,” you say firmly. “Okay? We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Neither boy speaks, though Remus nods. It seems to be taking all of Sirius’ willpower to bite his tongue. He gets the impression it isn’t something he succeeds at often, so Remus isn’t ashamed to say that it brings him a perverse sort of joy to see it now. His tiny bit of smugness fizzles out, though, when your eyes land on him. There’s something desolate in your expression that’s a salient deviation from how you’d looked at him before. Remus has the sinking feeling that he’s disappointed you. It’s more distressing than he can account for.

“We’ll be here on time tomorrow,” you say in that same steady tone. “And my jump, I’ll work on it.”

Remus nods again. You return it, and when you turn to leave, you drag Sirius after you by his shirtsleeve, picking up your bags along your way. Remus’ mouth feels dry. His lips are chapped, his fingertips hurt from the cold, and the sight of your skates sinking into the rubbery floor makes his hip ache terribly.

It’s only once you’re nearly out of earshot that he manages to mumble, “Thank you.”

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the-other-art-blog · 6 months ago

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Violet to Colin: "You're one of my most sensitive children."

The fandom: "How can she say that! Anthony, Benedict bla, bla bla..."

Colin is ONE of her most sensitive children. ONE, just ONE of them. And she's right.

ONE OF HER MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN

He was the only one who indulged Violet and let her introduce him to debutantes in s1, while Anthony fucked his mistress and Ben went to orgies.

He was a complete gentleman with Marina. AND defended her when Anthony implied something about her.

And when he learned the truth, he confessed that he would have married her if she had told him the truth. 🥹

He danced with Pen after Cressida bullied her.

He wrote dozens of letters that his family of 8 could not care to respond to often. There are 8 of them!

He worried about Ben in s2 and supported him on his application to the Academy.

He learned the truth of Jack Featherington and instead of simply leaving, he did something about it. Not only did he help the Featherington family, but he saved other lords from being scammed.

He apologized to Will, explained why he acted rudely AND made amends to repair the damage by bringing men to Will's club.

He returned with gifts for everyone, but he seemed particularly thoughtful to his sisters and mother. A perfume for Hyacinth, music for Francesca, and a book for Eloise 🥹. Violet was so moved by his gift and here we have a lovely headcanon on the watch:

Then with Pen...

He runs after Pen, despite other men wanting to know about his adventures.

He acknowledges his mistake and immediately tries to apologize to Pen in the Four Seasons Ball.

The next day, he comes back with a heartfelt apology.

Then, he offers her help, despite the risk of scandal and embarrassment for him. He knows Pen has no one else.

He goes to see Pen at night to make sure she's ok. And when she asks him for a kiss, he does it so sweetly.

He is brave enough to leave the men who just want to know about his sexual life.

HE WAS BRAVE ENOUGH TO ASK, as soon as he put himself together and understood his feelings. He didn't play jealousy games like others, he went and put his heart on the table. He didn't even know about Pen's feelings and he risked it!

Some extracts from Colin's journals show that his family is always in his thoughts.

You can see why Violet, as the good mother that she is, can tell how sensitive he is.

Colin travels during the summer and comes back during the season to be with his family. It angers me that people think he's selfish for this when Benedict also abandons the family to fuck.

And yet, both Colin and Ben are sensitive. BOTH OF THEM, Francesca too. I wouldn't call Hyacinth or Gregory sensitive right now, and before s3, I wouldn't include Eloise either.

Anyway, I needed to get this out because I am so fucking tired of Kanthonies and Benophies making tantrums about this line.

I'm sure when s4 comes, we are going to see a moment between Violet and Ben where she acknowledges how amazing he is and everything he has done for the family. But not now, because this is COLIN'S SEASON.

(NOTE: If you are thinking of reblogging this post with the tag #Colin is the most sensitive, kindly fuck off. I made this post to fight the Kanthonies and Benophie that are attacking Colin, not to validate your own need to make Colin superior to other characters. HE IS ONE OF THE MOST SENSITIVE CHILDREN, ONE)

#colin bridgerton #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #polin #violet bridgerton #bridgerton season 3

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giamee · 6 months ago

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𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍!

... aka something super self indulgent because i'm going insane right now

༊*·˚ featuring ➻ the hsr men

༊*·˚ gia's notes ➻ this is probably gonna get posted way after exam season is over but here it is!!! my coping mechanism!!! i have 3 exams in 8 days im gonna explode bro. and before that i had a THREE HOUR STATISTICS EXAM 😀😀

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 MAKES SURE THAT YOU SLEEP COMFORTABLY.

you've been running yourself into the ground recently with revision- yes, it's important and you need to study to get good grades, as he is more than aware of due to your multiple stressed rants to him when he suggests that you take a break.

it doesn't bother him, not really. he knows that you're beyond stressed right now and don't mean to be so snappy. he just wants to make sure that you're still taking care of yourself despite everything.

he's in your dorm room, not really making much noise, scrolling through reals with his phone on mute, just present to keep an eye on you and get you to take a break whenever it's been a little too long since you've moved from your desk.

it's some time where it's debatable whether it's very late or very early- both of your sleep schedules are fucked- and there comes a little thunk from your desk that interrupts the otherwise silent room.

your boyfriend glances up, smiling in triumph as he sees that you've finally succumbed to the nap that he's been trying to convince you to take for the past... 36 hours? something like that.

and now that your body has finally given in to exhaustion, he springs to action.

you'd been studying for days, you'd done more than enough for your upcoming exam, and a solid few hours of uninterrupted sleep is exactly what you need right now.

he slips off of your bed, his movements quiet and calculated as he sidles up next to you. your glasses are smushed against your face, and he gingerly removes them as gracefully as he can. you stir a little as he does so, and he grimaces, waiting for you to settle again.

it looked like you would wake up if he carried you to your bed- looks like he'll have to improvise.

he snags the fuzzy blanket folded neatly at the foot of your bed, wrapping it around your sleeping form still sat at your desk as best as he can. he then takes one of your smaller pillows, coaxing it between you and the solid wood of your desk as best as he can before admiring his handiwork.

hopefully, you wouldn't wake up with a stiff neck.

and finally, as a cherry on top, he places a kiss to your squished cheek and sits back down to let you take a well-deserved nap.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ BLADE, gallagher, BOOTHILL ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 IS YOUR PERSONAL ASSISTANT WHILE YOU'RE STRESSING.

you don't have to lift a single finger when he's around. luckily for you, his exams finished a lot earlier this term than yours did, leaving him ample time to help you as much as he is capable of.

and what an attentive boyfriend he is! amidst all the stress, you can't help but swoon for him all over again because of how attentive he's being towards you. he just wants you to help you study and not worry about anything else!

if you're hungry, he'll have a plate of food ready for you before the request has even left your mouth. your back or neck is aching due to being hunched over? his strong hands are rubbing circles into the muscle, making you sigh contentedly as the stiffness melts away.

he's honestly like an angel in your time of need.

you feel guilty about how one-sided this all is, but he merely smiles, giving you a quick kiss and assuring you that he understands and just wants you to do well. you almost cried because of how sweet he was being.

once these exams are over, you're definitely going to make it up to him.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ GEPARD, jing yuan, sunday ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ACTS AS YOUR TEMPORARY STUDY PARTNER.

despite not doing your degree, he's clever, and he knows enough without googling to help you out when you revise.

he's an advocate for the "teach someone about a subject until they understand it as well as you do" and luckily for you, he's all ears... and even if he does get some things a little quicker than your fried brain can explain, he still bites his tongue and plays a little dumb to probe you further with questions to test your understanding.

it'll help in the exam.

you've decided that this is way better than being cramped in a booth in the library- you have the freedom to wave your arms around and pace the room, to fully illustrate your thoughts and knowledge as he flips through the colourful flashcards that you made, reading the answers on the back of each of them, grilling you on the questions like a tiger mum.

he'll be damned if you don't get an A.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ dan heng, DR RATIO, welt ++ your faves!

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 DEFUSES YOU WHENEVER YOU'RE GETTING TOO STRESSED.

in the days leading up to your exams, it was best to describe your stomach as a pit of nerves. it was honestly distracting you from revising, all the pent up anxiety that churned within you until you were on the verge of a meltdown.

and while you may be too stressed to realise all of this and do something about it, your boyfriend's watchful eye realises this.

and so he does what he does best- he makes you feel better.

he pulls your body to rest against his where he lies in your bed, his large hand drawing comforting circles up and down your spine- and after a few minutes he can feel you melt into him, your body finally releasing the pent up stress that it's been holding for too long.

"it's ok to take a break, honey."

you sigh into him, and he hugs you tighter.

"c'mon, let's go outside for a few minutes. it'll help you feel a lot better."

you shake your head.

"you wanna just stay here for a bit?"

he feels you nod against his chest.

"ok, then let's do that."

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ SAMPO, luocha, AVENTURINE ++ your faves!

IF YOU LIKED THIS, TRY ... do you want somebody like i want somebody?

the sweet and caring nature of the hsr men is also shown through them being your roommate <3

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latenightdaydreams · 4 months ago

Note

Monster König finds a willing partner for his breeding season.....and maybe found his future wife.

Yesssss💗

Monster!König x Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, monster, oral, p in v

1.7k word count

You took a short vacation from work, deciding to go into the wilderness to disconnect from civilization for a bit. Having recently ended a six-year relationship, this feels like the start of a new chapter. An independent life free of love or men.

Hours from home you pull up to the camping grounds a few hours before sunset. It’s autumn so there aren’t many people here, thankfully. Once you park, you gather your camping gear, and set off on your journey. The area you’ll be in is isolated clearing deep into the woods.

The leaves crunch under every step you take, your eyes following every small creature you see scurrying past you. You're able to set up your tent before you lose natural light and you make a small fire. For some odd reason, you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched. From what you know, there are no dangerous animals in the area so you try to relax.

With a pullover on and leggings, you sit near the fire eating and roasting the occasional marshmallow. There are no sounds, not even a cricket in the night. It seems odd, but you’ve never been in this situation before so you once again ignore that gut feeling.

König watches from the shadow of the dark, his glowing blue eyes tracking your every move. You smell exquisite and look like a precious doll. It’s mating season for his kind, and his kind are dying out. Finding a mate is usually futile and ends in him missing the season. Yet, you’re right here. Almost as if you fell into his lap; a fertile female of the human species.

There is a heavy tension in the air as you hear a twig snap. Your eyes dart around in the darkness, unable to see anything. For a moment you hold your breath, trying to listen as closely as you can to make sure some random human wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. Then it happened again. You drop the stick with roasted marshmallows on it and jump up.

“Hello? Who's there?” Your hand reaches for the can of pepper spray on your hip.

There is no response. Only a loud silence and a tension that vibrates through your whole body. You can hear your heart beating but you attempt to appear stoic. There is a small rustling of the leaves before a low growl is heard.

“H- hello?” Fear washes over you as you gaze into the darkness.

“Hallo, Liebling.”

