#A horrible one but a memory nonetheless | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

councilofcastamere · 4 months ago

Text

WINTER NIGHTS | CREGAN STARK X TARG!READER ꧂

a b r i d g e m e n t : With tensions rising, your elder half-sister Rhaenyra arranges for you to seek asylum in the freezing land of the North. And fortunately for you, Cregan is there to show you how Northmen operate.

TW: penetration, loss of virginity, breeding kink, mentions gender roles but in a sexy way, sexual tension, sibling jealousy, childhood neglect, mentions of death by birth, shitty character development

A/N: I know the girly portrayed is Visenya but her body is tea in this so maybe I do know best…

The second daughter. The oh-so passed over maiden. Not belonging to anything, nor belonging to nothing. Not the first, and not the last. An ever enduring memory to a passed over era. Nothing significant. Never anything significant.

That’s what you were. Insignificance. A beautiful insignificance, if you could see beauty in tragedy. Beauty in all the ways of life. All the little horrible things that make up a big, beautiful, picture. People shan’t look close, you’d assure yourself.

But you were you. Born to the everlasting way of royal life. To the peaceful Viserys, and his second wife, a woman whose name is not all that important. Another maiden from a noble house that perished to childbirth. Lost her life, giving life.

And as it did not to many maidens, the Gods did not grant you the chance to grow up with your mother. The blood that dripped down her thighs had covered you from head to toe as you came into existence, and she had naught of you in her arms before a deep and long slumber overcame her. The stranger had come for her, and he did not slow down on its way. He’d taken her as quick as she’d given you to the world. A quick exchange, you’d suppose.

Now and then you think about her. What she might have looked like, what she might have liked, what she might have been had she survived the wretched burden of your existence. You’d often wonder if infants who survived childbirth ever felt as deep a burden as she did. To have your very first breath of life tainted with the death of an innocent. Tainted with tragedy.

Growing up in King’s Landing hadn’t been all that as it sounded. You’d never really been that happy, as ungracious as it sounded.

You had an older sister - Rhaenyra - who’d occasionally humoured you. You’d never seen much of her, really. Perhaps it was your own fault as well. For not actively seeking her out. For not being the younger sister one was supposed to be. Some people - as close to you as they may be - are just unattainable in your mind. Your kin aren’t your kin until you allow it.

You have better companions than her, you figured. You had your lady-in-waitings. Lady Vievenne of house Swann. Lady Laycie of house Oldflowers. Lady Claere of house Ambrose. Lady Evelyne of house Hightower, who was, by all accounts, a gift from your newest stepmother, Alicent of the house Hightower.

What you also had was younger siblings. Such as Aegon. Though he is naught but a skirt enthusiast, swimming along the sea of young maidens at his whim. But he cares not whether they are, does he?

And oh, do not get yourself started on the one-eyed prince and that smug little smile on his sharp-featured face. Nonetheless, he was gentle. Oh so gentle with his touch. And oh so sinister in the way that made you feel important enough to be in his good graces.

However, you chose to distance yourself from all parties involved as fate made it clear what it had in store. A great slap to the great Targaryen dynasty. A dark cloud looming over the already curse-clad clan.

For even you knew that the only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon, was itself.

“Sister.” you greeted one late evening, having taken flight to Dragonstone on your she-dragon, Starfyre. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“…y/n.” the elder sister called out, a small smile on her lips. “I… am glad for your visit.”

“…I’m certain you are,” you say, trying with all your might to contain a frown.

You eyed her awkwardly as she wiped her sweaty hands off her dress, letting out a sigh as the elder royal wasn’t quite certain how to approach the topic.

“I… understand… things quite haven’t been… that active, in our kinship,” Rhaenyra speaks up, taking a step closer. “And for that, I apologise.”

You could only nod, a small smile gracing your lips at the heartwarming confession of absent love.

“I apologise, also.” you smiled, your hands finding each other behind your back. “I suppose I should have been the one to seek your company and counsel as well.”

“Good.” Rhaenyra smiled awkwardly, a silence engulfing the echo-ridden chambers. “The reason, as to why I called you, might be surprising.”

You froze slightly, heart pounding as the possibilities of implications travelled through your mind. The goosebumps on your arms grew more prominent as a cold breeze passed through.

“Oh?” you answered, cocking a brow. “And what might that be, sister?”

“I ask of you to travel to the North,” Rhaenyra admits, a tone of seriousness overshadowing the warm moment. “I have already sent a raven to Lord Cregan Stark, and he has agreed to host you. If it pleases you, of course.”

No answer came out of your lips, save for your a mere breath. You felt a pang in your heart, consuming your every emotion, making certain you cannot detect how you feel about the news.

A dragon in the north? What a jest. You’d do better in Dorne, surrounded by sun-kissed squires and stable boys than laddish lordlings and Northern butchers.

“And… why should I?” you asked, respect in your tone. “Pardon me, my sister, but why have you made this decision for me?”

“Tensions are rising, y/n. You know that as well as I do.” Rhaenyra sighs, her body language giving up on its tense posture. “And I am aware of your… complex feelings on it. But to the North you must. I’m sending Rhaena to the Va-”

“Yes, because Rhaena gets to be hosted by a relative of yours, in safety. Meanwhile you sent me off to some Northern stranger!”

“Y/n.” Rhaenyra warned, raising a brow. She took a step closer as you composed your words. “You are my sister, and I will have you safe in the North. The Northmen are honourable men, and in time you’ll know.”

✫彡

And so you were, clad in thick fur, lady Vivenne and lady Evelyne at both sides of yourself. Across from you sat three servants, and somewhere else sat your sworn shield.

“It will be splendid.” Evelyne beamed, properly adjusting her hair, tied up in a bun, similar to the ones the older maidens wear. “We shall meet every dusk, and speak about our day. In front of the fire.”

“Not if I can help it.” you sighed softly. “Apologies, my ladies, but I’ll let you two get at it. I’d love to explore the North in solitude.”

“Right…” Vivenne nodded, looking through the small peep holes as the carriage slowed down, just outside the gates of Winterfell. “We’ve arrived, I suppose. You’ll have to greet Lord Stark. If he’s anything we’ve heard of and more, I wish you luck.”

You only nodded, watching as your ladies exited the carriage, standing at the side of the door. Their faces are cast down, as if in mourning. Perhaps they’re mourning the life of luxury provided at King’s Landing.

You could not blame them for it, really. From growing up in their own house, to growing up in the Royal house, to trade it again to live to see the snowy winters of Winterfell.

You shook slightly, the cold air hitting your face in an instant as you slightly lifted your dress, taking a step out of the three provided for the carriage.

You looked ahead of you, eyes locking on the noblemen and women, standing straight and proud. The women bore clothes of low quality, so obviously sewn to fit any class. The men wore dark furs, contrasting to the blue clothing of the opposite sex.

And in the midst of it, stood Cregan Stark, accompanied by a mere little boy of just two years of age. Your eyes locked upon his stormy-grey ones, his face etched into a stern expression, eyes focused on yours.

You maintained the eye contact, taking each step closer to him.

“Princess Y/N.” Cregan greeted formally, taking your soft hand in his. “Welcome to Winterfell. I am Lord Cregan Stark.”

“Thank you, Lord Stark.” you smile, curtsying in a fashionable manner. Your eyes stood glued on his as his lips brushed against the palm of your hand. “I’m truly honoured to be here.”

“…I’m certain you are.” Cregan answered, eyeing you skeptically.

Hearing false compliments wasn’t out of the ordinary for the wolf of Winterfell. He knew well enough that you weren’t suited for the North. You were a Southern lady, used to the life of feasts, luxury, and sparkly dresses.

“Let us go inside, shall we?” you smiled charmingly, looking up at the tall castle with dread in your eyes.

“Aye, so we shall.” Cregan nodded, his broad shoulders most notable as he sauntered into the opened gates.

✫彡

The first night went unfamiliar to you, the harsh blows of the cold weather creating a prominent presence looming over the already melancholic times.

You sat in your chambers, sitting at the stony window sill as you watched Cregan from above.

The lord was overlooking young squires on the courtyard, engaged in conversation with the knight in charge of guiding the young to-be-knights.

All dressed in fur, shoulders looking as if they were padded. Cregan’s hair was tied up, with two front strands escaping and hanging loose. His grey-blue eyes stood glued at watching the young squire’s techniques, and you could only sigh as you got lost in his appearance.

Ever since stepping foot into the North of Westeros, you’d developed a strange sense of interest in the beauty of Northern men. How they all dressed so grimly, but intimidating. How they’re oh-so honourable and hard working. How they always seemed so clean shaven but rugged all at once.

And you could not help but wonder what it would be like had you wedded one of them.

Being completely honest, you’d never really been the sort of maiden to stay inside of her chambers, waiting for her husband to return from his duty, deprived of affection.

With any Southern lord, being a doting unappreciated wife would never cross your mind.

But with Northern men, however, you had the feeling your efforts wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Before you could continue your vulgarly confusing thoughts, you saw Cregan’s eyes shift to yours, finding your gaze.

You could only lean against the window, a hand on the stony side as you gazed back at him. Your hair was loose, and you were dressed in your creamy beige nightdress.

You held his gaze for a moment, until ultimately turning away, leaving the implications of that gaze to his imagination.

✫彡

By the third day, you’d been reading in the old library belonging to House Stark. You’d sat on a plush seat, the dusty book on your lap as your gentle fingers flipped through the pages.

But you weren’t alone.

Cregan Stark sat near you, his knees in almost touching proximity to yours.

“Aye, the North is cold, but it’s honest.” he tells you, gently shutting his own book. “The snow doesn’t lie about its intention. No courtly games like they play in the South.”

“Oh, please.” you smiled, shutting your book as well. your body shifted so it was facing his, resting your head on one hand. “The courtly games are what makes it so fun.”

“Now, riddle me this.” You smiled, noting his full attention on you. His body language exuded calmness, and you felt secure in the knowledge that his comfort lies with you. “How do you not like courtly games? Personally, it makes my life all the more amusing.”

“I suppose it’s all jesting for you, princess.” Cregan said, his eyes resting on yours. “Amusement or not, I’d rather know where I stand…”

“With you, however…” His eyes trailed down to your bare shoulder, the white nightdress you’re wearing very much a sight of sore eyes. “I think I know.”

“Oh, do you?” you teased, cocking a brow. “And how so, pray tell?”

“Well…” he grunted, shifting in his seat to tighten the proximity around you two. “You’d do well not to cross any Northern man. They don’t take well to… courtly games.”

You only smiled at that, your upper body instinctively leaning in, albeit torturously slow.

“And, uh, suppose I… marry a Northern lord.” you teased quite coquettishly, a hand moving to rest on the thick fur coating his body. “What am I in for.”

You watched as his smirk only widened, gently taking the hand that rested on his fur, and taking it in his.

“Marry a Northern lord like me, and have your nights warmed under the thick fur of blankets.” he says, his thumb rubbing against your knuckles. “Northern loyalty runs deep, princess. That’s what you’d be in for.”

You nodded slowly, and you could not help but notice those coloured eyes of his descending onto your perky breasts.

Great, this was all going well so far. “I’d imagine… do you think he’d gift me a pup? I’ve always wanted a tiny pet, to keep.”

“Yeah?” The lord licked his lips, a hand resting on your waist. “You think you’d handle a wolf properly?”

“Well, I would.” you smiled, nodding in agreement. “I’m a dragon… and dragons do not surrender that easily.”

You smiled, shifting in your seat again as Cregan amusedly indulged you in your silly thoughts. “Just imagine it, my lord. I’d be holding that pup every night trying to get it to warm to me.”