A raspy voice comes from the trees. Heavy footsteps get closer as you slowly back away. With a shaking arm you hold out the pepper spray. Your voice cracks as you attempt to appear stronger than you are.

“I have pepper spray! Don’t come any closer!”

Silence. You don’t move, barely even breathing as you look around. After a few minutes, you begin to think that you’re going crazy, maybe being alone out here isn’t for you after all. Just as you were going to put your pepper spray away, you see glowing blue eyes gazing at you.

König walks out from the darkness, exposing himself to you. The giant creature stands at 8-feet with pale glowing eyes from behind its mask. He walks forward to you with a slow and steady speed as if to not startle you.

For some odd reason, you don’t scream or run away. Your eyes drift up and down the monster’s body, taking note of how muscular it is. A small gasp leaves your lips when you notice he has an erection; his giant cock bouncing off his thigh with each step forward.

The way you’re checking him out doesn’t go unnoticed by him. He’s pleasantly surprised to see how fascinated you appear to be, the fear in your eyes melting away. As he gets closer to you, he realizes how truly tiny you are. You’re nearly half his height; he’s never been with a human before and he’s curious to know what you could feel like wrapped around him.

“König.” His voice sent chills over your whole body.

“König?” You were confused at first until you realized that was his name. “I- I’m y/n.”

“My mate.”

Mate? You don’t respond, just gaze up at him. He lowers himself, kneeling before you. His hands caress your whole body; one of his hands nearly wrapping around your soft stomach. Small hums of satisfaction leaving his lips as he feels your warm body. He buries his nose into the crook of your neck and takes in a deep breath of your scent.

You melt like butter in his arms. All rational thought gone; this odd creature seems to have possessed you into submission. His strong musk consuming your nostrils, but it isn’t unpleasant. He slowly begins to pull up your pullover, exposing your breasts pooling in your bra.

König pulls his mask back, revealing the lower part of his face; his long slimy tongue creeps out and licks along your cleavage. You tremble, letting out a small whimper. His glowing eyes meet yours as he pulls your bra off and licks over your hard nipples.

This feels like a fever dream, monsters aren’t real; this can’t be real. It feels so real though, you can feel your pussy getting wet as his warm body mixes with the odd sensation of his tongue. When he pulls away, he looks at you, standing back up to his full height as he looks around.

“Undress.”

You do what he says, undressing before him and exposing your full body to him. The tip of his cock begins to drip with precum as he thinks of actually being able to breed, to fuck. He walks forward and grabs you, lifting you up into his arms. A small surprised gasp leaves your lips, a rush of excitement consumes you thinking about what is about to happen.

König nuzzles his masked face into yours in an almost affectionate manner. You boldly grab his mask and lift it to see a face almost human like. He pauses for a moment, wondering if you’ll reject him when you see how hideous he is. For a moment you linger saying and doing nothing causing his heart beat to pick up, but then you kiss the side of his face. Your kiss travels over him, down his neck as he kneels again, placing you closer to the fire to keep your small hairless body warm.

You look so tiny underneath him; he could crush you if he wanted to. Such a delicate beautiful human, all for himself. He leaves sloppy kisses over your abdomen, squeezing your thighs as he continues down. Finally, he reaches what he’s desiring most. His hand’s part your legs as he takes time to look at your beautiful pussy. It looks like a flower in bloom, sweet aromas emanating from the nectar glistening in the fire light.

König sticks his tongue out, swiping across your folds and tasting you. A deep growl leaves his throat, you taste like nothing he’s ever had before. The feeling of your trembling legs mixed with your small moans cause his cock to throb. His tongue pushes into your, swirling around as he attempts to get as deep as he can.

His claws dig into your skin as your eyes close letting the pleasure take over your whole body. You grab at the leaves and grass around you as your back arches. This is a new level of pleasure you’ve never felt before. When he pulls his face away you almost whine, desperate for more.

A smile crosses his lips when your gaze is full of desire. You desire him. He moves his body between your legs, kneeling. With one hand he grasps his cock and slaps his heavy cock against your pussy. The size difference is jarring but also exciting. Your tiny body will look beautiful with a full stomach carrying his seed.

“Oh fuck!” You hiss as his cock slowly slips into your cunt.

König presses in slowly to not hurt you. He knew that you’d be tight, but he didn’t know you’d be this tight. A shaky moan leaves him as he watches the way your lips spread to accommodate him. His eyes move to your face as he continues to push himself in, trying to get as much of his fat 14-inch cock into you as he can.

Your pussy feels as if it's about to tear. A stinging pain pulses as he sinks in as much as he possibly can. You look into his eyes with pinched eyebrows as you take deep breaths. His hips slowly begin to rock in and out, he can’t fight the feeling even though he knows it hurts. It will get better.

“Relax.” He whispers as he leans in to kiss your neck.

Your hands caress his body, tracing the contours of his muscles as his pace picks up. The feeling of your welcoming warm cunt consumes König; you’re perfect for him. Every thrust sends a tingle of ecstasy to build up from your cunt and burst throughout your body.

König’s hands caress your sides, wrapping around underneath your body. His hands rest on your ass, cupping the supple flesh as his hips slam harder against your delicate frame. The only objective in his mind is to cum, to get you pregnant. He begins to breathe harder as he feels himself approaching his orgasm.

He whimpers, becoming merciless in his rhythm. You moan out his name, praising him for how amazing he feels inside of you. His kind is usually never this affectionate, simply a season to pair and breed. Yet you’re under him, thanking him for fucking you. How beautiful.

“Y/n…” König moans as his hips slow to a stop.

He pulls out and looks down at you, breathing heavily as he looks at your body. For a moment he considers leaving and just coming back tomorrow night, but you look so vulnerable laying there. There is a deep desire to protect you.

König lays on the ground next to you, pulling your tiny worn-out body to his. One hand caresses your face gently as he kisses the top of your head. His massive body cocoons around you to keep you warm. You turn to König, nuzzling your face into his chest; your hand petting him as you begin to fall asleep.

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shiggybrainr0t · 8 months ago

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bakugou isn’t afraid to love you openly here, in the morning sun.

note: title is lyrics from a zach bryan song <3 this has only been lightly edited, but I hope you enjoy! the line break thing below is from @/cafekitsune

bakugou slams his hand down on his alarm clock at 5:29 a.m., exactly one minute before the alarm is actually set to go off. you have been fighting off a cold the past few days, and after some warm soup and medicine he bribed you with a kiss to take, he’s a nurturer at heart, sue him, you finally were able to sleep. that last thing he wants is his stupid alarm to wake you up.

bakugou is a natural earlier riser. he likes to have time to wake up, drink some coffee, go to the gym and shower and still make it back to you before 8. when he looks over at you now though, he has a feeling that his morning routine isn’t going to be acted upon.

you’re sprawled across his bare chest, legs tangled up with his like a love knot. your face is squished against his bicep, mouth hanging open since you can’t breath through your nose at the moment. some drool has dried on his skin, and while bakugou usually is a clean freak, the sight endears him more than it grosses him out.

perspiration makes your skin glow slightly in the soft early sunlight. you had been running a low grade fever last night, but you still insisted on plastering yourself to him to sleep even though he naturally runs hotter than the average person. he knows you’ll complain whenever you have to unstick yourself from him, but he also knows later tonight you’ll snuggle up to him all the same.

looking at you like this, so soft and warm, he’s suddenly reminded of when he first met you. he was a brooding second year at u.a., a child who had been through far too much already, and you were in the general studies department. the school decided to partner up the hero courses with the general studies department for some assignment bakugou can’t even remember now. he got paired with you.

he remembers the guarded look in your eyes whenever you approached him for the first time, the way you softly introduced yourself, and the way you glared at him whenever he scoffed at you. he remembers being surprised, no one normally had the guts to do anything except take what he dished out. but you didn’t.

one night in the library, you finally hit your breaking point. you were mad and fed up with his attitude. the words you said to him still pierce him today.

“bakugou. you have the potential to make something of yourself, but your attitude is going to determine whether you’re great or horrible.”

you had rushed off in a huff after that, leaving him there speechless. he’d been chasing you ever since. eventually, fourth year to be exact, you let him catch you.

now, in bed with you all these years later, he isn’t afraid to be soft with you. he isn’t afraid to touch your face gently, like he does now. bakugou lightly traces the lines of your face with one calloused finger, lingering on the bags underneath your eyes that have deepened from your lack of sleep lately.

his touch makes you stir, and let a jumble of sounds that after years of practice bakugou can understand to be the question “what time is it?”

“too early for you to be up. go back to sleep.” is his response, gruff voice only a whisper. you let out a “mmmmmkay” and snuggle in closer, if that’s even possible. you both are already practically one being, but bakugo can’t find it in him to be upset.

with you in his arms, bakugou drifts back to sleep, morning routine all but forgotten.

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acoazlove · 1 month ago

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A New Place | part three

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: The Inner Circles dinner turned out far different than anyone could have anticipated.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Angst

─────────────────────────

The Tavern is in chaos. All of your coworkers, spring from one side of the building to the next. Cleaning things that you didn’t even think needed cleaning. Moving chairs and tables this way and that.

Yet you don’t have a clue what it’s all for. Well, it’s because ‘someone important’ is coming in, as Benny had said two days ago. You just didn’t know who, you were being kept out of the loop, as per usual. Shoulders slump at that realisation. Sliding into one of the stools at the bar, chin resting on your hand, silently watching them fuss and argue about minuscule things.

Odessa’s black hair swished as she barked orders at Oberon and Tarian. The two of them grumble but follow her lead nonetheless. The absolute worst part was the fact that Dominic’s hulking form was nowhere to be seen. He never misses a shift and does not show up late. Made even worse because it’s already dark out. Shifting your gaze to the clock, and see it’s already 8:00. His and Benny’s absence was starting to stress you out.

A damp cloth gets thrown onto the counter in front of you, startling you from your thoughts. Swiping a hand down your face to remove any droplets that splashed onto you. You scowl up at the culprit, finding Adem grimacing. “Sorry.” Quiet and breathy as if he was trying to hold in a laugh. “No, you’re not.” Turning your head back to the scene behind you, a snort escapes him at your words. Choosing to ignore that, “Do you know what’s going on?”

Gaze meets his once again, finding him avoiding eye contact. “…No.” Too long a pause for you not to notice. Eyes narrowing in suspicion, “Yes you do.” an accusatory finger points in his face, which he slaps away. Face scrunching at the accusation, “Firstly get that out of my face. Secondly, fine, I do. But I can’t tell you.” he replies with an exasperated huff.

Brows furrow once again, “Why not?” Adem goes to reply but gets interrupted by two large hands clapping down on his shoulders, a wince leaving him. Dominic's scowling face appears over his shoulder, meeting your eyes. “Why aren’t you two working?” a brow raising at you. “Shouldn’t you be cleaning the glassware?”

You release a frustrated groan but move behind the bar. Grabbing a couple glasses to shine, “What’s going on?” voice taking an irritated tone. Sick of your questions being ignored.

Their eyes track something behind you, turning and following their gaze, you find Benny leaning against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over her chest. You raise a brow questioningly, and she reciprocates it. Before you can repeat your question again. “Break time, y/n.”

You slam the glass you were shining on the bar harder than intended, causing all eyes to shift to you. “You’ll find out after your break.” Benny’s tone holds no argument.

“Fine.” You say through gritted teeth, and aggressively pull your waist apron off and shove it into her arms before you walk into the kitchen.

Once you’re out of hearing distance, Dominic gives Benny an incredulous look, “She’s going to be upset once she finds out.” A heavy sigh exits her, “I know. Let’s just finish cleaning up. They should be here in about 20 minutes.”

Dominic and Adem nod and turn to help the others, and Benny runs a hand down her face defeatedly.

─

The Inner Circle make their way towards Benny’s Bar, The boys leading the way. Elain and Lucien had kindly offered to look after Nyx for the night, giving his parents the night to relax. Amren also couldn’t make it, since she is away in the Summer Court. The family all dressed comfortably since the bar isn’t exactly the fanciest place.

Azriel’s hands wringing together as he walks behind them. A bad feeling sat heavy in his stomach. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pushes away that feeling as much as he can. He typically prides himself on being a relatively calm and confident male, but that calm is slipping into nervousness with every step closer to the tavern. Mor’s and Cassian’s excited voices only seem to make it worse.

The bell above the door rings loudly in his ears, as they all step into the Bar. His assessing eyes track each patron, and It surprises Az that no one even bats an eye, completely ignoring the big group that had just arrived.

Benny bounds over, a beaming smile on her face, that the lot of them reciprocate easily. Nesta and Feyre, having never met the blue female, eye her curiously, but grin regardless.

“Welcome! I’m Benny.” Introducing herself to the two females, who introduce themselves in return. “Let’s get you all seated.” Her smile never left her face.

Benny leads them to a more secluded corner of the room to give them as much privacy as the Inner Circle can get. And just like Benny had said a couple of days ago, two large tables were shoved together. Once everyone is seated Benny hands all of them some old menus that had hardly been used in decades, “I’ll leave you all to take a look, then I’ll come back and take your orders.” The group thanks her as she stalks away.

“She’s lovely.” Feyre voices to her mate next to her, while opening her menu.

“You should have met her when she first opened this place.” Mor snickers. “She wasn’t our biggest fan at first, but we managed to get her to warm up to us,” Cassian says with a proud grin, which Rhys snorts at.

Azriel peers over his shoulder, hardly paying attention to the conversation in front of him. His nerves spike once again when his shadows start darting around, whispering to him about who is nearby.

As he tries to shoo them away so he can see for himself, a deep booming voice comes from behind the bar. “Archeron! Get your ass behind the bar!”

The whole group's head snapped in the direction to find the source of those foul words. Nesta and Feyres' faces are set in a look of outrage, and the boys look about ready to kill. But as soon as they go to do something about it, a familiar head pops out from the kitchen door. You. Everyone’s mouths immediately snap shut.

Your own face is set in irritation. “What?” You growl back at the deep voice. Azriel’s dark brows raise a fraction, his gaze turning back towards his family, mouths dropped to the floor, watching you make your way over to him, while quickly trying to tie an apron around your waist. Az’s shadows now trailing across the wood flooring towards you, and he struggles to reign them back in.

Nesta's attention whirls on Cassian. “Is this why we’re having dinner here?” She snaps at him. Cassian shuts his mouth as he meets her eyes, “No, I had no idea.” His brows pull together as he turns back to look in your direction, at the same time Benny stops by Dominic and you. His frown deepens, “She did though.”

A slender figure obscures their view of you all of a sudden “I’ll be your server for the night.” The person's voice. Morrigan’s face lights up, “Odessa?” She questions, leaning back in her seat to get a better look at her. “Hi, Mor,” Odessa replies with a chuckle. Her head turns back behind her, towards you having a stare off with the male in front of you. You don’t know that they’re here, she realises as she scratches down their order.

─

Glaring at Dominic, who tilts his head towards the liquor, then throws a rag at your face. His silent way of telling you to hurry up. “I still had ten minutes left of my break.” you hiss, ripping the cloth off your face.

He shrugs, turning his attention back to the glass in front of him, “It’s busy.” You’re about to whip him with the towel in your hands before Benny’s blue form leans against the bar top in front of you. Raising a brow at the scowl on your face. “We have customers waiting.”

A rumbling laugh comes from your right, and a bottle of alcohol is shoved into your hands so hard you have to take a step back. You take a deep breath at the smug look on his face, he then hands you a note with a drink order scribbled on it in Odessa’s handwriting.

Without another word, you read the order, and step up to the shelf, take six shot glasses, and place them down on a tray, lined up. You pluck the lid off the liquor bottle and bump-pour the shots. Practically slamming the bottle down once done.

A low whistle is heard from the kitchen doorway, spinning on your heel, your eyes narrow at the blonde. Oberon has the gall to smirk at you. “What’s got your knickers in a twist?” Smirk widening as your face twisted further in frustration. Benny steps in before you can blow up, hand sliding onto your shoulder to try to get your attention. However, a flash of mousy brown hair slides in behind the male in front of you.

Tarian’s smile is almost smug as he peers over your shoulder, his focus catching on something, and he elbows the male next to him in the ribs, Oberon snorts at the observation. With a huff, you turn your head to see what is so interesting and find a dark shadow swirling by your shoulder.

All frustration leaves your body, knowing who it belongs to. Eyes widening, and panic setting in. Why is it here? Is he here? Are they all here? Your gaze lands back on Benny next to you. Who’s expression softens considerably upon noticing the flash of hurt that crosses your features.

Now you finally know who they were getting the place ready for.

Hesitantly looking around the room, and immediately lock eyes with hazel. Then the rest of your family, whose attention quickly turns to anything else, trying to make it look like they weren’t just gawking at you. You release a shaky exhale and push Benny's hand off your shoulder. “A bit of warning would have been nice.” You grit out. A guilty smile tugged at her lips. “I thought you would freak out and run.”

You can’t help but gape at her words. “Name one time I’ve done that.” She gives you a look, and you're reminded once again of how you started working in the bar in the first place. “Oh piss off,” you grumble before going back over to Dominic.

Choosing to ignore the fact that you have six pairs of eyes currently tracking your every move, you push a tray of shots to the edge of the counter. “Dessa.” Calling her attention away from a female sitting on one of the bar stools.

You point at the tray and she reluctantly leaves the female’s side to get the drinks. Giving you a wink as she heads in the direction of the large group. You send her a crude gesture as she turns, pulling a snort from the bulky male next to you. “Be nice.”

You throw the rag that you had been holding, at him. “You're lucky I didn’t whip you with that.” Turning towards a customer waiting to order. Shuffling comes from behind you, and in your peripheral you see Tarian ushering Oberon back into the kitchen.

Benny lingered by the doorway as well before following the two males. An unexpected breath of relief escapes you now that her eyes aren’t on you. Disregarding that realisation you keep yourself busy with pouring drinks, keeping to yourself for the rest of the night.

─

Azriel hasn’t taken his gaze off of you since you entered the room. Though that isn’t unusual for him. He had caught himself doing so since your first interaction in the human realm. An invisible force guiding his attention to you constantly, however, he always brushed it off as your charming personality. As far as he knows, you never seem to notice.

Scarred fingers twitch as he watches you move, strung so tight it almost looks painful. Trying with every fibre of your being to ignore the group of people who let you down. He let you down. He should’ve said something to them. He thought they would remember on their own. He was wrong.

He should’ve told you that he remembered. That could’ve helped at least a little, you would know that you’re not an afterthought, that he sees you. But he was a coward. Didn’t want you to think of him in that way, because it's easier for him. Did you end up even opening the present he got you? He wouldn’t blame you if you threw it out.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts by plates being cleared from the table. A red-haired male doing so as quickly and quietly as he could. How long had his self-deprecating thoughts distracted him? That question is answered by the Inner Circle standing from their seats and grabbing their jackets. Hardly conversing.

As Azriel starts walking out of the building behind his family, he looks over his shoulder, he sees you taking off your waist apron, muttering something to Benny while heading through the kitchen. A jacket hanging from your arm. He loses sight of you very briefly as the Tavern's door closes behind him, but then sees you exit out of the bar’s back door.

The rest of the group doesn’t seem to notice, already ambling in the direction of the River House, so he slips away over to where you’re standing.

He’s silent as he does so. He can tell that you know he’s there if the way you tense up is anything to go by. Stopping a good distance away from you to help make you feel like you’re not being cornered.

The silence that passes between you feels loud. “You didn’t seem surprised when you all realised I work here.” Pulling your jacket tighter around yourself, keeping your gaze forward. “Everyone else looked like they’d seen a ghost.”

Azriel studied your side profile, moonlight highlighting each feature, trying to decipher what you are truly feeling from your quiet, monotonous voice. He remembers you being far more expressive when talking. However, he knows three months can truly change someone. Especially with the way you were treated.

At his extended silence, you finally turn your head towards him, and the uncomfortable yet questioning look you give him prompts him to finally speak. “I saw you with Benny at the Cafe two days ago.” A heavy sigh leaves you at that. “Why didn’t you tell them?” He frowns at your question.

”Why would I tell them?” Now it's your turn to frown. “Because they’re your family. Plus work for Feyre and Rhysand. Doesn’t that mean you need to tell them everything?” Azriel shuffles on his feet, wings twitching at his back, shadows crawling across the pavements towards you, as if wanting to comfort you. Trying and failing to reign them in, He turns his attention to the Inner Circles disappearing forms, hardly in view anymore.

You follow his gaze “Not everything.” Brows pulling together, many questions on the tip of your tongue, but he continues before you can voice them. “Most things yes, but after what happened,” turning back to look at you, “You’re happy here. You should be able to keep a safe space. You found that with them.” He tilts his head to the Bar back door behind you, a curl falling over his forehead as he does so. Another sigh leaves you. “They all came anyway. So that doesn’t matter anymore.”

Thick brows pull together at the defeated tone of your voice. Opening his mouth to say something, but decides against it. You notice it though, deciding to ignore it when he stays silent.

A roaring laugh from the kitchen pulls both of your attention. A long exhale escapes past your lips. “I should get back to work.” Grabbing the door handle, almost hesitantly. “They miss you.” Azriel all but blurts out. Needing you to know. He cringed internally at the volume he spoke, not intending it to come out as a near yell.

You scoff. “If they missed me they would have tried to find and talk to me.” His shadows move sporadically, giving away his inner turmoil. “They wanted to give you time.” He tries to reason.

A sound of disbelief comes from you as soon as the words leave his mouth. “For three months? They wanted to give me time for three months?” Looking up at the stars to calm yourself. “For all I know they just forgot about me. It's not like it’d be the first time.” Azriel doesn't like the tone you’re using but understands where your anger and irritation are coming from.