Your hand slowly, but surely, trickled down to his clothed thigh, trying to maintain a sense of quiet intimacy.

“You’ll have your work cut out for you, then.” his voice lowered, bordering on husky. “Wolves aren’t so easily tamed, not even by someone with…”

He paused for a moment, a hand gently taking the one you placed on his thigh.

“…your charms.”

You’d have a cheeky comeback on the tip of your tongue, had it not been for Cregan’s lips descending upon yours, clashing together like Blackwoods and Brackens.

You let out a soft breath as you eased into the kiss, feeling his large hands grip your waists as if his life depended on it.

Your hands moved from his shoulders, to his neck, and then to his armoured chest. The armour he carried felt cold to your hands, yet it made it all the more sinful.

“Did you have this in mind?” you murmured against his lips, tongue circling his as you so sloppily attempted to kiss him. “Seducing me?”

The silence engulfed you two for a moment, only being overshadowed by the sound of soft breaths.

“You have it wrong, princess.” he breathed, firmly planting you upon his lap, your back pressing against his chest. “Do you take me for a halfwit?”

You smiled, looking over your shoulder as you attempted to chase his lips with yours again.

“No, but I certainly did not take you for a man so easily seduced.” you teased, guiding his hands to your clothed breasts. “You don’t seem the type to give in that easily.”

“Because it’s untrue.” he spoke up, lips brushing to against your neck. “But do you honestly think nothing would be done about the way you saunter around, looking as you do?”

His hands slowly tugged against your nightdress, pressing a hard kiss to your achy jaw before pulling away.

“Lay yourself down on the carpet.” he commanded, hands shifting to peel off his fur coat, along with his armour and tunic.

All you could do was nod and watch on as his armour went discarded on the floor, the metal material cranking against the stone ground.

His bare chest was now visible, the defining abs illuminated by the glowing fire. His hair messed up when he threw his tunic over his head.

“Cregan, I-"

And in one moment, you felt his large body overshadow yours, clashing lips again. Cregan lifted his body as to not crush you, hands on either side of your head.

You only permitted yourself to breathe unevenly, stead of moan. Your hands found his shoulders, desiring to pull him closer than possible.

“Ever since you’ve arrived you’d been nothing but trouble.” Cregan murmured, lips finding your throat. “Sauntering around with your ladies, endlessly teasing me.”

Your legs only shifted to wrap around his waist, back slowly arching at the kisses.

He took notice, and let one of his hands pin you down, lips descending towards your perky breasts.

“Gods, you’re wrong for this.” he grunted, swirling his tongue around the nipple. “For provoking me, as you did yesterday, and the day before that.”

“For thinking you have the authority to do this to a lord.” he breathed, your small breast fitting into his large palm.

“For…” he continued, kissing down your stomach, before ultimately glancing back at you “…thinking you’d get away with this.”

“I did not think I’d get away with this.” you tease, watching as he moves face-to-face again. “Which is why I did it.”

Your hands find his muscled arms, squeezing it gently. “I want to know how Northern men do it.”

You’d think you were jesting, but were you truly?

You’d have opened your mouth to say anything else, looking up at him, if it weren’t for the Northern lord himself roughly flipping you to your stomach.

“You wish to know, my princess?” he murmurs, unlatching his breeches. “You’d have your first time be with a Northman?”

You nodded, cheek resting on the carpet fabric without surrender. “Yes. Gods yes.”

He hiked your skirt around your waist, your plump ass visible to his peering eyes.

“You’ll be ruined for other men, aye.” He grunted, his hand wrapping around his rock hard cock.

“That’s good, because I desire no one save you.” you smiled, allowing him to lift your hips up and arch your back.

“Yeah?” he smirked, the tip of his cock rubbing against your damp hole. “You’ll have me make you my wife?”

You nodded, impatiently moving your hips. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it.”

“You’d be a good wife, wouldn’t you?” he grunted once again, head finally pushing into your unloosened clit. “No Southern games, no poignant looks of yours.”

“You like that about me.” you painfully breathed, feeling the uncomfortable ache of his cock in your newly penetrated cunt.

His head descended, placing gentle kisses upon your shoulders. “A maiden. Perhaps you aren’t as well-equipped to handle a wolf as you said you were.”

“I am.” you protested, pushing your hips back. “Move your hips. I wish to prove myself.”

He only speeded up his thrusts, and as you allowed the moans to fill your lips, his hands found a way to push your head down.

“You’d carry my pups?” he asked, thrusting into you aggressively, pumping his cock in and out. “Wait on my cock every night?”

You only moaned incredulously, asscheeks clapping along with every snap of his hips.

“Yes.” you breathed, gasp and claps filling the room. “Fuck, put a babe inside of me. I want your children.”

“We’ll have to wed sooner, before the babe gets born in wedlock.” he grunted, hands gripping your hips, pushing you back onto his thick length. “But that’s what you wanted all along, was it?”

You gripped the fabric of the carpet, cheeks burning as it rubbed against the irritating carpet.

“For a thick cock such as this.” he teased, tugging at your hair.

“Yes.” you moaned pathetically, cheeks flushed as you felt a knot forming into your stomach.

Your lips parted, your eyes rolling above-ways.

“Yes, yes!” you moaned loudly, feeling his hands grope your breasts. “Fuck, you’re moving fast.”

“Never fast enough.” he murmurs, member sliding against your wet slit.

He could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for all it is worth. His grip on you tightened as he thrust down to meet your upward motion.

And with one sharp thrusts, you felt the knot loosen and the cream dripping out your twitching clit.

Yet, he didn’t stop, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he rode you through your orgasm.

The feeling of your walls clenching around his cock was enough to send him reeling as well, burying himself deep inside of you.

Hot spurts of cum dripping out of your hole, you completely got yourself spent, closing your eyes and deciding you could just fall asleep on this carpet.

“No sleeping in the library.” he scolded lightly, putting on his fur coat, covering his naked physique. “Come here.”

You exhaustedly crawled over to him again, and snuck yourself into his coat, the clothing covering both of your naked bodies.

“I’m taking you to your chambers.” he sighs, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “And for the next time, do not attempt to get so exhausted. I went easy on you this time.”

2K notes · View notes

amoeganism · 5 months ago

Text

HIT BRAKE! sae itoshi

(Sae needs to practice his goals and you… driving)

~3.8k words, humor, fluff, angst if you grab a magnifying glass, use of soccer instead of football (i have too much pride to do that), theyre so polar opposite they unfortunately come full circle and match each others freak

Sae Itoshi returned to Japan with several new things under his belt:

The ability to speak spanish (although his grammar structure can use some help from time to time)

An insane growth spurt

Probably shell shock syndrome

And the scariest new update to a chronic Resting Bitch Face that you had the displeasure of seeing thrown your way when you accidentally ran over his ball driving home. Maybe this is why most Japanese people rely on public transport instead of using their licenses

TWO was the number of times you had failed your driver’s test. Yes, you could always use the bus or ask your friends for a ride, but college doesn’t start for another few weeks and you’re determined by pure stubbornness to be driver certified before starting school. You think you’re doing pretty good so far: no accidents, no being pulled over, no getting cursed, and no one loudly complaining about your skills (no one has trusted you to drive them). The only thing you had left to master was parallel parking.

It was a legacy in your family to be horrible at city parking.

One of your earliest memories was in the backseat of a rental car in a foreign country while your mother tried to park on the side of the street, only to get honked at by cars and drive against the flow of vehicles in a one-way zone.

A bag of groceries lie in the trunk of your car as you drive to your family’s home. Humming along to the song softly playing through the radio, you slow down as you near the residential area, confident that this drive will end without a single thing gone wrong. Without speaking, you jinx your thoughts as you jolt when your car goes over a bump and a loud wheeze follows it. Turning your head to the side, your entire body freezes and your eyes go wide upon seeing the pissed off glare of Sae Itoshi, the infamous Japanese soccer player who just returned from Spain with a sexy tan.

With a shaky hand, you roll down your window and immediately start tumbling over your rushed apologies. You don’t even understand what you’re saying but you hope that Itoshi somehow understands. When he doesn’t react, which is what you expected but it hurts nonetheless, you immediately shut up and tumble out of your car before getting on your knees and seeing what you ran over.

Your hand reaches and pulls out a deflated soccer ball, the entire thing flat with a large hole on the side from when it got run over by your car. You almost feel inclined to inflate it with the tears that are about to spill out of your eyes but the only realistic and socially acceptable choice was to give it to Itoshi and once again, apologize but with words that he and the average person can understand.

Itoshi mumbles a “it’s okay” before taking the ball (can you even call it that?) a once-over. “I have more at home, I’ll just throw it out.”

“Holy shit I’m so sorry about that I can buy you a new one just please don’t sue me I can’t afford a good lawyer, I’m in student loan debt.”

“...why would I sue you?” he asks, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion. It’s not much different from his normal expression, just a slight crease of his brows but it makes all the difference.

“I didn’t mean to assume that you’re gonna sue me, please don’t sue me for assuming!” You think that you should begin to pack your bags and take out a loan to move to another country. It would be easier to be a criminal than to deal with a conversation with a guy who multiplies your humiliation. “I just thought that you might get your super prestigious and rich and wealthy and prosperous and exquisitely-copious-in-currency soccer team on my ass ‘cause I ran over one of their balls,” you nervously rambled. Your face heats up at every word and one Itoshi divides into two Itoshis and two Itoshis split into four.

“Are you schizophrenic? I thought you were normal back in middle school,” sixty-eight Itoshis say in unison.

Your body freezes, the now one hundred twenty-eight Itoshis all morphing back into one. “Wait, we went to middle school together?”

“Uh, yeah,” he blinks, this time looking even more awkward than you. “We were in the same class for two years straight and I sat next to you the semester before I left. I think I would remember the kid who slept through each period but still got all the answers right when called on.”

“Oh!” You perk up at the recollection of a scrawny red-haired boy from five years ago, one who would try to not-so-discreetly look at your worksheet answers and peek at your notes during class. “You’re the boy who would always copy off my work. I do remember you!”

“Is that all you remember about me?” If Itoshi were any other person, you’d say he looked uncomfortable but all he did was tilt his head a little more to the left and shift on his feet.

“I mean, the only reason why you remember me is ‘cause I saved your academics without even knowing. Don’t think I didn’t hear our teacher whispering ‘good job’ to you while returning our tests and how you suddenly moved up in our class rankings.”

“Well you didn’t bother to hide anything when you were snoozing away so whose fault really is it?”

“You were gonna leave for Spain, anyway!” you point out, remembering being pissed off when hearing the reason why your seatmate left was because he was some kind of sport prodigy, basically having his entire future as a star secured at the age of thirteen.

“My parents would’ve killed me and held me by my feet if I flunked.” Itoshi grimaced, kissing his teeth and brushing his hair back as it had fallen over his eyes. His cheeks had returned to its usual color, removing the red flush of running and exhaustion.

“Huh, I guess I should be credited for your success. Spain should thank me.”

“Are we forgetting that I’m the one who plays the sport?” Sae’s voice came out harsher than he intended and cut through the playful atmosphere by the first syllable. His demeanor appeared unchanged but he felt himself tense.

Conversation had never been strong for Sae, only ever talking when he needed to and the most of his words going to his teammates on the field or his little brother. His success was a sensitive subject whether he liked to admit it or not. Spain served as an eye-opener to the teenage boy, being left in a country where no one looked like you and no one spoke your language. The only thing he could rely on was a translator he barely trusted and the expressions of the people around him.