Letting out a long exhale when he doesn’t respond. “I really should get back in there. I hope you enjoyed your night Azriel.” The sincerity of your tone makes Azriel’s shoulders slump, but he nods as you slip back inside. Leaving him alone with an uncomfortable silence. His shadows circled around him in frustration, whispering about the disappointed look on your features as you made your way back through the kitchen. They want him to go back in and keep talking to you, to try to get you to smile.

He’ll try again another day. Give you some time to collect your thoughts and feelings and accept the fact that they all now know where you are. No guarantee that they won't just show up when you need time to breathe. To turn your safe space into a place they visit often.

Maybe he can convince the Inner Circle to have a civil, grown-up conversation with you. Maybe you could get them to understand that how they treated you has affected you more than they could ever understand. That they hurt you. That you deserve better. You’re not a child anymore, you've been through stuff too.

He wants you to be happy.

With that thought, he jumps into the sky and flies home. But he’s finally realising that home feels different without you.

─────────────────────────

a/n: There might be spelling mistakes. I’m sorry this took so long, I couldn’t get this right for a long time, and I’m still not the happiest with it, but I can always fix it in the future. The family confrontation will be in the next part. I’m sorry that the story is taking a while. I promise that the actual love story with reader and Az will show up really, really soon. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this regardless. <3

#azriel × reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel x reader angst #azriel angst #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar #acotar x reader #acotar #a new place #a new place series

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heartpiratedrabbles · 9 months ago

Text

Overly Cautious

Prompt: Katakuri comes back from a mission to learn you're pregnant despite never wanting to be a father.

Requested by anonymous

Katakuri X Fem Reader

Katakuri had been sent on a mission to retrieve something, leaving you alone, having you stand in as the Minister of Flour while he was away. Everything was going well; you had done this plenty of times in the past. But some of the workers had noticed you not eating as much, you’d wave them off without a concern. The concern really came when a cake was being made and just the smell of it made you want to vomit.

You couldn’t hide it from anyone, you were in the middle of a meeting about the upcoming tea party and what pastries would be served. Everyone forced you to see a doctor, no one wanting to deal with the wrath of your husband if he got back to find you sick.

And that’s how you ended up in the ward, a doctor running tests and looking you over. Much to your dismay numerous curious eyes also making sure you wouldn’t leave this forced appointment. “And when was the last time you were sexually active?” The question threw you off guard, nearly spitting out the tea that you had been allowed to drink.

You’re face burning red as you whip your head around to look at those who had forced you here. None of them dared to make eye-contact with you, some whistling while looking off in a random direction. They tried to protest when you kicked them out, but you refused to discuss such things in front of so many people. Once the door was finally closed the doctor, who was not too amused asked the question again. “It’s been a little a while, 7 or 8 weeks I think,” Thinking back to the last intimate night you had with Katakuri, he’d been so busy lately that it’d had been longer than normal.

The doctor wrote some notes down and continued with other questions before doing some blood tests. You sat back, expecting this to be a simple flu. That would give you a headache, you’d be forced to bedrest as to not spread it and not slow down progress. The doctor padded his way back into the room, flipping through the papers reading the results of everything he had tested for. “Well, it seems as though you’re pregnant.”

You took the rest of the day off to think about things. Katakuri had adamantly told you he didn’t want children. He didn’t want to pass down his genes in fear of what could happen, you understood his concerns and agreed to not try. And while you were sexually active, contraceptions were used at every avenue, Birth Control, Condoms, Spermicide, even a Plan B if there was a thought of something going wrong.

Katakuri would be getting back from his mission in a couple days, so it’s best to just wait until then. Can’t be announcing things like this. As much as you’d prefer to sweep this under the rug, Big Mom was someone who didn’t partake in abortions, wanting a large family and everything, it’d be counter-productive in her mind. So as much as you wanted too, you’d have to go to a different island, and that included having Katakuri with you to avoid Big Mom’s gaze.

But your plans changed quickly, despite clearly telling the Doctor to keep the news secret, the next day you arrived to the office with banners and some tastefully small cakes. Cards going around with small gifts as though it was common place to celebrate so early on. You tried to get them to calm down, but everyone was overjoyed that their leader finally had an heir on the way.

~~~

Katakuri stared off into the distance, leaning against the wall as the ship got closer to their homeland. It had been a pointless mission, delivering a letter to a foreign country, demanding there be talks of a marriage. He hated being away from Komugi island for too long, from his normal job as the Minister of Flour. There he’d at least be able to relax a little bit more than normal, and when he was with you, he could let his guard down completely. Trusting you to cover for him or tell him if someone was coming. Being on a ship where he refused to lay down in fear of prying eyes had taken a toll on him, no matter how short the trip was.

As the ship docked some of his administrators found him, happy as ever with large smiles. He wasn’t listening too much to their words of congratulations, assuming it was just words on finishing the mission, he just wanted to make it home so he could finally sleep on his back.

As he was bidding farewell to those around him, one of them said something rather confusing, “Ah, tell Y/N that the mid-wife will be around to talk to her next week. I forgot to let her know earlier.” A mid-wife? For his Wife? Katakuri swallowed the lump in his throat, reasoning that it had to have been due to some unforeseen baby boom in the town.

But as he passed through the halls of his home, he noticed servants scurrying about more than normal. All with excited faces, some with parcels in their hands. It wasn’t until he got to your room pushing the door open to see you sitting at your tea table, a hand rubbing your forehead, “If it’s another gift then send it back. How many times do I need to tell you all to keep this quiet.” Your tired voice brushing past him while you waved your hand, not even looking in the direction of the door.

You heard the door close and let out a heavy sigh, looking to the already inconvenient pile of baby toys, clothes, and furniture that people of the island had pushed onto you. Nobody in this god forsaken town could keep quiet, which would make things so much harder, if Big Mom got word of this, you were more than certain you wouldn’t be able to pass off a random miscarriage without her knowing the truth.

“What is all this?” You jumped a bit, hearing your husbands voice. You never even got word of his arrival to the island, much less that he had already come home.

“We need to talk.” You voice was serious as you looked over at him, he was staring down at you unmoving. “Why not sit down?” He stayed still, crossing his arms for an explanation and you sighed again, this wasn’t normal for him, but you were already too tired to deal with it.

Your sigh caused Katakuri to take another step further, “I get that you must be doing some fundraiser or gala. But you shouldn’t have these donations in here.” You spit out your drink, looking up at you’re normally smart husband.

“Excuse me?” The silence as he stares at you hit you hard, “You think I’m doing a fundraiser? And you think all these stupid things are donations? Is that really what you think?!” Your annoyance peeking through clearly. First the news got, then the storm of gifts, and now even your husband seems to be getting on your nerves. “Katakuri I’m pregnant.” You shake your head, stating it out right was best in these types of situations, “So, might I suggest you sit down so we can talk abou-“

“Your idea of a joke is awful Y/N,” He walks over to the neat stacks of gifts, all of which you were sending back when you got the chance, “I mean really? You think staging some baby items is enough to convince me? This prank is in bad taste.” His regal voice showed no sign of joking and it made you more frustrated than you already were.

“This isn’t a joke,” You were getting another headache but the subtle glare he shot you made it clear he wasn’t going to listen, “You know what? You just got home, why don’t you rest? I’ll send these gifts back in the meantime.”

~~~

The next day Katakuri came to his office looking a little more refreshed and prepared for the day. He sits down in the confines of the space and starts looking through the reports, “It seems you fell a little behind while I was away. Why?” His smooth tone showing you he was ignoring everything you said the day prior.

You had expected something like this to happen so you put the paper with the test result in front of him. “You’re lovely administers made me go to the doctors after some sickness.” His eyes scanned the paper, reading every detail until you could tell he landed on the prognosis. “I’m about 2 months along.”

Katakuri sucks in his breath, you can tell by the twist of his eyebrow that this isn’t going to be fun, deciding to sit on the couch while you wait for his response.

Honestly, you barely had time to process this all yourself, being pushed and pulled everywhere by workers. The only time you had time to think for yourself was late at night when people thought you’d be sleeping. The first night you had spent just staring into the darkness that was the room trying to figure out the situation. Truly, you could relate to what Katakuri was probably going through.

You two never planned on being parents. You vehemently discussed avoiding parenthood the natural way, maybe adopting if you’re mother-in-law became pushy. The thing you wanted most right now was a glass of whiskey, but for clear reasons you couldn’t get one. Your body felt so tense since finding out, your muscles aching from the lack of relaxing.

You were hoping that your husband would be the one to make sense of it for you, but seeing how he’s reacted so far, he was in the same boat as you. It stung, your heart dropping slightly as you put on this front of neutrality. But it was the best you could do, if you didn’t maintain this semblance of control over yourself, you felt like you’d break down.

Finally, your husband spoke, although his words didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it caused you to go further into the downward spiral that was your mind, “Well then whose is it?” His voice was dipped in venom but maintained a single tone, “If you wanted a kid so bad, we could have adopted.”

You bit your tongue, staring at the floor in front of you. He waited a couple second for a response but you couldn’t bring any words to come out before he continued, “You didn’t have to go behind my back like this.” His even tone made every muscle in your body tense more than they already were.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions, yet your body was still tightly wound as you got up, opening the door to let whoever it was in. Someone with a bunch of papers and a wide smile looked back at you and you ushered them in while brushing your way out of the suffocating room.

Offering small smiles to those you passed as you hurried away from the situation. It was only after you had gotten to a small reading room and locked the door behind you that you slid down onto the floor. Your room was too far away and this was unused enough that no one would come looking here. A hand pressed against your stomach while the other tangled itself in your hair, gripping tightly to feel anything other than the heavy emotions that have flowed through you for days now.

You haven’t let anyone know of your own feelings on this matter, other than wanting to keep it on the down low, everyone assuming it was so you could Katakuri yourself, and yet somehow that one single voiced wish hadn’t come true. The entire island singing praise and you were the center of their attention.