When you don’t respond, Sae observes your face, noticing how you began to fidget with your fingers just as you had when you first stepped out of the car. You weren’t his previous coaches; you were just a former classmate who he happened to run into, or rather, you drove into. It was too late to laugh and he felt slightly guilty at freaking out someone that wasn’t his brother, an opponent, or a bothersome news anchor.

“If you want to repay me for the ball, meet me at the sports store nearby.”

“Sorry, but I don’t really know where you’re talking about,” you sheepishly reply, wanting to sink more into the ground with every word. You decide that talking to athletes is more tiring than playing an actual sport.

“Give me your number, I’ll send you the address.”

You hand him your phone, hoping he doesn’t comment on the horrendously cracked screen protector that you had been telling yourself to replace for months. At the same time, you also want him to notice the small possibility of him offering to buy you a new one, taking advantage of rich people or whatever. “I can pick you up if you don’t mind.”

“Should I trust you to drive me?” he asks, carefully looking between you and your car with his turquoise eyes as if analyzing his opponents on a field, only, this was a residential street and the only other player was a balding middle aged man walking his dog.

“I mean, you’ll be my first passenger so you can find out for everyone else.”

“If I get into an accident I’ll sue you for real.”

“I’ll try not to, I don’t have a job anymore and I’m going to college soon so even if I do please be merciful I swear I have good intentions.”

“Pick me up tomorrow at 11 and I’ll give you a review,” he decides, handing over his phone with the contact ‘Sae Itoshi’ at the top of your phone and the name of a sports store sent to your conversation. You ponder for a moment about asking for a contact picture but you’d like to stay alive for at least one more day so you bid him farewell and sit back in the driver’s seat, hoping he doesn’t hate your taste in music when you turn the radio back on.

—

The Itoshi residence is rather normal, differing from your expectation of a lavish mansion with fountains and fences of gold, given that Sae was a famous athlete and his younger brother Rin was known throughout the prefecture for being a mini Sae. The previous night when you had just finished brushing your teeth, your phone screen illuminated with the presence of a new notification: a text from the older Itoshi.

>make sure you don’t have anything planned for tomorrow

>i’ll need to try each ball out

>you did this to yourself

>shitty driver

A jolt of pain had struck your pride, crumbling your ego at the realization that he was, unfortunately, right about needing to sacrifice your entire afternoon to babysit a (grown) stranger whom you haven’t talked to in years; those conversations were brief, lacking any substance to consider them actual conversations. For a moment, the thought of bailing on him had crossed your mind, the idea of leaving him stranded at his residence while you enjoyed a night in, marinating before a tumultuous college career seemed insatiably tempting.

Disaster struck when you Googled Sae Itoshi’s net worth, his bank account leading you right to his front doorstep.

“Don’t get into any car accidents,” Sae told you as he dipped his head down to step into the passenger’s side of your car. You were suddenly struck with a moment of insecurity; a wealthy athlete who could probably buy your family and your ancestor’s mummified corpses is sitting in your car and is probably rich enough to get away with murdering you for having half a particle of dust fall onto his lap.

You realized you zoned out when Sae cleared his throat, blinking a few times at you with an unamused expression and eyebrows furrowed in judgment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, man. Just trying to remember the name of the place you mentioned. It’s a technique I use where if I think really hard in the same place I was when I thought of that thought, that thought I had thought of can reappear in my thoughtless mind.” You aren’t sure if you understand what you’re saying but you think you can get away with spouting bullshit if you use enough hand movements like a person on TedTalk.

“What the actual fuck are you saying?” Sae doesn’t seem to believe you but you’re an innovator—you simplify the problem down to something the average person (underling) can understand.

“Can you give me the address again..?”

“You’re a freak.”

Sae picks up your phone, which was opened to the navigator app, and quickly typed in the name of the sporting good’s shop he had mentioned the day before. It was a small place, smaller than you would expect a star athlete to go to for equipment but you suppose it makes sense at the same time: less people, less paparazzi, less crazed fans, and a selection of items picked specifically for trained athletes.

“So, uh, are you gonna make me pay for the ball too ‘cause I’m at least, like, five yen in student loan debt,” you sheepishly ask, hoping Sae can appreciate your humility in being a college student, taking a step forward in life by pursuing a higher education.

“How cheap are you?” Sae scoffs, letting out a sound that started off as half of a chuckle but ended as a constipated grunt, making him sound like a diseased lab-grown goat that was raised by war-stricken alien society. You think Sae should become an experimental musical artist if soccer doesn’t work out, sorta like a fucked up version of Björk who’s slightly less musically talented and a total cunt instead.

“I’m not cheap! I’m just curious. I brought my credit card just in case. I’m a responsible adult; this is all for budgeting and logging my payments or whatever else people do to save money.”

“You’re lucky you’re funny,” Sae comments as if it’s the most nonchalant thing in the world. For you though, you almost stepped on the breaks and begged him to repeat what he said. It would have been just another condescending compliment from anyone else but Sae Itoshi is notorious for not humoring anyone in the media and you quickly realized, even those in real life. Before you could doubt your memory, Sae opens his mouth again. “You lucked out on pretty privilege. All the bullshit you say would not slide if it came from any other person. I’m convinced the only social experience you have is talking to a mud wall.”

Any negative statement he had made went through one ear and directly out the other, keeping only the compliments for your brain to process. Without noticing, a giddy smile appeared on your face and to Sae, it was wildly masochistic the way you tolerated his foul personality and even relishing in his attention—no matter good or bad. He could almost pity you, deducing your attitude as a lack of self respect, but you somehow manage to surprise him every time.

“Nah, I think I had a lot of friends. I don’t know if we were actually friends but I knew their names so it’s probably good enough. Speaking of, there was this guy named Kota who I knew when I was seven and he seemed pretty cool until I caught him picking at his feet in the middle of class. Sometimes I wonder how he’s doing and if he’s still collecting foot gunk. But yeah, I think you’re just self projecting with the whole ‘no people, only soccer’ thing and moving to Spain with zero spanish skills. Damn, wait, that’s kinda sad. Shit, now I feel bad,” you take a look at Sae, searching for any sort of discomfort or offense but he simply shrugged.

“It’s whatever, they all bothered me anyways. I was there to play soccer, not make lifelong friends. It’s not like I’m gonna stay in Spain forever. I’m back in Japan to renew my passport ‘cause I know I’m gonna come back eventually.”

“You’ve already made a name for yourself and you’re making insane money that can last more than a lifetime for the average person once your contract is over. It’s not gonna be long before you get onto the Olympic team for Japan. When you do make it on, you better thank me for making sure you kept on playing by bringing you to buy a replacement for a ball I ran over.”

You drove into a parking lot with two other cars directly in front of the sports shop. The building was in the middle of a small plaza, adjacent to an udon shop and a bar. It was undoubtedly an odd place for a sports shop to be and that might have been what caught Sae’s eye in the first place. In the window display, a tennis racket and a pair of soccer cleats are put on display and on the glass door, countless advertisements for events and brands are taped on, each barely correlating to the others.

Right in the corner of the shop is the checkout where an elderly man sits, scribbling something in a beaten journal. There is a stack of newspapers behind him, every issue marked with highlighted annotations and then neatly folded as if it were untouched. Sae greeted the man and turned to find someone else, this time, being a younger man who appeared to be in his thirties or forties. He gave Sae a warm smile and shook his hand, not as a business partner, but as an acquaintance.

It’s here that you realize you’ll never be able to see the world the way Sae does. In your car he was just another boy in your neighborhood that you decided to get to know. But to others, he was Sae Itoshi, a prodigy who could conquer the world with just himself and a pair of cleats. Although his eyes are dimmed and his apathy anything but silent, his shine was lost to know one and when he boards a plane back to Spain while you settle into college, you think you’d be content calling him a shooting star.

Sae notices that you stopped following him and turns around in confusion, tilting his head to motion you to follow him. It takes a breath before you put your hands in the pocket of your jacket and tentatively follow him. It wasn’t until you walked into the store that you truly realized how out of place you felt and if it were just you and Sae, you might’ve thought to ask him what everything did. He’d call you a dense fuck and tell you that he plays soccer, that he doesn’t deal with anything else. You had even the smallest bit of shame so you kept your mouth shut and continued to trail after him, stealing glances at the stacked shelves until the employee came to a halt.

Before you was a wall, lined with four shelves of nothing but soccer balls, each decorated with the signatures of different brands and their series’.

“The guy said I can try them out in the back.” Sae tapped your shoulder and grabbed onto the fabric of your jacket, dragging you with him like a pet cat. “They have a lot of empty space there. You can help me carry everything I want to try.”

Agreeing turned out to be a mistake. In your arms you struggled to carry six different balls, with Sae dribbling one between his feet as the owner of the stop unlocked the door to the back where Sae would be testing things out. You felt like an overworked butler from some bad comic and in your head, you imagined yourself as a fainting princess—a damsel in distress being overworked by the evil kingdom in which she is supposed to be respected.

“Stop being dramatic,” Sae sighed, noticing your dejected pout and lost eyes. He could almost pity you if you didn’t look comically pathetic in the moment, almost adorable if he wanted to be slightly sentimental. “You can put them all down now. Just sit here and wait. Take a nap or something, you’ll be fine.”

The lack of standards you have would be an issue to address at a later date because the barely comforting words of the ever eloquent motivational speaker Sae Itoshi had you immediately perking up and cheering for him.

“Go! Go! You got this! Get that goal, ugly!”

“Who are you calling ugly? I could knock you out with this ball, you know. If you want to be supportive, don't be a freak.”

“Are you really gonna disrespect the only fan you have at the moment? What if I tweet about this and get you canceled or some shit?”

“Do you really think I care about that?”

“...no…”

“...”

“Whatever. Do what you want.”

“Kick that ball, little boy! You’re a prodigy! Number one soccer player in the world! Bend that net over!”

—

By the time Sae had finished shooting several goals and alternating dribbling between them at least five times, the sun had set and your throat was sore from bullshit cheering, half of which were incoherent sounds of moral support. Sae grabbed an unopened box of the ball he had chosen and denied a pump when offered one. When he placed the cardboard packaging onto the checkout table, your wallet was in your hand and ready to check out and pay off your debt to the Itoshi.

However, you were met with a receipt in your hand instead and a farewell from the owner, bidding you and Sae a happy rest of your day. You quickly turned your head toward Sae, mouth agape as your brain twitched, trying to process if he was fucking with you or not.

“Do you want me to pay you online or write a check or what? Wait, why did you pay? I thought I owed you it? My complaining earlier was all joking. I literally popped your old ball. The least I can do is pay for a new one!” You rant, quickly taking your phone out of your bag to open up your banking app but Sae was quicker to take your hand in his and bring it down to where it was before.

“And I was fucking with you too, dumbass. Or are you too stupid to remember back in the car how I didn’t respond to you asking if you needed to pay? Start listening, will you?”

“I think this is the meanest act of generosity I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not being generous, I’m telling you that you owe me something else.”

“What the fuck?” You’re perplexed by the audacity of this man. You hope his athletic career flops and every brand deal that he has gotten offered drops him. “Are you gonna start charging me an insane amount of interest like a loan shark? Dude, aren’t you rich?”

“I’m not asking for money.”

“Then what is it?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“Are you being for real right now?” You’re still perplexed by the audacity of this man. You’re perplexed by how his words are chosen to form the most foul sentences with sweet meanings. You’re perplexed by how out of all who know him, and all whom he knows, he would take an interest in you. But you’re a selfish person—if Sae Itoshi is offering his beauty and his awful personality to you, then you’ll take it with all your heart.

You move to Sae’s side, putting everything in your hands into your bag and intertwining your fingers with his, a dumb smile planted on your face. As you skip to the car and swing your hands between the two of you, Sae Itoshi’s grin is highlighted by the golden glow of the setting sun.

He really can’t wait to come home.

#itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk sae #bllk itoshi sae #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #bllk #blue lock #blue lock fluff #this fic is my farm fed organic almond baby

641 notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 7 months ago

Text

Picking Sides

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader, Cas & Winchester sister, Jody & Winchester sister, Mary & Winchester sister (all obviously platonic)

Synopsis: you get in a fight with Mary, and when Sam and Dean take sides you go to find someone to be on your side.

Warnings: feelings of abandonment, angst with a happy ending

You were hiding again. These days, it felt like you were always hiding. The bunker used to feel like home, but that home got smaller and smaller until the only place that truly felt like a sanctuary was your bedroom.

It didn’t feel fair to think that the arrival of your brothers’ mom took away your home, but that’s how you felt nonetheless. You wanted to be happy for them more than anything—your big brothers were everything to you, and they got back someone they had lost, someone they loved.

But that someone just so happened to look at you and see only the result of her husband with another woman. You knew it had to hurt—from her memory, it must feel like she’d last seen John only months ago, even though it had been over twenty years. So seeing his daughter—the one he had with another woman—being treated like family by her boys…that had to hurt. You understood that hurt, and you felt sorry for Mary because of it. But what you didn’t understand was why she had to make you hurt with her. Maybe she didn’t mean to—you couldn’t believe the worst about Sam and Dean’s mom, you just couldn’t—but it felt like she never wanted you there. And that disdain was starting to affect Sam and Dean. They could tell when their mom wasn’t happy, and it put them on edge. Because of that, tensions just kept rising until finally you decided that hiding out away from the common areas was best for everyone when Mary was around.

This strategy worked out well back when Mary wasn’t around much, but she’d been hanging around the bunker a lot more now, and it just wasn’t working. You couldn’t be in your room all the time, but any time you bumped into Mary the two of you seemed to get into a fight about something. Today was no different.

You only ventured out to get some food from the kitchen—but of course Mary had to be there.

“Where have you been?” She questioned, though she kept her voice low.

“Just my room,” you mumbled as you started to assemble a sandwich.

“The boys could’ve used your help, you know. They’re doing a lot of research.”

“I’ve got a laptop, I’m doing my own research.” You tried not to sound too snarky, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it came out that way…just a little.

“Well it would make things a lot easier if you’d join the group,” Mary chided. At this, you scoffed—you couldn’t help it.

“Like you even want me as part of the family,” you challenged.

“I said group, not family. You’re not family,” she insisted, her tone still neutral and her voice still low. Something about her trying to keep this horrible conversation nice and quiet just made you want to scream it all the louder. Unfortunately, you did it at the wrong moment.

“Says the one who hasn’t been here for twenty years! Don’t pretend you’re more of a family to Sam and Dean than I am!”

“Hey now!” Dean’s voice snapped you out of your anger for a split second, and turned it to shock—you didn’t know he was so nearby. “That’s enough!” He directed his anger towards you—of course he hadn’t heard Mary’s words.

“But I was just—“ you began, but Dean didn’t let you get far.

“I don’t care what you were doing, I heard enough! Now I think you should go to your room.”

You took a deep breath, desperate to tell your side.

“But you didn’t hear—“

“I heard enough!” Dean was yelling now, and his sudden rise in anger had you taking a surprised step back. “Now go to your room! You’ve done enough damage.”

“B-but De—“

“I said go! And don’t you come out. I’ll come get you when I think you’ve had enough time to think about what kind of consequence your words have. Go!”

It wasn’t often that Dean looked so tall—he was always the “short one” compared to Sam. But now—looming over you like the shadow of a mountain, nothing but anger written on his features—no one had ever looked bigger, and you had never felt smaller. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pathetic, you felt tears start to prick behind your eyes. You twisted around and ran for your room before Dean could see them.

You made sure you were well behind your door with the lock in place before you felt safe enough to let the tears fall.

…

Mary was silent as she watched you run. There was a cacophony of thoughts banging around in her head, and it was so distracting that it took a moment for her to hear Dean talking to her.

“Mom? Mom?” Dean was right in front of her when she finally snapped out of it. “I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what’s been going on with her lately, but she shouldn’t have said that to you. I’ll talk to her.”

But Mary didn’t want that. In fact, she felt sick to her stomach. Ever since she had learned about your existence, she had felt almost in competition with you. Somehow, you being the result of John’s relationship with another woman made Mary feel as though you were somehow responsible for it, or complacent with it. Deep down she knew that that was wrong, but she couldn’t help the feelings. So instead, she had been justifying them, and using those feelings as an excuse for how she was trying to win the boys’ affection over you.

But just now, she had seen you for what you really were—not competition for her sons’ affections, not some sick reminder of John’s love being given to someone else taunting her; no. She had seen a scared little girl being rejected and reprimanded by her big brother and father figure, and it had been Mary’s fault.

“No, Dean…” Mary sighed. “I wish you hadn’t done that. She didn’t deserve it.”

Dean was confused. “But she—“

“I said some things to her that…well, let’s just say I deserved what she said. I mean it Dean, I screwed up, not her.”

Dean looked torn for a moment—after all, the only part he had heard were some awful words on your part—but then the scene replayed in his mind, and he saw you; your hands were shaking, your lip was quivering, and Dean had just kept on yelling.

“Oh man,” Dean sighed. “I need to talk to her.”

…

You didn’t let the tears fall long before you made a decision; you couldn’t stay here. You could deal with Mary not wanting you here, but you couldn’t deal with your brothers choosing her over you. That was the last straw.

You had a bag packed far too quickly, and you found yourself lingering in your room, trying to find an excuse not to go. This was your home—you didn’t want to leave.

Then an image of Dean screaming at you flashed in your mind—

“I said go! And don’t you come out.”

This wouldn’t be a one-time thing—it couldn’t. Dean had picked Mary over you, and it would only get worse. You had to go.

You slung your bag over your shoulder and went straight for the door.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice broke your stride for a moment, but you didn’t stop. “Hey, where are you going?”

“Out for a walk,” you huffed.

“I thought Dean told you to stay in your room,” Sam challenged. You froze for a moment.

“You heard?” You asked, hope sparking in the back of your mind. Maybe Sam would be on your side!

“Not everything,” Sam admitted. “But enough. I think you should stay in your room.”

Disappointment didn’t begin to cover what hit you then—Sam, taking Mary’s side too, without even knowing the whole story!

“And I think you should mind your own business,” you grumbled, going out and slamming the door behind you.

…

There was a cab waiting for you—you’d called one while you were packing—so you were already being carried away from the bunker by the time Sam followed you out the door.

The cab took you as far as the bus station, and from there you got on the first bus that would take you to Sioux Falls—to Jody.

You’d been praying to Cas since you’d left, but he must’ve been busy in heaven or something, because he hadn’t come. So Jody’s it was.

…

“I was wondering if you were going to show up.�� Jody’s greeting when you arrived on her doorstep was less than conventional.

“What?” You questioned as she let you into the living room.

“Your brothers have been calling me every ten minutes for the past two hours, hoping you’d find your way over here. They’re worried about you.”

“I don’t know why,” you muttered under your breath, but Jody caught it.

“What do you mean you don’t know? Those boys worry over you like mother hens, they always have.”

“Not lately,” came your dull response. “Lately Mary’s more important.”

“Hey, now that isn’t fair,” Jody argued. “They just got her back from the dead. Just because their attention is a little divided—“

“It’s not that.” You huffed. “She doesn’t want me around. And they’re starting to take her side. They used to treat me like their sister, and now they…” you cleared your throat, blinking fast suddenly. “And now they treat me like…just John’s illegitimate kid. And I know that’s what I am, I just…I never felt it before.”

“Wait, kid…” Jody sighed, her hands coming up to hold onto your shoulders. “Kid, that is not who you are. You are so much more than that, and I’m sure if we talk to Sam and Dean, they’ll—“

“No,” you insisted, starting to panic. “I don’t want to talk to them right now, I just can’t. Please, you can’t tell them I’m here.”

“They’re gonna call again,” Jody said.

“You can’t—“

“Y/N.” You were interrupted by a flutter of wings and the deep voice of your favorite angel. “I heard you, what’s wrong?”

“Cas.” Your panic ebbed as you lurched forwards and wrapped your arms around Castiel. He held you close, quick to ask again—

“What’s wrong, what happened?”

“She ran away,” Jody spoke up. “Problems with Mary.”

“Oh, little one…” Cas sighed. “You—“

“Don’t tell me to go back!” You said as you pulled away from Cas. “You haven’t been here, you don’t know what it’s been like!”

“They’re your brothers,” Cas argued.

“But they don’t want to be. They want their legitimate family, and I’m not gonna get in the way anymore.”

“Hey.” Cas bent down to better look at you. “What makes you say that?”

“They just took her side.” You found it suddenly hard to speak around the lump in your throat. “De just-just took her side without even asking me what happened. He screamed at me, I’ve never-I’ve never seen him so angry before. He wanted me to go away, so-so I went. And Sammy didn’t even know what happened either, but he took her side too!”

“What did happen?” Cas asked gently.

You shook your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Cas reached down and hooked his fingers under your chin, tilting your downturned head up to look at him.

“It matters to me.”

Your lip was quivering and your hands were shaking by the time the first tears fell.

“She said that I’m not family. I mean I-I always knew she didn’t want me around, but…” you swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to stifle your tears. “But she’s never been this mean before. She said I’m not family, Cas. And Sam and Dean took her side.”

“They agreed with her?” Cas’s face was scrunched slightly in confusion.

“N-no,” you admitted. “But when I tried to argue with her, Dean yelled at me.”

“You should talk to them,” Cas suggested. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“I don’t want to talk to them. Cas, please,” you pleaded.

“Alright, alright,” Cas relented. He was going to make you talk it out with your brothers…later. Right now you were too angry, too hurt. You just needed someone you could trust, and Cas would be that for you for as long as you needed before he could fix your relationship with your brothers.

“They’re going to keep calling,” Jody spoke up.

“Don’t answer, please,” you begged.

“Then they’ll just come here,” Jody said.

“I’ll talk to them if you don’t want to,” Cas said. “Please let me talk to them. I know we can fix this.”

You were silent for a moment, letting yourself process before you spoke.

“I don’t want to see them right now.”

“Then you won’t,” Cas promised. “Just let me talk to them.”

“Ok,” you sighed after another long moment. “But…Cas? Can you…will you…please just don’t take their side,” you pleaded. “Maybe it’s not fair to ask, I just…I just need someone on my side.”

“I’m on your side,” Cas assured you. “Always.”

…

“They’re here.” Jody’s announcement had you more nervous than you thought you’d be. The fear that Dean might yell at you again—this time for running away and disobeying him—was suddenly very real.

It was weird to be afraid of your big brother; it was unnatural for you. But you couldn’t get the image of him screaming at you out of your head, neither could you get the feelings it gave you to go away.

“Y/N?” You snapped out of your thoughts to see Cas standing in front of you. “I’m going to go talk to them, alright?”

You glanced out the window, hoping the sight of your big brothers might somehow give you a different—better—memory to focus on. Instead, you saw a third figure exiting the Impala with the boys; Mary.

“They brought Mary.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper, but still Cas heard and turned to look out the window.

“I’m going to talk to them,” he repeated, only this time his tone was devoid of comfort and filled with rage.