You began panting, your throat swelling up making it hard to grasp at air, feeling your body start to shake. Even Katakuri wasn’t willing to listen. This has to be a lot for him, but I thought he loved me. Your body curling in on itself, the hand in your hair running down to grip at the back of your neck while your nails dug into your stomach. He even suggested I had cheated on him, found another man. The thought itself made you sick to your stomach, your heart beat drowning out any noise around you, and eyes squeezing shut as the world got darker around you. Am I just an object to everyone? You tried, and failed at opening your mouth, attempting to get any air to fill your compressed lungs. The beating of your heart the only reminder of that you were in fact alive.

~~~

Katakuri was walking down the hallways. Every time he passed someone who worked with you, he’d ask the same questions. All of them similar stories that made his heart twist with worry, and yet when he went looking for you, you were nowhere to be found. It had been hours since you disappeared from his office without a second glance, the thought of how you left was now hurting him, now that he’s had time to calm down and truly think about everything.

Since no one could find you, he was the person that people were bringing presents too, all of which he ushered to be sent wherever you had put them, some people asking if he had seen you so they could ask more questions. He hadn’t even been back a full day and yet he was overwhelmed with so much. Stalking back to your bedroom, assuming that could be his one quiet place, maybe even find you again to try and have a conversation about everything.

His heart jumped into his throat thinking about it, you had been trying to talk to him this entire time and each attempt was met with malice. You were so patient, letting him voice his hate and distrust. Watching you sit on the couch silently, neither confirming nor denying allegations said to you, though your knuckles turned white in your lap. But what else could he think? With every safeguard the two of you had put into place, how else could you had ended up with a child growing inside of you? Walking into your shared room he looked around, the pile of gifts in the corner seemingly doubled in size from previously in the day.

Yet still, there wasn’t a sign of you anywhere. Katakuri paced a bit, looking for any sign that you had been here after leaving him earlier. But there wasn’t a single thing out of place or used compared to this morning. The realization that no one has seen you for most of the day hitting him with a cold sweat as he calls for security

#One Piece #One Piece X Reader #Katakuri #Katakuri X Reader #One Piece Angst

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daycourtofficial · 8 months ago

Text

Come back, be here

Azriel x reader

Summary: It’s the anniversary of your mating bond ceremony and despite his reassurances, Azriel is nowhere to be seen.

Author’s note: this is the end of my 1k celebration and ironically the first fic I finished for this week. I hope you guys enjoyed reading these fics as much as I enjoyed writing them

Word count: 2k

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Every second you sat in your kitchen felt like an eternity, the fabric of the dress you’re wearing growing heavier with each tick of the clock.

You had bought the clock for your mate for your mating anniversary years ago. A rare antique that you knew he would love - thousands of years old, and you got it for an absurdly low price due to the condition it was in.

You spent months with a restoration expert, cleaning the clock, repairing pieces as you dismantled it. It was a labor of love, one you thought Azriel was deserving of.

The months spent restoring it were nothing compared to the time you’ve been sitting here.

Now you sit, practically taunted by its song. Tonight was supposed to be about the two of you. Objectively five years in a mateship isn’t a long time, a blip in the lives of fae, and yet the both of you were looking forward to the evening.

Despite his intimidating demeanor, Azriel was meticulous about celebrating your anniversaries, oftentimes mentioning an event you didn’t realize he knew the date of. You imagined he had an internal index of the days you two spent together.

“I waited five hundred years to meet you,” he had told you when he wanted to take you out to celebrate the anniversary of your first date, “I want to remember everything we do together. I want to celebrate us every day that I can.”

His words were incredibly sweet, but sitting in the cold kitchen, the tempting aromas of the meal you made long gone, you wonder just how much of it was words.

He waited 500 years for you, and you waited several hours before packing up the dinner you had made for him, tears running down your face as you packaged it all up.

Perhaps his overeager celebration of anniversaries led to the intensity of the sting you feel deep in your chest.

The clock chimes twelve times - he’s four hours late and your anniversary is officially over. You have no indication from the bond what he’s doing, it’s golden hum having gone silent hours ago.

You blow out the candles littering the house, taking off the ridiculous party hat you were wearing and throwing it on the ground.

It feels silly, the brightly colored hat with a pompon on top. It’s bright demeanor heavily contrasting the loneliness you feel inside. You sigh, looking around the downstairs of your home, deciding to leave the rose petals you had scattered so perhaps he’ll feel at least a little guilty when he came home.

Whenever that would be.

Trudging up the stairs, each step growing heavier, you wonder what could have kept him away. Rhys certainly wouldn’t have asked him to go away - Azriel had mentioned earlier in the week he’d be unavailable for a few days to celebrate.

Besides, Rhys knew how anal Azriel was about your anniversaries, and Feyre would chew him out if he forced Azriel to do anything on a day as important as your mating ceremony anniversary.

He had left this morning, promising you he’d be home at 8 because he had some tasks to do. You knew he was going to help one of your neighbors with a fallen tree, something that had to be done as soon as possible.

You move silently, going through your nightly ritual, an early end to the night you didn’t see coming. You pull back the covers on your bed, slipping into its cold grasp, ready to cry yourself to sleep, when you hear the door open downstairs.

You can hear Azriel moving through the house, a swiftness to his step as you hear him climbing the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time.

You make your way to your shared bedroom door, that you had locked upon entering, and lean against it, unsure if you’re ready for his excuses.

He tries the handle, then begins knocking.

“Baby, baby please be awake.” He pauses for a moment, listening. “I’m so sorry, baby please I know you’re awake I can hear you breathing.”

One of his shadows snakes underneath your door, checking you over to see how you are. It lingers on your cheeks, tear tracks still fresh. The shadow doesn’t return to it’s master, instead opting to stay with you, providing you company.

“Please, baby, I lost track of time. I was working on a surprise for you and I fell asleep. Baby I’m-“

You push off the door and turn to crack open the door, taking in the sight of your mate. Despite your annoyance, the bond made it practically impossible to want to avoid him. Every piece of you begged to be near him, to open the door further letting him in.

“You were working on a surprise?” Your voice cracks from all the crying, and he doesn’t mention how his heart cracks in response.

He nods gently, his hair sticking up everywhere from his hands having ran through it, and likely also from the flight home.

You’re still upset, but the frost you feel starts thawing. You can make him grovel a bit, and you’re about to open the door more, when the smell hits you.

Elain.

He showed up late to your date for your mating anniversary with some lame excuse about falling asleep because he had spent the day with Elain.

Elain, who was mated to Lucien, but made her affections for your mate abundantly clear before your mateship. As far as you had known, Azriel had shut down her affections when the bond snapped for you both, but now you’re reconsidering everything that you know.

Had they been sneaking around? Is this the first time? Does Lucien know?

The questions swirl in your mind, and Azriel puts his foot in the door begore you can slam it on him, your emotions swirling inside of his chest.

“Baby-“

“You spent the day with Elain?” You spat, “you were late because of Elain? You reek of her, Az!”

You push against the door, trying to shut him out, but he doesn’t budge, he won’t pull his foot out of the way, no matter how much it hurts.

“Baby, no let me explain-“

You laugh, “what’s there to explain? You are covered in her scent.”

The tears start pouring again, and the shadow starts wiping them up, more of them coming through the door to console you.

He starts panicking. Things with Elain have been great the past few years - her distance from Azriel allowing any lingering feelings of lust or awkwardness to dissipate, allowing the two of them to have a cordial friendship. Despite this, he was aware of how insecure you were around her.

You could never grasp why he’d want to be with you when he could have been with her.

Panic laces his tone as he tells you, “baby, no, I went to Elain’s to bake you a cake! We’ve been working all week on a recipe for you!”

You stop pushing so hard against the door, your movements stilling. An invitation for him to continue talking, but to stay where he was and not try to come in further.

“We spent the day baking you a cake. I laid down on her couch, and you know how damning that thing is. Lucien was there all day. I fell asleep waiting for the cake to cool so I could frost it. They must have left because-“

He pauses, his words rushing from his mouth, afraid you’d shut him out before they made their way to you. “I-they had me promise not to tell anyone, but Elain’s pregnant and they left for an appointment with Madja. They got back not too long ago, waking me up. I came straight here, forgetting the cake and your gifts.”

You lift your eyes to look at him for the first time and you know he’s telling you the truth.

“Gifts? Plural?”

A laugh breaks out from him, your obvious attempt to diffuse the situation. He pushes his hair back with a hand, and you finally take in how messy it was. He clearly had rushed over here, if it’s wind-blown look was anything to go off of. “I got you these incredible books that I spent ages tracking down. I was in Day earlier this week to pick them up.”

You perk up at that, “but you hate going to Day alone because Helion begs you to-“

“Then I had to stop by the jeweler’s.”

You perk up at that, your love of jewelry rivaling Amren’s.

“The jeweler’s?”

He smiles faintly, hoping he’s slowly convincing you to let him in.

“I had Winston take part of one of my siphons to make you a necklace.”

You still at that.

“Your- your siphon?”

He smiles softly, “yeah, I’ve been talking with him for years on how to best remove a piece to make you a matching necklace.”

You narrow your eyes, “years?”

“Yes, my love. We’ve gone through probably dozens of unused syphons to figure out the best method, he finally figured it out a few months ago.”

His hand taps his chest, where one of his siphons usually sits.

“I had a bit chiseled off of the one that stays on my chest.”

Your resolve crumbles, seinging open the door and launching yourself into his arms. He holds you tightly, and the two of you just stand there, enjoying the embrace.

The clock chines downstairs, but this time it’s tune is one of love, not dread.

You smelled him again, and as prominent as Elain’s scent was, you also picked up strong hints of Lucien and a soft, delicate scent.

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened. And nothing ever will happen.”

Your eyes are lined with tears, pulling back from him, you place your hands on his face, bringing his face level with yours.

“If anything did happen, or ever happens, I’ll skin you alive.”

“My love, I think if I were to ever do anything to break your heart, Nesta would put my heart on a platter.”

You giggle, and he hums out, “actually I’m not sure who’d get to me first - Cassian or Nesta.”

Your soft giggles soothe the erratic beating of Azriel’s heart, “Gwyn and Emerie might take a chunk out too.”

He pushes the strands of hair away from your face, guiding the two of you further into the toom so he can shut the door.

“Let’s assume that if I did anything to hurt you, there would be a long line of fae coming to hunt me down.”

He kisses you, quickly pecking your lips several times as he guided you backwards until your knees hit your bed.

“However I did leave my mate all alone on our anniversary.”

He crawls on top of you, kissing your neck as you close your eyes at the contact, “and I am very good at groveling.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #acotar writing #azriel x y/n #azriel angst

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covenofagatha · 1 month ago

Text

But you're my stepmom! (Part 8)

Word count: 2000

Warnings: smut, oral, strap-on, blowjob, mommy kink

Taglist:@stayevildarling@i-just-cannot@hazey-g@buttercandy16@320viada@evilangels-stuff@rmaximoff@morganismspam23@aboutcustardcreams@sasheemo@rigglemethat@walkethisway@mommywandas@r-3-becca@harknessshi @ihaveawifebutwerenotmarriedyet @polaris-likethestar @ahintofchaos

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you say, rooting around for your clothes. You find your underwear (cringing at how wet it still is when you put it back on) and your pants (which make your sweaty legs feel even more gross), but no sign of your shirt or bra. Agatha’s already pulled her robe back on and is fixing her messy hair in the mirror. “Have you seen my–fuck!”

“What?” Agatha stops, turning to face you.

Your face has gone white. “You took off my shirt and bra downstairs. They’re by the front door.”

“Shit,” she swears. “Um, okay. I’ll go down and distract him. You go find a shirt from your room and then say you came for dinner since you left early yesterday. When he comes upstairs to change, you find your stuff.”

You nod and before she leaves, she crosses over to you and pulls you into a kiss that leaves you breathless.

“We’re not done here,” she vows and then runs downstairs. You quickly go into your closet and find the first tattered T-shirt you can. You’re able to find a new pair of underwear and a skirt as well. You ball up the pants and underwear you just had on and shove them in-between the dresser and the bed and hurry down the stairs right as you hear the door to the house open.

“Hey, dad!” You say when he comes in, trying to slow your racing heart at almost getting caught. His wife was two fingers deep in your pussy not ten minutes ago.

“Hey, sweet pea! What are you doing over here?”

You glance at Agatha who is gradually backing over towards the front door. “I felt bad about yesterday, you know, having to leave early to help Wanda. So I thought I’d come over and we could all have dinner?”

He smiles at you. “That would be lovely. Let me go take a shower and then we can figure out what we want.” He slides past you to go up the stairwell and the moment you hear his footsteps upstairs you breathe a long sigh of relief.

“I think these are yours?” Agatha says teasingly, holding up the clothes she had taken off you. “Nice new outfit.”

“That was so close,” you laugh, actually not believing that you got away with it. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you want to keep being daring. “Get on the couch.”

Agatha raises an eyebrow at your demanding tone. “What?” She asks carefully.

“I said that I wanted to taste you.” You can hear the shower turn on from down here so you know you have about fifteen minutes.

“Honey, your father is right upstairs.”

“And?” You saunter over to take her hand and lead her to the couch. She puts up no fight when you push her down and sink to your knees before her. “That just means you have to be quiet.”

The corner of her mouth quirks up. “It’s so cute how you think you’re the one in control.” Agatha shuts up quickly though, when you suck a kiss into her upper thigh. Her robe has ridden up and you can almost see between her thighs. “Naughty girl,” she tuts. The mark also means that she can’t have sex with your father anytime soon.

You weave your hands between the backs of her thighs and the couch and haul her forward to get better access. She moans at the abrupt movement and bunches up her robe at her hips.

You part her legs and fuck, she is a mess. Wetness glistens on her thighs and her pussy is swollen and red, literally dripping. You can smell her. You just stare for a minute, transfixed. You had no idea you had this effect on her but now that you do, you will never be the same.

“Are you going to actually do something or are you just going to stare?” Agatha bites out through gritted teeth and your breath hitches.

“Do you get this wet for my dad?” You have no clue where that came from but all you can think about is her answer.

Agatha actually whimpers. “No,” she rasps. Armed with that knowledge, you go back down between her legs and glide your tongue up the length of her pussy. You watch her through your eyelashes as she bites down on a finger to stifle her moans. “Fuck, baby.”

She tangles a hand in your hair and pulls it gently. You make a noise that vibrates against her and her hips jump. She throws one of her legs over your shoulder to bring you closer into her and you can feel her calf flex against your back. You lick and suck and she lets out a guttural groan as you find her clit. Her fingers tighten in your hair when you scrape your teeth against it.

“You’re doing so good for mommy, baby, you’re gonna make me cum,” she says hoarsely. You keep doing exactly what you’re doing, furiously devouring her cunt, and a minute later, her legs tense and she cums all over your face. You let her ride her aftershocks out on your tongue, smirking at her struggling to stay composed.

She curses and then pulls you up by your hair, giving you a bruising kiss and then licking her wetness off your chin.

“Satisfied?” She says, a wicked grin on her face.

“Not even close.”

“Good,” she says, giving you one less peck before moving her legs around you so she can stand up. “I need to go put some real clothes on before your father finishes his shower. Don’t get into any trouble.”

When she goes upstairs, you quickly run your shirt and bra out to your car and stash them in your bookbag so you don’t forget them or leave them lying around in another precarious place.

Agatha comes back down wearing a hoodie and olive green sweatpants. The same sweatpants from the picture she sent you this morning. She sees you looking and she smirks. She reaches down and fists the fabric so it tightens and reveals a large bulge.

Your mouth falls open, your cheeks flush, and your brain short-circuits. She’s wearing a strap-on right now. She went upstairs, found her strap-on, and put it on.

It is impossible to think of anything else than her stretching out your cunt with it.

You’re trying to form words but sound just won’t come out and she’s immensely enjoying it.

“See something you like, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you finally manage to choke out. And then, with impeccable timing as always, your dad comes down the stairs. Agatha lets go of her sweatpants and gives him a smile.

“Figuring out what we want for dinner?”

“Maybe pizza? Agatha and I can go pick it up,” you offer. Agatha hums in agreement, looking curiously at you.

“That works for me. Let me go get my computer and I can order it.” He leaves the room to go to the home office.

“What are you doing?” Agatha asks, eyebrow raised. You shrug mysteriously and follow your dad over to the table when he comes back with his laptop. You all get a large pepperoni pizza to split and a liter of Dr. Pepper.

“It’ll be ready in 20 minutes,” your dad reads off the screen.

“We should probably go now, just in case there’s traffic or it’s done early,” you say. Now Agatha knows something’s up. The Pizza Hut is only ten minutes from here and there’s never traffic by their house.

But your dad doesn’t think it’s strange. Instead, he turns so he’s facing the two of you. “It’s so nice to see my girls getting along.”

You bite back a wicked smile. If only he knew.

The second you and Agatha get into her car, she looks pointedly at you. “Alright, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, playing dumb. “I just want pizza.” You don’t say anything else so she has no choice but to start driving.

You sit in comfortable silence for most of the ride until you tell her to pull over.

“What?” She asks incredulously.

“Pull over there,” you repeat, pointing to the parking lot of the K-mart that’s always empty. Sure enough, there’s two cars. She scoffs, but does as you say, pulling into a spot far away from anything.

Before she can ask what’s going on again, you unbuckle your seatbelt and climb over the middle console and straddle her. She chuckles, hands finding her familiar spot on your thighs.

“You made me come pick up pizza with you all because you want my cock in your cunt? You’re insatiable, honey.”

“You love it,” you retort, pressing your lips against hers. Like earlier, you don’t have a lot of time and she knows that too. She slides a hand up your skirt, pushing your underwear to the side to make sure you’re ready for her.

“I don’t know why you even bothered to put underwear back on,” she says casually, like she’s having a conversation about the weather. “You’ve already completely soaked through this pair.” You blush despite yourself, still a little embarrassed by how needy you get for this woman.

“Shut up and fuck me,” you tell her and she seems amused. She makes quick work of pulling her fake cock out from the waistband of her sweatpants, holding it with one hand while the other guides your hips onto it. You let out a long moan as you sink down on her. “Fuckkk.”

“You like that?” She pants in your ear, already doing the best she can to thrust up into you.

“Your cock feels so good inside me, mommy,” you whine, putting your hands around her shoulders to get enough leverage to bounce up and down.

“You look so pretty like this. My beautiful girl.” She peppers kisses on your chest, which flushes from her praise. You’re getting closer to the edge and she reaches down to rub at your clit. “Fuck, wish I could feel how you’re squeezing my dick.”

Your rhythm stutters at the image of that and then you’re riding with a renewed energy, determined to put on a show since she can’t actually feel. “I love your cock so much. I’m gonna cum all over it for you.”

Her hand that isn’t circling your clit wraps around your throat and you whimper. You didn’t ever think choking would be so hot. She leans in so her hot breath is against your ear and whispers, “Cum for mommy.”

You have to bite down on her shoulder to stop yourself from screaming. She hisses at the feeling but never stops fucking you through your orgasm.

You rest your head against hers for a moment, just enjoying the feeling of her inside you.

She pats your hip. “Come on, we have to go pick up the pizza. Can’t have your father getting suspicious.”

“Oh, but didn’t you hear? He’s so glad we’re finally getting along,” you remark, carefully sitting up and whining at the emptiness once her strap falls out. You move back to your seat and she smirks.

“Why don’t you clean up your mess quickly?”

You stare at her, a little confused by what she means, but you see her eyes flick from your mouth down to her purple plastic dick. You give her a knowing grin and lean over to suck her strap into your mouth. She groans, putting a hand in your hair, enjoying the way you bob your head up and down along her length.

“There you go, good girl,” she says, very pleased. You moan at her words and the taste of yourself. When you finally come up for air, she pulls you in for another kiss. It seems that she also can’t get enough.

When you’ve collected yourself and put your seatbelt back on, she pulls out of the parking lot and back onto the road to the Pizza Hut, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console. You reach over and lace your fingers with hers, your insides warming with how she smiles at you.

#agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha smut #agatha all along

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paulyenvol6 · 1 month ago

Text

Acting Out Of Love

Based on this request

Your husband Daemon and you have an ugly fight after which you don't speak to each other. Your children are quick to notice it though and come up with a plan to make you reconcile.

I loved this request and I had so so much fun writing this so thank you very much <3 Also, please feel free to send me your requests and tell me what you would like me to write

Contains: angst, fighting, fluff

Wordcount: ~5.67k

Masterlist

You had your lips pressed together and head turned away.

Your hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, anger controlling your senses and you felt so heated that you just wished for a cold rain soaking your body.

"I said no, Daemon.", you hissed at him.

Your husband had his eyes closed as if he tried to calm himself but it clearly didn't worked because he pushed himself away from the wall against which he had rested and restlessly walked back and forth.

"And I'm asking you once again, why?! Why, y/n?"

You exhaled loudly and threw your hands in the air. "Because she is too young. I can't believe I even have to discuss this with you. Visenya is 8 years old. Not old enough to climb on a dragon on her own. She can fly with you but she is not going to take off with Sirmai alone."

He rolled his eyes. "Gods be good, y/n! Our daughter is made of fire. She belongs on that dragonback. It's where she is alive."

You laughed out madly and approached him with quick steps.

"Yes. I want her to be alive. And if she is on that dragon alone nothing can assure me that she'll get back on the ground alive."

Daemon shook his head and lowered his head. "Visenya claimed Sirmai, she is not going to get her in danger."

"But she is eight, Daemon! Saena was 10 when we first let her fly on Cloudchaser and Wyllam as well."

Your husband raised his chin and defiantly chewed on his buttom lip. "Visenya is tough. And she wants it too."

You threw your head back. "This is so stupid, Daemon. I said no. I'm her mother and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life because you act irresponsible and emotional and without reason."

"Oh so I'm the bad father now, is that what you're trying to say?"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"No, but it in this case, yes. You're putting your honor as a Targaryen and as a dragonrider above Visenya's well-being."

Now it was Daemon who laughed and rubbed his tired eyes. "I can't believe you just said that…" He abruptly turned around and lifted his finger to point at you.

"I love our daughter as much as a father can love his child. But she is ready and maybe you can't see that but I can. I'm telling you, we should allow her to mount Sirmai."

You shook your head, trying to make your expression look as cold as possible. "No, Daemon. I will not allow it and so it's not going to happen."

He exhaled loudly and shook his head in disbelief.

"And I can't believe you are always coming up with that 'she's meant for it as a Targaryen'. Yes, the blood of the dragon runs in her veins but that doesn't mean that you can use that fact as a justification. She is still my daughter and as much as I respect Targaryen tradition, she is still half dornish and sometimes I have the feeling that you think of your side as superior and more distinctive."

He turned to walk away from you. "This is stupid…"

You glared at him and narrowed your eyes. "No it's not, Daemon."

"It is and I have no desire to listen to any more of your childish outbursts. I'm going to bed now."

You watched him with flashing eyes as he hasted through your chambers but before he passed you you held out your arm to stop him. Your head hit his chest and his eyes shot down to meet yours.

"You will not sleep in here tonight.", you whispered dangerously and Daemon frowned.

"You're not being serious, are you?" But you remained persistend and gestured to the door.

"I am. I don't want you in here."

He grinded his teeth and his eyes twinkled and yet he did as you had demanded and was quick to leave your chambers.

Once he was outside you inhaled deeply and sat down on a chair. You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to make your boiling blood calm down but it took you some time until you opened them and you were able to think normally again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You saw your husband again the next day for breakfast. Your children were playing by the fire surrounded by maids and servants and septas and when you entered Daemon was just reading a piece of parchment but lowered it when he saw you.

You on the other hand completely ignored him and didn't look at him for a mere second. You had decided to give him the silent treatment and just act like he wasn't there. So instead of giving him a morning kiss like you usually would have done you walked to your children and caressed your daughter Saena's dark hair.

Your children were a mixture of your husband's and your features. While Visenya, Wyllam and Meradith came more after Daemon and his Targaryen looks, your eldest daughter Saena and Orlyn had your thick brown hair and darker eyes and skin as their siblings. Meralith on the other hand was the pure image of her father. Silver straight hair, light eyes and the only difference to Daemon was her darker tan. The girl would soon turn 6 and you lovingly watched your children while ignoring your husband's presence.

Orlyn, your youngest just brought you a little dragon that his uncle had gifted him for his name day and pulled it through the air.

"I called him Aero, mother. And when I have my dragon one day I'll call him Aero too."

You smiled softly and caressed your son's shoulder. "That's a name fit for a fierce dragon, my darling."

Your son smiled contendly and babbled something while shifting his attention to his toy again. You straightened up again now and walked towards the breakfast table, still not giving a glance at Daemon. He on the other hand watched your every move but when he realized what it was you were doing he lowered his head as well and folded his hands in front of him.

He was way too proud to give in and talk to you. He was pissed and hurt (even if he wouldn't admit it) but definitely wouldn't communicate with you about his feelings now that you seemed so indifferent. So his expression changed to cold as well and he leaned back in his chair grabbing the parchment once more and fixed his eyes on the letter beneath him. If you were to treat him like this he would play along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next days you spent almost entirely ignoring each other. Of course you saw Daemon during the meals and when you spent time with your children but you didn't say more than necessary, never looked at him and especially never exchanged any sort of loving affection. You were stubborn and still furious and wanted him to feel that.

In your head Daemon had acted unreasonable and childish and you just hated it because you felt like he didn't actually listen to you. Why was it that you always had to keep a light head while he came up with dangerous ideas and plans and acted as if you were too controlling and scared. You weren't scared, you simply wanted your children to be safe, seven hells.

Daemon on the other hand was equally angry and couldn't understand your behaviour any better. To him, his suggestion was the perfect proof of his love to his children and he simply knew that Visenya would be perfectly fine on her dragon. He felt like you were controlling him and taking part in a piece of his family history that you just couldn't understand that well because you weren't a dragon rider yourself. Daemon was secretly hurt because in his understanding you were trying to claim that part of his identity and that translated in his anger.

And yet through all of his fury, he couldn't help but glance at you when you entered a room. Just like you also took care of him from afar, he had to make sure that you were alright, that you were eating enough and that you weren't overwhelmed with taking care of the children.

One time you didn't attend supper and Daemon had been worried when he found out that you had a headache. Everything inside of his screamed to approach you to take care of you but he couldn't get over his pride and he also wasn't sure whether you would even want him there.