…

“You should wait in the car.” Cas directed his order at Mary, who looked taken aback.

“I came to—“

“If you value your immediate safety, do what I said.”

Mary retreated to the Impala without another word.

“What was that?” Dean demanded. He hadn’t heard Cas talk like that in long time—unless it was to a demon.

“Don’t question me,” Castiel barked. “Not after what you did. And especially not after you brought her—“ Castiel gestured towards the impala, where Mary was waiting— “here. Do you know what she said to your little sister?”

“I don’t—“ Dean began, but Castiel interrupted him.

“No, you don’t, because you didn’t ask. You didn’t get her side, you just yelled at her.”

“And I’m trying to fix it,” Dean said.

“Well she doesn’t want to talk to you.” Castiel crossed his arms in front of him, all but blocking the doorway. “You did that, Dean. Your own little sister is too scared to talk to you, because she thinks you’ll yell at her again. She thinks you’ll pick Mary over her—again.”

“Cas, c’mon,” Dean pleaded. “I want to tell her I’m sorry. Just let me talk to her.”

“I already told you—she doesn’t want to.” Cas left no room for argument.

“Look,” Dean sighed. “Just tell her I need to talk to her. Tell her—“

“Tell her I’m sorry.” Both Dean and Cas turned at the sound of Mary’s voice as she stepped out of the Impala. “Please Castiel. Tell her I was wrong, and that I’m sorry.”

Cas stared at Mary long and hard before seemingly coming to a decision.

“Come with me.” Cas led them into Jody’s house, but stopped them firmly in the living room. “Stay right here. I’m going to go talk to her.”

Cas’s departure brought silence into the house for several long seconds.

“Do you mean it?” Dean’s sudden question threw Mary for a moment.

“What?”

“The apology. Do you mean it? Because on the off chance that she actually lets us in there, and you get to say that apology, you’ve gotta mean it, because she’s going to know.”

Mary was silent for a moment.

“I do mean it. Look, things have been…hard for me. I know to you guys, your father had years to mourn me before your little sister happened. But for me—it feels like I just woke up, and suddenly I find out my husband had a child with another woman. It feels so wrong; but I know that it isn’t Y/N’s fault, and I know that I was wrong to blame her for it. And I see how close the two of you boys are to her—and how close she is to you; that’s going to have to be enough for me. So yes, I do mean my apology—I truly was wrong.”

“Ok.” Your voice startled mother and son, who both whirled to face you.

“Ok?” Mary asked tentatively.

“Well, no,” you amended. “It’s not ok. But I do forgive you.”

“Understood,” Mary said, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. “And thank you.”

“Things can’t stay the same,” you continued. “I can’t be treated like an outsider in my own family anymore.”

“I understand that too,” Mary promised. “Things will change—I will change them—I promise.”

“Ok then.” You sighed, your eyes flickering over to Dean. The silence went from contemplative to awkward very quickly.

“I’m going to go wait in the car,” Mary said quietly, slipping out the front door to give you and Dean some private time.

“That went well,” Dean said awkwardly.

“Don’t make jokes,” you commanded.

“I’m sorry.”

“You hurt me.” You forced your gaze not to waver as you confronted your big brother. “Not just because you yelled at me; because you picked her side without even listening to me. It was like I didn’t even matter.”

“Y/N—“

“No. It’s my turn now. It’s not just Mary that has to make things better at the bunker. I-I can’t live with being walked over or ignored because you guys choose her. I know she’s your mom, and I would never, ever ask you to choose me over her. But she would, and she has. And you’ve picked her. And that hurts, De.” The tears in your eyes were threatening to fall, but you refused to let that stop you. “It really, really hurts.”

“Sweetheart…” you were in Dean’s arms before you could even think about protesting—not that you wanted to. It felt like it had been forever since his arms had been around you—since you had felt so truly at home. “N/N I’m so, so sorry. I’m not gonna let that happen again, ever. Even if Mary goes back on her promise, and she doesn’t change things, I will. I’m not gonna let anybody walk over you again. You’re important to me—I’m never going to let anyone tell me to choose someone over you, never. I know that doesn’t take back what I did—what I said to you—but…but can you forgive me anyway?”

Your grip tightened on Dean, and he didn’t try to pull away.

“Of course I forgive you.”

“So…” you let Dean pull away from you, but he kept hold of your hands. “So you’ll come home? Sammy’s waiting with some ice cream and another apology for you.”

You giggled, wiping the remaining tears off of your cheeks.

“Yeah. Yeah I’ll come home.”

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee

483 notes · View notes

taskforce420 · 5 months ago

Text

tap out. simon 'ghost' riley

it didn't take a genius to know that simon riley, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of his line of work. he was the shell of a man, a living ghost if you will; but people knew he was not one to be taunted or made fun of. sure he was a broken man, but he'd never take disrespect.

it did take a genius to know that you, had been through hell. no family, close to no friends outside of your line of work. you were quiet, always kept to yourself, never caused much trouble, unless you were on the field getting your hands dirty- bloody even. no one knew about your past, your story. but you liked it that way.

so, here you and ghost stood. arms behind your back, standing at ease, looking straight ahead.

as of right now, a common army tradition was ongoing, 'tap out' it was called, where the soldiers stood at ease as they waited for their loved ones to tap them out, letting them move, talk, interact with their family etc.

your gaze slowly shifted from the ground, to the families crying tears of happiness as they saw their son or daughter again after months or years of them being gone. mothers held their sons close to them, fathers cheered and praised their daughters for their accomplishments.

and you? well, you stood there, wishing to yourself, that maybe seeing your mother and father pass away was all a dream and that you'd see them walking over to you any minute, with wide smiles and excited cheers.

and ghost? well, he didn't care about the fact that no one was there to see him, to congratulate him; he cared that you, his closet friend since the beginning of training, was stood there. alone.

he didn't understand why, but he could probably guess. nonetheless, he watched as you uncomfortably shifted your weight from one foot to the other. he noticed you didn't want to be there, didn't want to have to listen to the laughs and 'hellos' of mothers and fathers.

ghost could relate, he let out a deep sigh; letting his arms drop to his side, he moved from his spot. he knew full well that he was breaking rules but as of now, he didn't care. not one bit. he walked over to you, eyes meeting with yours almost instantly.

"come on, luv." he said, as comforting as he possibly could. he raised his hand to your shoulder, officially tapping you out. he could see the hurt in your eyes.

"thanks, si" he nodded as you thanked him, he felt horrible knowing your pain.

you let your hands come to your sides, subconsciously, you started to fidget. your rough fingertips played with the hem of your t-shirt. "its not fair that they make us do this.." you said softly, head hanging low, watching your feet as you both walked back into the base, knowing you had nothing better to do.

"mhm" is all ghost said as he looked down at you, clearly seeing your defeated mood. "i wouldn't dwell on it, sweetheart. i know what your thinking" you nodded, not really bothered to speak. you appreciated ghost walking with you though, keeping you company.

"your family is here now, us, me...soap, gaz, price. the whole force, your brothers, your sisters" ghost spoke. you knew he was right, you got along incredibly well with the members of Task Force 141, there were many years full of core memories with the lot of them.

like the time when you and soap got bored one night so you snuck out of the base and found yourselves at a water bank, completely soaked from jumping in. you both laughed uncontrollably as you splashed one another.

or even when you and price sat in his office, having a deep conversation about previous missions, his past, life in general. you two agreed that you had bonded, ending the night with a simple hug.

or that time when you and gaz decided to go a nearby bar, its safe to say that you both got absolutely hammered from the mixed alcohol in your system. you laughed with one another as you stumbled back to base, holding onto one another. laughing even harder as price and soap caught you in your drunken state.

or...or even the time with ghost.

when you two lay on his dishevelled bed, your back to his chest, his arm lazily thrown around your waist, holding you against him for comfort. his hand traced the scars on your waist, your hips, your legs. you stared out the window, smiling to yourself. nothing serious had happened...you both just adored the company of one another, which is why you found yourself falling asleep to the feeling his breaths on your shoulder, and his hand caressing your skin. "you okay?" he had asked you, moving to lie on his back. you had turned to face him. smiling when you saw him already looking at you, his arm rest behind his head. "mhm, always" you had softly spoke.

you smiled to yourself as you finally walked into the base, simon still by your side. "yeah..you're right" you said looking up at the large man. he happened to look down at you, you swear you could see him smile beneath his mask.

"i know..."

lemme know if you guys would like a pt. 2 :)

#call of duty #fanfic #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost x you #ghost x reader #task force 141 #fluff #cute #cutie patootie

385 notes · View notes

weepingchronicles · 2 months ago

Note

Hi! I saw your requests are open, so could you please do a Jinx x fem! Reader where the reader gets hurt badly after a fight (maybe after episode 6?) and almost dies? How would Jinx react? And make it angsty and fluffy please. Thank you! 🩵

a/n: aaa i didn't know if you wanted yandere or not but i did it anyways, i am very sorry if you didn't want yan!jinx. i didn't know if you meant season one or two but to be honest i couldn't remember anything anyways so this is just a made up fight! hope you dont mind <3

❝yandere!jinx x fem!reader getting injured❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Believe it or not, Jinx drops everything once she notices you are hurt, especially if it is critical. Of course, if she is distracted by the fighting and adrenaline of a fight, it might take her awhile to notice until you collapse or the fight is over. I imagine pre-shimmer Jinx would be more attentive and notices if you are hurt even a bit.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But basically, she drops everything and would rush to your side nonetheless. She will kneel by your side, assessing your injuries. Oh god, that is a lot of blood. Since when did you have so many wounds?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thousands of thoughts swarm around her head. She is so scared of losing you, she can't lose another person she loves. She just can't. Voices of her adoptive brother's voice ring through her head and even Silco's. Saying things like how she just hurts everyone around her, this was bound to happen eventually. No wonder Vi didn't want her to come on the mission. She's a jinx.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Thankfully, the marching and yells of incoming enforcers awakens her from her delusions. She scoops you in her arms pretty easily and rushes home to save you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 But as she is racing away with you in tow, she looks down seeing your colored eyes begin to gloss over and droop, your skin getting colder and colder. No.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Without much thought she rushes you to Singed. He helped Silco save her, why couldn't he now?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once you fully awaken you are not the same. The surgery was a success but your mind feels almost split into two. Your mind conjured the most horrible memories and distorted them into something worse. But Jinx was beside you through all of it.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You find your head laying in Jinx's lap, her painted nails twirling some strands of your hair between her fingers. She notices you, "Oh! You're awake!" She jumps and sit you upright. She is smiling but something in her face makes you believe she is worried, worried for you. Her motions are more jittery than usual.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She brings you a small makeup compact excitedly and open it up, showing your reflection through the small mirror. Your eyes were not the same color anymore. Instead they were a magenta color, something unnatural and not you. It almost reminds you of— "Now we match!" Jinx exclaims excitedly, as if you'd be happy.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "What did you do to me, Jinx?" You focus your gaze back onto her, feeling anger rising in your bones.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx scrunches her face, "What did I do? I saved you!" she says, practically snarling at your accusatory tone. She stands, throwing the makeup compact harshly at you.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "You were going to bleed out in my arms so quit looking me like I'm some.. some monster!" Her voice breaks on the last note, showing her insecurity. You knew all about Jinx's past, about Vi.. Vander. You promised to never do the same thing to her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You take a deep breath in. reassessing your situation. Yes, you were.. different but you were fine, right? Your wound were gone and in fact, you felt more alive than before. More hyper-aware, like you are a fresh eyed baby seeing the world new again.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm.. I'm sorry, Jinx. I just feel so confused.. and different." You hunch over, cradling your own head in your arms.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Jinx's look pities, all tension disappearing at the sight of your struggle. She knew exactly what it felt like, how violating it felt.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She kneels down in front of you, looking up and gently removing your hands from your face. "I know, I know what you must feel. But I promise. . I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have no other choice. Please."

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You lean down, pressing your forehead to Jinx's in an act of understanding and. . affection. "I believe you, thank you for saving me. We will get through this together, okay?" Jinx nods hurriedly, her eyes all wide and thankful.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 The rest of that day was spent with lots of cuddles and talking, maybe this new you wasn't that bad as long as you have Jinx.

a/n: why was this kind of a soft yandere for jinx? oh well. . it was really cute!! i hope you enjoyed :3

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #arcane #yandere arcane #yandere drabble #yandere hcs #yandere jinx #jinx arcane #soft yandere #willing darling

233 notes · View notes

hisfavegirl · 2 months ago

Note

part 2 of the queen grief? it’s soooo good😭

My happiness - King! Aegon II Targaryen x TwinSister!Reader.

summary: you try to get up and come back for your two children after the tragedy, you also find out some good news that makes you even happier.

The days after your son’s funeral blurred together in a haze of grief. You withdrew from the world, confining yourself to the quiet solitude of your chambers. You avoided the bustling halls of the Red Keep, the courtiers, and even the council meetings. The thought of facing anyone, of moving on as if nothing had happened, felt impossible.

Your husband, Aegon, and your mother, Alicent, grew increasingly concerned. Aegon would visit your chambers often, trying to coax you to eat or speak with him, but you rarely responded. Alicent, ever the pillar of composure, would sit with you in silence, her worry evident in the way she lingered longer than usual.

Most days, you spent hours on the balcony of your room, gazing up at the endless sky. The soft breeze would tousle your hair as you looked at the clouds and the stars, imagining your sweet Jaehaerys among them.

Sometimes, you would speak softly, your voice carrying into the air as if you were speaking to him.

“Do you see me, my love?” you would whisper, your eyes glistening with tears. “Do you hear me when I call for you? Are you happy there? I hope it’s warm, and you’re not alone.”

Your words hung in the air, unanswered, but you continued nonetheless. It was the only comfort you could find—the idea that somehow, your son could hear you, that he was still close in some way.

The loneliness in your chambers was deafening, but in those quiet conversations with the sky, you felt the faintest echo of peace, however fleeting it might have been.

You kept your gaze fixed on the horizon, your eyes unseeing as you stared into the distance. The soft knock on your chamber door barely registered, and even when Aegon’s familiar voice called your name, you didn’t turn.

“Please,” he said gently, his voice tinged with worry and sorrow. “Let me in.”

But you remained silent, your hands gripping the edge of the balcony railing as if it were the only thing keeping you from collapsing.

Aegon opened the door, his footsteps hesitant as he approached. “You’ve been here for days,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent. “Jaehaera and Maelor… they miss you. They need you.”

At the mention of their names, your grip tightened, your knuckles turning white. A sob tried to claw its way out of your throat, but you swallowed it down. You couldn’t face them—not yet.

You closed your eyes, and the memory hit you like a wave, dragging you back to that horrible moment. The screams, the chaos, the sight of Jaehaerys’ lifeless body. And then, Jaehaera’s cries—the way she clung to you, trembling, begging you to make it stop. You could still feel her small hands clutching at your dress, her sobs echoing in your mind.

“I can’t,” you whispered, your voice breaking as tears slid down your cheeks. “I can’t see them. Not after… not after what happened. I hear her crying, Aegon. I can still hear her crying.”

Aegon knelt beside you, his hand resting gently on your arm. “You’re not the only one hurting,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “They lost him too. Jaehaera… she doesn’t understand why you’re not there. She thinks she’s lost you as well.”

His words pierced through your numbness, and for a moment, you faltered. But the weight of your grief was too much. You shook your head, pulling away from his touch.

“I’m not ready,” you said, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

Aegon’s shoulders sagged, but he didn’t press you further. Instead, he stayed by your side, silent, watching the sky with you as if hoping that his presence alone could anchor you to the world you were trying so hard to leave behind.

Aegon stepped closer, his movements slow and deliberate, as if afraid any sudden action might shatter you further. He crouched by your chair, his violet eyes searching your face for any sign of life beyond the grief.

“Come here,” he murmured gently, extending his hand toward you. “Please, just sit with me.”

For a moment, you didn’t move, your gaze still fixed on the horizon. But his voice, soft and steady, pulled you back to the present. Slowly, as if weighed down by the enormity of your sorrow, you reached for his hand and let him guide you to his lap.

You sank into him, resting your head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat grounding you in a way nothing else could. His arms encircled you, holding you securely, as though he could shield you from the pain that threatened to consume you.

Aegon pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he spoke. “You need to eat,” he whispered, his tone both gentle and firm.

You shook your head, your voice hoarse from disuse. “I can’t, Aegon. I just… I can’t.”

His arms tightened around you, his determination unwavering. “You have to,” he insisted softly. “For Jaehaera. For Maelor. For me. We can’t lose you too.”

The raw emotion in his voice made your chest ache. You wanted to refuse again, to retreat further into your grief, but the desperation in his plea broke through the walls you had built around yourself.

After a long silence, you finally murmured, “Alright.”

Aegon exhaled, his relief palpable. “Thank you,” he said, kissing your temple. “We’ll take it one step at a time. Together.”

For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth through the numbness, a faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, with Aegon by your side, you could begin to heal.

Aegon called for one of your handmaidens, instructing her to bring a tray of food to your chambers. He remained by your side, his hand never leaving yours, as if afraid you might retreat into yourself again. When the food arrived, he dismissed the servant with a quiet nod and set the tray on the small table beside you.

Without a word, he carefully scooped a spoonful of warm soup and brought it to your lips. “Eat,” he said softly, his tone a mix of patience and quiet determination.

You hesitated, your grief still clawing at your insides, but the steady look in his eyes left little room for argument. Reluctantly, you parted your lips, letting him feed you. He continued, one spoonful at a time, murmuring soothing words between each bite.

“You’re doing well,” he said gently, his hand brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Just a little more.”

When you finished, he set the tray aside and kissed your temple. “That’s my girl,” he whispered, his voice filled with pride and affection.

Moments later, a soft knock sounded at the door, and before Aegon could respond, it opened to reveal your mother, Alicent. She stepped in, her dark green gown brushing the floor as she carried Jaehaera and you look Maelor by the hand of one her handmaiden.

The sound of their voices reached you immediately—Jaehaera’s sweet, high-pitched chatter and Maelor’s quiet but firm tone.

Your chest tightened as they entered the room. You froze for a moment, unsure if you could face them, but when Jaehaera’s eyes found yours, her expression lit up. “Mama!” she cried, wriggling free from Alicent’s arms and running toward you.

Maelor followed more slowly, his small face serious, but his eyes were full of hope as he approached. “Mama,” he said softly, his voice trembling slightly.

Their presence broke something inside you—not in the way that left you hollow, but in a way that reminded you of what you still had. Tears filled your eyes as Jaehaera climbed into your lap, her tiny arms wrapping around your neck. Maelor stood at your side, his hand reaching for yours.

“Mama, please don’t be sad anymore,” Jaehaera whispered, her voice trembling. “We need you.”

Aegon placed a hand on your shoulder, his steady presence grounding you as you pulled your children close. For the first time in days, you felt the faint stirrings of purpose returning. You kissed Jaehaera’s hair and held Maelor’s hand tightly, realizing that no matter how broken you felt, you couldn’t give up.

Your children still needed you, and you would find a way to be there for them—even if it meant taking it one painful step at a time.

You pulled Jaehaera and Maelor into your arms, holding them tightly as if they might slip away like a fragile dream. Their small bodies pressed against you, their warmth breaking through the icy wall of your grief. Tears began to fall, soft at first, then in heavy streams as the overwhelming weight of your sorrow poured out.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Jaehaera buried her face in your shoulder, her tiny hands gripping your dress, while Maelor leaned against you, his small arms clutching your waist. They didn’t say anything, but their presence, their love, was enough to make the ache in your heart a little more bearable.

Aegon knelt beside you, his arms encircling all three of you. His touch was steady, strong, and reassuring, a silent promise that you were not alone in this. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and whispered, “We’ll get through this. Together.”

You looked up through your tears, meeting Aegon’s gaze. His eyes were filled with the same pain as yours, but also determination—a fierce love that refused to let this tragedy break your family completely.

From the corner of the room, Alicent stood quietly, her own tears falling as she watched the scene before her. Her hand rested over her chest, and for a moment, the grief of losing her grandson seemed to mingle with the pride of seeing her daughter and son united in their pain.

“You’re strong,” Alicent said softly, her voice trembling as she stepped closer. “All of you. And together, you’ll endure this.”

As the four of you held each other, the room was filled with a bittersweet silence—a fragile moment of unity amidst the storm of sorrow. For the first time, you felt the faintest glimmer of hope that, despite the pain, your family would find a way to heal.

That evening, as the soft glow of candlelight filled your chamber, you, Aegon, Jaehaera, and Maelor remained together. The children nestled against you, their small, warm bodies a reminder of what you still had amidst your grief. Jaehaera clung to your arm, her tiny hand gripping yours as if afraid to let go, while Maelor sat quietly at your other side, leaning into you.

Aegon sat close, his arm draped protectively around all of you, his presence steady and grounding. His fingers gently stroked your back, a silent reassurance that he was there, that you were not alone in this.

As the evening deepened, you looked at your children, their eyelids growing heavy with sleep. Fear gripped your chest, the thought of letting them out of your sight unbearable. The memory of losing Jaehaerys haunted you, and the terror of something similar happening again overwhelmed you.

“I want them to stay here tonight,” you whispered, your voice trembling but firm. You looked at Aegon, your eyes pleading. “I can’t… I can’t let them go. I can’t lose them too.”

Aegon nodded without hesitation, his hand reaching for yours. “Of course,” he said softly. “They’ll stay with us. We’ll keep them safe.”

Jaehaera’s sleepy voice broke through the quiet. “Mama, don’t cry anymore,” she murmured, snuggling closer to you. “We’re here.”

Tears welled in your eyes again, but this time, they were mixed with a faint sense of comfort. You kissed her forehead and pulled Maelor closer, feeling his small arms wrap around your waist.

That night, the four of you lay together in your bed, the children tucked safely between you and Aegon. You stayed awake for a long time, your arms around your children, listening to their soft breaths as they slept. Aegon’s hand found yours under the blankets, his grip firm and steady.

“We won’t let anything happen to them,” he whispered in the dark, his voice full of quiet determination.

You nodded, your heart heavy but resolute. As sleep finally claimed you, the fear remained, but so did the love—the love that would drive you to protect what you still had, no matter the cost.

The morning light streamed through the windows of your chamber as you sat at your vanity, finally preparing yourself to step out after days of solitude. Jaehaera perched on your lap, her soft giggles filling the room as you gently combed and styled her hair. The sound was a balm to your weary heart, a small reminder of the joy that still lingered in your life.

The handmaid beside you worked quietly, weaving intricate braids into your own hair, but your focus remained on your daughter. She twisted her head to look at you, her tiny hands reaching to touch the comb in your hand.

“Are we going somewhere today, Mama?” Jaehaera asked, her voice full of curiosity.

You smiled, brushing her hair gently. “We are, my love. It’s time we all spend some time outside these walls.”