So instead of visiting you, Daemon sent servants to your rooms every 10 minutes and ordered them to make sure you were fine and ask you whether you needed anything. In the meantime the prince walked up and down in his chambers and nervously nibbled at his nails. He hated this so much but what was he to do? He was a stubborn and proud person and remained angry with you. He certainly wouldn't be the first one to give and come apologizing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Four days after your fight, things shifted though because while Daemon tied his hair in the morrow there was a knock on the door.

A part of him hoped that it was you who finally wanted to discuss things but once he had ordered the person to come in the door slowly opened. He turned to see who it was and his face softened when he saw his daughters one by one peeking into the room. Daemon smiled gently and gestured them to come in. The three girls walked to their father who sat down on a chair and lifted his eyebrows at their careful and uncertain expressions.

"What is it, girls? You seem serious."

Saena, your eldest daughter nibbled at her thumb while glaring at her sisters.

"I-Is there something wrong?"

Daemon frowned. "What do you mean, darling?"

Now it was Meralith who stared at her father with big eyes and seemingly was sad. "You almost haven't spoken to mommy yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.", she mumbled and Daemon felt a little stitch in his heart.

He reached down to grab the girl under her arms and lifed her onto his lap. Then he caressed her silver hair out of her face and determindly looked into his daughters' eyes.

"Everything is fine, girls. Your mother and I have been very stressed the past days and sometimes there isn't a lot of time to talk to each other. But we cherish and love every second we get to see each other, alright?"

The only one who looked a little more relieved was Meralith on his lap but Saena and Visenya frowned and pouted.

"But it's never like that.", Visenya claimed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You never talk to mother or kiss her or even look at her."

Daemon shook his head. "I promise you that we have everything under control. In a few days there will be less things going on and your mother and I will have more time for each other again. You on the other hand – " He caressed his daughter's head. "Don't need to worry about anything."

Visenya sighed while Saena still looked suspicious but the three girls decided not to uphold the discussion any longer and told their father they would go in the gardens to play now. Daemon nodded feeling relieved and told them he would have to attend a small council meeting and reminded them of their lessons with their septa later.

What the rogue prince didn't know was that you just had had quite a similar conversation with your sons only a few feet away. Because Wyllam and Orlyn had knocked on your door even earlier. Orlyn with his four years was your youngest child and Wyllam had come to you with him because his brother had felt very anxious the past days because just like his sisters, he had sensed that his parents weren't on good terms with each other.

And so you had assured your sons that everything was perfectly fine, just as Daemon had your daughters. Of course you knew that you shouldn't lie to your children but this whole situation was already exhausting enough so you didn't additionally need your children to suffer from this. It was easier that way. Telling them that mommy and daddy were fine and they didn't have to worry about anything. And perhaps you would be. Maybe.

But Daemon and you didn't know that your children were way too smart to be tricked like that. They had left the both of you alone and pretended to believe you to some extent but once your three daughters had left Daemon's room and walked outside the castle to sit on a bench in the gardens Visenya looked at her older sister with a deep frown between her eyebrows.

"Do you believe father, Sae?", she asked and Saena thoughtfully bit her buttom lip.

"I don't know. I can't believe that we imagined this."

Tears were glistening in Meralith's eyes as she pulled at her sister's sleeve. "I-I want mommy and daddy to love each other.", she whimpered and Saena caringly wrapped her arms around the little girl.

"It's fine, Mera. They do love each other." But then she turned to Visenya again.

"But if father says so we are to believe him. He says we shouldn't worry and maybe – "

But her sister crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I don't care what he says. I know that something's wrong."

Meralith stared at her other sister now and pouted. "B-But no… Please Sae, do something."

Her eldest sister sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to say something when they were interrupted by their brother Wyllam who had sneaked up on his sisters from behind a tree.

"Arghhh.", he made and Saena shrieked. "Oh Wyllam, stop it."

Her brother laughed and held his stomach while Visenya angrily flashed her eyes at him.

"Not funny at all.", she hissed.

Orlyn stumbled towards his sister behind his brother and as with his sister Meralith tears swam in his eyes. Wyllam turned to him and then sighed.

"He is sad all the time and I wanted to play with him but he didn't want to so I thought you could take him."

Visenya reared up in front of him. "So you thought you could just bring him to us whenever he bores you?"

Her brother rolled his eyes and attempted to pat her head but the girl pushed away his hand. "Relax, sister. You are… girls. You are better with emotions."

That made Visenya jump at Wyllam and her fists came down to hit him in his stomach.

"I make you feel emotions now, you little – " Saena came forward and wrapped her arms around her sister to pull her back.

"Oh stop it, the both of you." Being older and stronger Saena was able to separate the fighting siblings and then once everyone was at calm again and Wyllam and Visenya only angrily glared at each other the eldest sibling kneeled down in front of Orlyn.

"What is it, little brother?" The boy sucked on his thumb and stared up to his sister without bringing out a word.

Wyllam shrugged. "It's because of mother and father. He believes they are fighting because they haven't spoken that much and now his whole world has been destroyed."

He rolled his eyes and indifferently plucked an apple from a nearby tree which he examined closely for holes or worms.

"Oh Orlyn.", Saena sighed and hugged her brother.

"I don't think there is reason to worry though.", said Saena then. "We've spoken to father and everything is fine between them."

Visenya cleared her throat while her youngest brother looked from one sibling to the other. "At least that's what he said. I believe that they have fought. It's always like this when they fight."

Saena shifted her attention from Orlyn to her sister. "What do you mean, always? They don't fight often."

Visenya rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. But when it happens they always ignore each other. Like today and the day before."

Saena tiredly rubbed her eyes. "I mean… Maybe you are right after all. I sensed something as well but I thought now that father has claimed that we shouldn't worry…"

Wyllam had started to eat his apple but now that even his eldest sister doubted their parents' reassurances he also looked a little worried.

"I've taken Orlyn to mother in the morrow. He was so sad that I thought if we spoke to her, mother could calm him. But though she did, Orlyn remained panicky."

Visenya lifted her eyebrows. "You've spoken to mother? And she said that as well?"

Wyllam nodded. "Yes. She said that her and father were perfectly fine."

Saena put a hand to her lip and hummed to herself. "What should we do now?"

Everyone stared at each other as if they would find a solution in their sibling's faces but no one came forward with a suggestion. It was Meralith who opened her mouth first.

"I want mommy and daddy to love each other again.", she whispered again with her eyes dropped to the ground. Saena, who felt the most responsible and caring towards her siblings took a step towards her sister and pressed the girl's head to her chest.

"They still love each other even when they're fighting, Mera. They are just not talking at the moment but they are still in love, do you understand me?"

Saena kissed her hair and felt her sister nod slightly. So she pulled back, having made sure that Meralith was fine and questioningly looked around in the circle. Visenya cleared her throat and rested her hands on her hips.

"We should do something. Give them no choice but to talk to each other."

Wyllam agreed and nodded. "We could lock them in the same room.", he suggested but Saena shook her head.

"That goes too far, brother. And how would you even do it? No, we have to come up with something else. Though I'm not sure if we even should interfere…"

Visenya rolled her eyes and walked back and forth. "Of course we should interfere, sister. Otherwise they're never gonna speak again."

Her youngest siblings looked shocked at her words and fearfully stared at her with big eyes.

"Stop scaring them.", complained Saena. "She is not being serious.", she then spoke to Meralith and Orlyn. "Of course mother and father are going to speak again."

Then the eldest girl sighed and looked at Visenya. "Fine. Maybe we could try it. We should make them talk again."

Her sister nodded contendly and clapped her hands. "Perfect. I already have a plan."

Wyllam frowned. "You do?"

She nodded and pointed at Orlyn. "What is your favourite game?"

The boy widened his eyes and his gaze wandered over his sibling. "Hide and seek."

Visenya nodded. "Exactly. Mother and father will notice that Orlyn is feeling a little weary and sad. So he will go them, perhaps separately and tell them that he would love to play a round of hide and seek with the whole family." She smiled mischieviously. "And then we will manipulate the game so mother and father are in the same team. Then they will have no choice but to talk again and everything will be fine."

The girl smiled proudly and looked from Saena to Wyllam waiting for their admirations but her sister frowned.

"What if they don't have the time? Or they don't want to? Father said it himself, they're very stressed at the moment."

But Visenya shook her head and sighed. "You forget that this was only an excuse, sister. And Orlyn just has to be persistent with them."

"I can do that.", her brother claimed and raised his chin.

Wyllam also thoughtfully hummed. "But what if they won't talk? They can play the game with us and still just ignore each other…"

Visenya realized that he had a point and his sisters remained silent for a moment. Then it was Saena who shrugged.

"We could try it though, right? It's not a perfect plan but it's better than doing nothing."

Visenya nodded enthusiastically while Wyllam hesitatingly tilted his head but it was decided. Meralith and Orlyn were seemingly merely glad that something was happening to make their parents reconcile and so in the afternoon Orlyn shyly knocked at your door while your handmaidens were brushing your hair that always got so messy over the day.

When you saw who it was you smiled softly and sent away your servants. Your son still looked a little sad so you took him into your arms, lifted him and caressed his dark hair.

"My sweet boy.", you purred while holding him closely to you. Orlyn crouched against your neck which made you close your eyes simply enjoying the closeness to your youngest child.

"Mommy?", he then hummed against your neck after a while and you felt the vibrations in your whole body.

"Yes, love?"

"Can we play a game in the gardens? Please."

You sighed and drew your face in a painful smile. "Oh Orlyn, it's really… I have so much to do…"

Your son pouted at you and you felt a little stitch in your heart at his dissatisfied expression. "Please mommy."

You chuckled at his dark puppy eyes that looked so much like your little sister's and suddenly you remembered the way she had looked at you as a child when she used to ask you to play with her and so you knew you couldn't refuse your son.

"Alright, sweetling. What do you want to play?"

Your son shrieked excitedly which made you deepen your smile and his hands grabbed your shoulders.

"I want to play hide and seek. With Meralith and Wyllam and Visenya and Saena."

You nodded and put Orlyn back to his feet. "Fine. As you wish, love."

And so the two of you walked out of your chambers and to the gardens where your other children were already waiting. You hadn't lied when you said that you had a lot of things to do, but when Orlyn had come to you earlier to ask about Daemon and you, you had sensed that your son was feeling a little worried and anxious, even after you had assured him that everything was the way it was supposed to be. And so you had decided to make some time for your youngest son to give him your love and affection and make sure he didn't feel sad and concerned anymore.

Now you stood with your children but just when you were about to ask them what teams each of you were playing in Orlyn excused himself. You didn't see the wink that was exchanged between your son and Visenya because their plan was it to get your husband now and in that way give Daemon and you no choice but to talk about your differences.

You didn't know that though and just watched your son haste inside the castle with a surprised expression but were quickly distracted by Meralith who showed you a bunch of beautiful flowers she had collected. You admired and complimented each of it and were leaned down to closely examine the flowers when suddenly your daughter shrieked and twitched. A bee had stung her on her arm and tears filled her eyes at once.

"Owww.", she cried and you were shocked when you saw the sting starting to swell.

"Oh no no.", you made and grabbed your daughter's arm to look at the sting. The girl cried panicky while your other children gathered around their sister.

"What is it, mother?", Wyllam asked concerned and you kneeled in front of Meralith.

"Saena, get the grand maester. Quickly."

Your eldest daughter looked equally shocked as your other children and swiftly ran off inside the castle.

"It's alright, sweet girl.", you tried to sooth Meralith even though you felt really scared yourself. Her whole arm was swollen by now and your daughter looked pale in her face though you weren't sure if it might be caused by her shock.

"Everything will be fine, Mera. Just look at me and breathe."

You had to keep a clear head and clam your children who all nervously wandered around and Wyllam had started nibble at his thumb, a habit he had since he was a young boy.

"Mother what's happening? It looks so scary.", he asked.

You caressed Meralith's shoulders and tried to breathe steadily. "It's just a bee sting. Saena will be back soon with the grand maester and then everything will be fine."

Your daughter's cheeks were coated with her tears and you just prayed that your words would turn out to be truthful. And then finally your eldest daughter returned, old grand maester Simon hasting behind her. He was breathless and held his chest as he kneeled down in front of your daughter.

"Oh gods be good. What happened here?", the old man asked and Meralith's lower lip trembled.

You took a step back to let Simon take a look at the sting and wrapped your arm around Wyllam and Visenya. Anxiously you bit your lip and waited while watching the grand maester doing his work when there was suddenly someone else entering the gardens. You had totally forgotten about Orlyn and the fact that he had mysteriously left the scene to get back to the castle but now your son walked out with Daemon.

All of a sudden there was a tightness in your throat and you felt the need to cry and just hug your husband. He narrowed his eyes when he understood the scene and hurried to Meralith who was still crying.

"Darling! What happened?"

It wasn't you who answered though you wanted to. Simon explained it to Daemon while your youngest frightened son ran to you and pressed himself to your legs. You petted his hair while you watched Daemon talking to his daughter with his eyebrows drawn together. His hands held hers tightly and then you head Simon speak again.

"First she should go to bed now and rest. I'll bring the medicine that she might require."

And so your husband picked your daughter up from the ground and carried her inside with Simon following close behind. For a brief moment Daemon and your eyes met and all he could see was the worry and angst on your face. Then they were inside and as much as you wanted to hurry inside too to by at your daughter's side, you had to calm and be there for your other children now.