Your gaze shifted to Maelor, who was seated on the plush carpet nearby. He was engrossed in his wooden toys, his little fingers carefully arranging them into a line. Every so often, he would glance up at you and his sister, a small smile lighting up his face when he caught your eye.

“Maelor,” you called softly, and he looked up, his big, curious eyes meeting yours. “Are you ready to go out today, darling?”

He nodded eagerly, standing up and clutching one of his toys in his hand. “Will Papa come too?”

You felt a soft warmth spread in your chest at his question. “Yes, Papa will be with us,” you reassured him.

As you finished the last braid in Jaehaera’s hair, you leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “There,” you said, smoothing the strands. “You look as beautiful as ever.”

Jaehaera giggled, turning to wrap her arms around your neck. “Thank you, Mama.”

For the first time in days, a genuine smile graced your face as you held her close. It wasn’t a complete healing of the pain, but it was a start—a small step toward reclaiming the strength you needed to protect and cherish your family.

The halls of the Red Keep felt stifling as you walked through them, the murmurs and whispers of the courtiers trailing in your wake. You could feel their eyes on you, their pity, their curiosity, their judgments, but you refused to acknowledge them. Your heart and mind were set on one thing—spending time with your children.

When you finally stepped into the garden, the air felt lighter, the soft scent of blooming flowers offering a brief reprieve from the weight of the castle. Jaehaera let out a joyful laugh and dashed ahead, her small feet carrying her toward the vibrant blooms. She twirled and danced in the sunlight, her laughter ringing like a melody that eased your aching heart.

A soft smile touched your lips as you watched her. She reminded you so much of Jaehaerys, her twin, with that same carefree spirit you so dearly missed.

You glanced down at Maelor, who stood quietly by your side, his little hand holding the edge of your dress. His bright eyes looked up at you with a seriousness that seemed far beyond his years.

“Maelor,” you said gently, kneeling to his level. “Why don’t you go and play with your sister? She’d love to have you join her.”

But Maelor shook his head, his small brow furrowing in determination. “No, Mama,” he said firmly. “I want to stay with you. I’ll protect you.”

His words struck a chord deep within you, a mix of sorrow and pride swelling in your chest. You reached out to cup his cheek, your fingers brushing his soft skin.

“You’re so brave, my sweet boy,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “But you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be okay.”

He shook his head again, his lips pressing into a pout. “I’ll stay. Just in case.”

You pulled him into a tender embrace, his small arms wrapping around your neck. As you held him, you glanced back at Jaehaera, who was chasing butterflies through the flowers. Despite the heaviness in your heart, the sight of your children here, alive and smiling, brought a flicker of solace.

For now, you let yourself live in this moment, surrounded by their love and innocence, determined to protect what remained of your family.

You settled beneath the shade of a large tree, the soft grass beneath you providing a small comfort. Maelor climbed onto your lap and rested his head against your thigh, his small body relaxing as your hand gently stroked his fine, golden hair. He sighed contentedly, clutching his wooden toy in one hand, as if even in this peaceful moment, he needed to be prepared to protect you.

Your gaze shifted to Jaehaera, who was a little further ahead, crouched among the flower beds. She hummed softly to herself, her small hands delicately picking flowers one by one. She held them up to the sunlight, inspecting their colors before adding them to the small bouquet she was gathering.

“She looks happy,” Maelor murmured, his voice soft and a little sleepy.

You nodded, your hand continuing to brush through his hair. “She does. And that’s all I want—for both of you to be happy.”

He tilted his head slightly to look up at you, his big, earnest eyes meeting yours. “Are you happy, Mama?”

The question struck you, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to answer. You smiled faintly, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I am happy when I’m with you and your sister,” you replied honestly, though the weight of your grief still lingered in your heart.

Maelor seemed satisfied with your answer and closed his eyes, his breathing growing slower as he relaxed further into your lap. You looked back at Jaehaera, who now had a small bundle of flowers clutched to her chest. She turned to you, her face lighting up with a bright smile.

“Mama!” she called, running toward you with her bouquet. “Look what I made!”

You smiled warmly, holding your arms open as she reached you. “They’re beautiful, sweetheart,” you said, pulling her close as she showed you the flowers. “Just like you.”

In that moment, beneath the tree with your children close, the world seemed a little less heavy. Despite the pain that lingered in your soul, these small moments of peace and love gave you the strength to keep going.

Not long after, your gaze drifted to the nearby corridor, where you caught sight of Aegon walking briskly with several members of his council trailing behind him. His expression was tense, his brows furrowed in frustration as he gestured sharply, dismissing them with a curt wave of his hand. The councilors exchanged uneasy glances before bowing slightly and dispersing, leaving him alone.

Your brow furrowed as you watched him approach. Despite the lingering tension in his demeanor, his face softened when his eyes met yours. By the time he reached you, a small, warm smile had replaced the scowl. Without hesitation, he lowered himself to sit beside you under the shade of the tree.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked, his voice gentle, though his eyes briefly flicked to Maelor resting on your lap and Jaehaera now leaning against you, clutching her bouquet of flowers.

You shook your head, a faint smile gracing your lips. “No. I’m just spending time with them.”

He nodded, leaning back against the tree trunk with a sigh. For a moment, he said nothing, simply watching Jaehaera as she rearranged her flowers and Maelor as he clung to your side, half-asleep.

“You look more at peace here,” Aegon finally said, his tone quieter, as though he didn’t want to disturb the serene moment. “I’ve missed seeing you like this.

You turned to him, studying his face. Though he smiled, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the weight of his duties as king and the shared grief you both carried.

“And you look as if you’ve been arguing all day,” you remarked softly, your voice laced with concern.

Aegon chuckled dryly, running a hand through his hair. “It’s nothing worth troubling you over,” he replied. Then, as if to change the subject, he reached out to gently take your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “I came here because I wanted to be with you. With all of you.”

Jaehaera looked up from her flowers, her face lighting up when she noticed her father. “Papa!” she exclaimed, clambering over to sit on his lap.

Aegon grinned, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head. “What have you been up to, my little flower?”

She giggled, holding up her bouquet proudly. “I made these for Mama. Do you like them?”

“They’re perfect,” he said, his smile widening as he looked at her creation. Then, glancing at you, he added softly, “Just like this moment.”

For the first time in days, you felt a flicker of warmth in your chest, surrounded by the love of your family—a brief reprieve from the storm that still loomed over your hearts.

After asking the servants to take Maelor and Jaehaera back to their chambers for rest, the garden grew quiet. It was just you and Aegon now, the gentle rustle of leaves and distant birdsong filling the space between you.

You leaned against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his steady presence. His hand found yours, his fingers lacing through yours in a reassuring grip.

For a while, neither of you spoke, simply enjoying the peace of the moment. Then, breaking the silence, you said softly, “Maelor wanted to protect me today.”

Aegon tilted his head, glancing down at you. “Protect you?” he echoed, curiosity laced in his tone.

You nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “That’s why he brought his little wooden sword to the garden. He told me he wanted to stay by my side and protect me.”

Aegon let out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and genuine. “He’s a brave boy,” he said, a hint of pride in his voice. “Though I’m not sure how much protection that wooden sword could offer.”

You smiled at his words, your gaze softening. “It’s not about the sword,” you murmured. “It’s about his heart. He’s so young, but he already feels like he has to protect his family.”

Aegon’s expression turned thoughtful, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he held your hand. “He’s too much like me,” he said quietly, a mix of pride and regret in his tone. “Wanting to take on the weight of things he shouldn’t have to.

You looked up at him, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his eyes. “He’s strong,” you said gently. “Like his father.”

Aegon’s lips curved into a faint smile, though his gaze remained distant. “I just want him to have a better life than I did. Than we did.”

You nodded, resting your head against his shoulder again. “We’ll make sure of it,” you whispered. “For him. For Jaehaera. And for Jaehaerys.”

The mention of your eldest son’s name hung in the air, bittersweet and heavy. Aegon tightened his hold on your hand, his silent way of telling you he shared your determination. Together, even in your grief, you would find the strength to protect what remained of your family.

You knew deep in your heart that Aegon had been trying his hardest to be the father your children deserved. He had made it his purpose to ensure they never experienced the same emptiness you both had endured—a father in name but absent in every other sense.

As you leaned against him, you thought of the moments he shared with Jaehaera and Maelor, his efforts to make them laugh, to protect them, to show them they were loved. Despite the burdens he carried as king, he always made time for them. It wasn’t always perfect, but it was sincere.

“I see how hard you try,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon glanced down at you, his brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

“You,” you said, meeting his gaze, “with Jaehaera and Maelor even with Jaehaerys. You’re always there for them. You’re doing everything you can to make sure they never feel what we felt growing up.”

Aegon’s expression softened, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his face. “They deserve better than we had,” he said quietly. “A father who’s there for them. Who doesn’t treat them like pawns on a board or ignore them altogether.”

“And they have that,” you reassured him, your fingers tightening around his hand. “They have you. You’re a better father than you think.”

He let out a shaky sigh, his free hand brushing through his hair. “Sometimes I wonder if it’s enough,” he admitted. “If I can ever truly protect them—from the world, from this throne, from everything that could hurt them.”

“You’re already doing it,” you said, your voice steady. “They know they’re loved. That’s something we never had. That’s the difference.”

Aegon looked at you for a long moment, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. Then he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled faintly, resting your head back against his shoulder. In the quiet of the garden, with the sun beginning to set, you both sat in shared understanding. Aegon wasn’t just a king, and you weren’t just his queen. Together, you were parents fighting to give your children the love and security you had once longed for.

You and Aegon walked side by side through the dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, your hand resting lightly on his arm. Tonight was meant to be a rare moment of peace—a family dinner in your mother’s private solsr. She had insisted, saying it was time for all of you to come together, to remind yourselves that despite everything, you were still a family.

The thought of seeing your siblings again after so long filled you with mixed emotions. You had missed them deeply, especially your sister, but you wondered how much had changed during your time in isolation.

As you approached the doors, they swung open to reveal your family already seated. Alicent rose first, her dark green gown catching the glow of the candlelight. “You’re here,” she said warmly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “We were beginning to think we’d need to send someone after you.”

Your sister Helaena looked up from her seat, her gentle eyes lighting up when she saw you. “Sister,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and relief.

Aemond, standing by the hearth with his hands clasped behind his back, gave you a single nod of acknowledgment. Though his expression was composed, there was a flicker of something softer in his gaze.

“I apologize for keeping you waiting,” you said, your voice polite but tinged with emotion. “It’s been… a long day.”

Alicent stepped closer, her hand brushing your arm briefly. “There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said. “We’re just glad you’re here.”

Aegon, ever one to diffuse tension in his own way, added with a faint smirk, “Besides, it gave them time to argue over the wine.”

A soft chuckle escaped Helaena, and even Aemond’s lips twitched as though fighting a smile.

The tension in your chest eased as you stepped further into the room, Aegon’s hand still resting protectively on your back. Tonight, for just a few hours, you could set aside the pain and chaos of the outside world and simply be a family again.

The dinner went smoothly, filled with light-hearted conversation and laughter that made the weight of the past few days feel a little lighter. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel the comfort of family, the warmth of shared memories and the joy of simply being together.

You glanced around the table, watching your mother, and couldn’t help but ask, “Where is Grandfather? I haven’t seen him.”

Alicent paused, her eyes flicking to Aegon before her lips pressed into a thin line. There was a noticeable tension in the air as she looked away, clearly avoiding the question.

Aegon, noticing the shift in mood, sighed deeply. “Grandfather is no longer the king’s hand,” he said plainly, his voice steady but firm. “Sir Criston has replaced him, and Otto is on his way back to Oldtown.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn’t quite grasp the full weight of the words. Otto had always been a figure of power and influence in your life, for better or worse. The idea that he was no longer in such a position left you with a strange mix of emotions—relief, uncertainty, and a small sense of loss.