~~~~~~~~~~

And that you did. You stayed with Orlyn, Wyllam, Saena and Visenya by the fireplace, read them from their favourite books and assured them that their sister would be fine.

It had gotten late and soon Wyllam expressed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed so that was what you did next. It took some time bringing each child to their rooms, covering them up with their blanket (the only exception was Visenya who insisted that she was old enough to do it herself), wishing them a good night and promising them that in the morrow they could see Meralith.

It was the hour of the owl when Saena drifted off to sleep and you sighed as you left her chambers. Your plan was to finally look after Meralith but just when you were about to enter her rooms grand maester Simon opened the door and put his finger to his lips.

"Shh. She has just fallen asleep."

He closed the door behind him so you didn't have a chance to peek inside the room.

"How is she? Please, I need to see her."

Simon looked pitiful as he shook his head. "She is fine, my lady. She will be fine. But you shouldn't disturb her now, it has taken hours until she was calm enough to drift away to sleep."

You exhaled bitterly. Everything was just so overwhelming and the worry about your daughter restricted the air coming to your lungs.

"Fuck.", you breathed because you had held back your emotions all evening and now all you wanted was to see that Meralith was fine and not even that you could do.

"I'm sorry. But she needs her rest, I recommend you come and see her first thing in the morrow."

You nodded though you felt disappointed and sad. Simon bowed his head and then turned to walk away from you. You were left feeling cold and lonely and in desperation. You inhaled a few times and then unwillingly returned to your chambers.

Once you were there you felt empty and numb but knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep now. You wished you could fall asleep next to your daughter because you were certain that her presence was all you needed right now to be calm. Knowing that you were denied that, you walked up and down in your chambers so close to tears but they just wouldn't spill for some reason.

Suddenly there was a knock on your door and absently you called "Come."

Only after the words had left your mouth did you realized what you had done. You couldn't bare the presence of anyone who was not Meralith right now and you wanted to slap yourself for not thinking before speaking.

But when the door opened your eyes rounded and it felt as though a weight dropped from your heart.

Daemon stood in the door watching you with tired eyes that in an instant made a warmth spread in your body. The lump in your throat seemed to somehow increase in size and now you felt that the tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.

You saw him gulp and then walk towards you and without speaking a word Daemon wrapped his arms around you. You held him equally tightly and for a moment you felt so relaxed and at calm that you forgot every worry or concern and the comfort of his body so close to yours made a few tears escape your eyes.

"She'll be fine, y/n.", Daemon hummed against your hair and you nodded against him.

"Yes. Yes, she will be."

Then you pulled away from him but still had your hands on his shoulders. "Did you see her? Is she in pain?"

Daemon smiled softly and caressed your back. "I did see her. She was scared but… no, she wasn't in great pain."

Then he pressed you against his chest again so you felt the warmth of his body and now you realized how much you had missed him these past days. Gods, how had you done it? How had you survived without laying next to him at nights, without smelling his familiar scent?

"I'm sorry, y/n.", he now whispered against your ear and your thumb soothed his collarbone.

"Me too.", you said and then once again pulled back to watch your husband.

"I know that all you did was act out of love for Visenya. I'm sorry for what I accused you of and I know that I perhaps was too hasty and I… I didn't think about what I was asking of you.", Daemon stuttered and you smiled softly.

"And I shouldn't have said that you were acting like a bad father. I know that you're not."

He grabbed your hand while watching you with these puppy eyes that immediately made you melt.

"I know that you're right. Our daughter should always be safe and I-I don't know what possessed me. There's nothing wrong with waiting another year until she will mount her dragon and I want her to be safe too. I just… I guess I just felt hurt hearing you speak about how dangerous it is to be on dragonback. It felt like you thought of dragonriders as ridiculous and imprudent. And then... I thought you were trying to take this part of me and my identity away. And then maybe I was scared that you would never allow Visenya to mount her dragon and that made me act irrational and emotional. Gods… I know that it was so childish of me to come forward with this idea and stubbornly insist on it."

He kissed the back of your hand and then you reached up to hold the side of his beautiful face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to feel you like that. And I know that you acted out of love as well. I know that you're proud of your family and your traditions and I respect that so much, love. I know that you want Visenya to carry this tradition as well and share it with her and just like you, I can't wait until she will. I don't think of dragonriders as imprudent. I think of them as fierce and brave and I know that Visenya will do an amazing job."

His eyes lovingly looked into yours and he squeezed your hand tightly.

"Thank you.", he merely spoke and then you leaned forward to kiss Daemon on his lips.

That night you didn't throw out Daemon. That night you didn't feel cold or lonely.

That night you held your husband tightly with his arms wrapped around your back while your hands were buried in his hair. You both knew that it would probably get way too warm in the night because a thick blanket was additionally covering the both of you but you didn't care. All you wanted was to feel Daemon again and so you drew patterns on his scalp while the both of you drifted away with your thoughts.

"I love you, y/n. So much."

You smiled with closed eyes. "I love you too, Daemon."

And then you fell asleep with your last thought being that you promised yourself you would never let such a stupid fight get between you.

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