“You… you dismissed him?” you asked softly, not sure if you wanted the answer.

Aegon met your gaze, his expression unreadable. “It wasn’t my decision alone,” he replied, his voice low. “But yes, I had no choice. His actions, his way of handling things, it wasn’t what the crown needed.

You could tell there was more to it, but Aegon wasn’t one to offer explanations when he didn’t feel it was necessary. You didn’t press further, instead turning your attention back to your mother, whose silence spoke volumes.

Alicent finally broke her silence, her voice barely above a whisper. “He served his purpose, but times change.”

Aegon nodded, his fingers briefly brushing against yours under the table. You couldn’t deny that a part of you felt unsettled by the absence of Otto, even if his departure meant a shift in power that could be beneficial for the realm. Still, there was no denying the complex history that lingered between you, your mother, and your grandfather.

As you continued eating, you could feel your mother’s gaze on you. When you looked up, you met her eyes, and she offered you a small, bittersweet smile. It was a smile that carried both warmth and a certain sadness, one that made your heart tighten with guilt.

You knew, deep down, that she missed the daughter she once had—the one who had always been composed, graceful, and dutiful. The daughter who had once walked alongside her, strong and ready to uphold the family’s legacy. But things had changed. The weight of the past few days, the grief over losing your son, had fractured the image of who you were, and that hurt her.

The guilt pressed down on you, heavier than it had before. You felt as if you had somehow failed her by becoming someone she no longer recognized—someone lost in sorrow and torn between obligations. You had let her down, even though you had tried to keep everything together for the sake of your family.

For a moment, your mother’s eyes softened, and there was a quiet understanding between the two of you. But it didn’t change the fact that you felt the distance growing between you, even in this moment of togetherness.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost too softly for anyone else to hear, but Alicent’s gaze never left you.

She blinked, her smile deepening as she reached out to gently rest her hand on top of yours. “You have nothing to apologize for,” she said, her voice warm but laced with a deep, unspoken sorrow. “I know this pain, and I know you’ll find your way through it in your own time.”

Her words, though comforting, only made the guilt heavier. You knew that she understood the grief, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she wished for the daughter she once had back—the one who had been able to stand tall beside her, never showing the cracks that now seemed so visible to everyone.

As you resumed eating, you glanced at Aegon, who quietly observed the moment between you and your mother, his hand subtly brushing against yours. It was a small gesture, but it reminded you that he was there, supporting you in ways you could never truly put into words.

After the dinner, as the conversation began to settle, you felt the need to stay a little longer with your mother, away from the usual responsibilities and the weight of the kingdom. You turned to Aegon, offering him a soft smile.

“Would you mind going back to our room with the children? I… I want to stay a little longer with Mother,” you said, your voice gentle but full of meaning. You hoped he would understand your need for this moment of solitude with Alicent.

Aegon looked at you for a moment, his expression softening. He nodded, a small smile appearing on his lips. “Of course,” he replied, though there was a trace of concern in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss your forehead before standing up. “Take your time, my love. We’ll be waiting for you.”

With that, Aegon made his way out of the room, leaving you and Alicent alone.

Your mother smiled warmly at you, her eyes filled with understanding. “I’m glad you want to stay,” she said softly. “It’s been too long since we had time together like this.”

You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and sadness. It was comforting to be with her, but it also reminded you of the distance that had formed between the two of you in recent times. Sitting down beside her, you let out a quiet sigh, trying to collect your thoughts before speaking.

Alicent gently placed her hand over yours, her touch both reassuring and tender. “You’ve been through so much,” she said quietly, her voice carrying the weight of a mother’s concern. “But you’re not alone in this. You never have been.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you squeezed her hand. The comfort of her presence, the bond you shared, made the pain a little easier to bear. In this moment, with her by your side, you didn’t feel quite as lost.

For the first time in days, you felt a sense of peace, knowing that despite everything, you still had your family.

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close, and for a moment, everything felt still. Her embrace, the one that always made you feel safe and comforted, surrounded you like a warm, familiar blanket. You let out a shaky breath, and before you knew it, tears began to fall. Your chest felt tight, the weight of everything pressing down on you.

“I… I was happier before I became queen,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the vulnerability you hadn’t allowed yourself to show in so long.

Alicent’s hands gently stroked your hair, her touch soothing as she held you tightly. She didn’t need to say anything right away. The quiet understanding between the two of you was enough. She knew the burden you carried—she had carried it herself, in her own way, for so many years.

“I understand,” she said softly, her voice calm and steady. “The crown is heavy, my dear, and it changes everything. But you are still you. And I’m here, no matter what.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, letting the tears flow freely, the weight of everything that had happened over the past few months breaking through the walls you had built.

“I wanted to be just… me again,” you admitted, your words barely audible. “I wanted to be the mother I was before… when I didn’t have to think about the kingdom all the time. When I could just be there for my children, without all the duties and expectations. I wanted to be someone’s daughter, not a queen. I wanted to be…”

“Happy?” she finished your sentence, her voice gentle but knowing.

You nodded, your face still pressed against her shoulder. “Yes. Happy. Carefree. I didn’t know how much I had lost until… until it was too late.”

She held you even tighter, as if trying to absorb your pain, to carry some of it for you. “I know. I know how hard it can be. But remember, no matter where you are, or who you become, you are always my daughter. You always have me by your side.”

In her arms, you allowed yourself to feel the grief, the pain, and the longing for a simpler time. But you also felt the quiet comfort of her presence, the reassurance that, despite everything, you still had a place where you were loved, where you didn’t have to carry the weight of the world alone.

And for that moment, in the quiet of her embrace, you felt just a little bit lighter.

She gently cupped your face with both hands, her touch tender and warm as she lifted your tear-streaked face to meet hers. Her eyes, full of compassion and regret, gazed deeply into yours as she pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“You are my strong daughter,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “You have always been strong, even when you didn’t feel like it. And I see that strength in you, even now, even after everything you’ve been through.”

You swallowed, your chest tightening as you listened to her words. It felt both comforting and heartbreaking to hear her speak so kindly to you, especially when you had longed for her support in ways you hadn’t fully realized before.

“I’m sorry,” she continued, her voice quieter now, filled with an unmistakable sorrow. “I’m sorry I couldn’t always be the mother you needed, that I couldn’t always be there for you. I know I’ve made mistakes… I know I’ve been distant at times, and I regret that more than anything.”

Tears welled up again, but this time, they weren’t only of pain. There was a sense of release, of understanding. Alicent wasn’t perfect, but she was here now, offering her love and apology, and that meant more than you had realized.

“You’ve been a mother in your own way,” you whispered, your voice breaking but sincere. “I know you tried, and I’ve always known you loved me. Even when things weren’t easy, I never doubted that.”

Alicent smiled faintly through her own tears, brushing her thumbs along your cheeks, wiping away your tears with a tenderness that felt like a long-awaited balm to your soul.

“You are my everything,” she said softly, her eyes filled with a deep, unconditional love. “And I will spend the rest of my life making up for those moments I wasn’t there. You’ll never have to carry this alone again. I’m here, always.”

You let her words sink in, the weight of them finally lifting the sorrow that had gripped you for so long. In that moment, you realized that even if things could never return to how they were before, you weren’t alone. And that, perhaps, was the start of healing.

After your heartfelt conversation with your mother, you walked slowly back to your room. The weight of the emotions you had shared with her still lingered, but there was a sense of peace in knowing that, for the first time in a long while, you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable and open.

When you reached your room, the sight that greeted you warmed your heart. Aegon was lying on the bed, his arm wrapped protectively around both Jaehaera and Maelor. They had all fallen asleep, tangled in the softness of the blankets, their small bodies curled up together. Aegon’s chest rose and fell gently as he slept, his face relaxed in a rare moment of peace.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Despite everything—despite the pain, the loss, and the uncertainty—here they were, your family, still together. The children had found solace in their father’s embrace, and Aegon had found solace in being there for them, for you. It was a bittersweet comfort, but it was real. It was yours.

You tiptoed over to the bed, careful not to disturb them, and gently brushed a lock of hair away from Maelor’s face. You gazed at both your children, your heart swelling with love for them. They were so young, so full of life, and you would do anything to protect them from the world that had already taken so much from you.

Sitting quietly at the edge of the bed, you took a moment to simply watch them, feeling the overwhelming sense of gratitude and love fill your chest. There were still many challenges ahead, but in this moment, you allowed yourself to just be. To be a mother, to be their mother. And that was enough.

With a soft sigh, you leaned over and kissed each of them gently on their foreheads, taking one last look at Aegon before you settled beside him.

As you lay down, your head resting on the pillow next to him, you finally allowed yourself to close your eyes. You weren’t sure what tomorrow would bring, but for tonight, you were surrounded by love, by family, and that was all that truly mattered.

The next morning, life began to return to its rhythm, though it felt different now, marked by a sense of fragility and the lingering ache of loss. Jaehaera and Maelor resumed their lessons, the sounds of their tutors filling the halls as they continued their education, seemingly oblivious to the weight of the world outside. Aegon, too, returned to his duties, attending council meetings and engaging in matters of state, his focus unwavering despite the quiet storm of grief that lingered beneath his composed exterior.

As for you, you found yourself once again immersed in the responsibilities that came with being the queen. After a period of isolation, you knew that you needed to find your footing again, not just for yourself, but for your children and your kingdom.

You visited your mother, Alicent, and together, you focused on the kingdom’s affairs, the two of you working side by side as you once had in the past. It felt grounding, familiar—though the shadows of grief were still present, they seemed a little less consuming in these moments of shared purpose. Alicent, with her quiet strength, guided you as you worked through the challenges of governance, just as she had always done, but now with a deeper sense of understanding.

At times, you would find yourself lost in thought, thinking of Jaehaerys and the pain that would always follow you. But you also found solace in your family, in the small, tender moments you shared with Aegon and the children. Slowly, day by day, you began to rebuild, piece by piece.

Though you didn’t have all the answers, you knew that as long as you had your family—your children, your husband, and even your mother—you could move forward, even if it was just one step at a time. You carried their love with you, even in the darkest of days, and that gave you the strength to keep going.

As you sat with your mother, Alicent, and your sister, the conversation flowing between the three of you, you suddenly felt a wave of dizziness wash over you. The room seemed to spin, and your stomach twisted in discomfort. You tried to push it aside, focusing on their words, but the nausea only grew stronger, threatening to overtake you.

You clenched your fists, trying to control your breathing, willing the sensation to pass. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the discomfort intensified. Your body betrayed you, and before you could stop it, you turned away from them, covering your mouth as you rushed to the side.

The nausea hit full force, and you vomited into the nearby chamber pot, your body trembling with the force of it. When the wave of sickness finally passed, you felt weak, your head spinning.

Alicent and Haelena, startled by the sudden turn, quickly rushed to your side, concern etched on their faces. Alicent gently placed a hand on your back, her voice filled with worry.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her tone soft but insistent. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard.”

You felt a mix of embarrassment and exhaustion as you tried to regain your composure, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m fine,” you said, though your voice was strained. “It’s nothing… just a momentary weakness.”

But deep down, you could feel that it was more than that. Something wasn’t right, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling that something was changing within you.

Alicent’s eyes softened with concern as she placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “You need rest,” she insisted, her voice filled with maternal care. “You’ve been through so much lately, and now this… Please, let the Maester check on you. I’ll send him right away.”

You could feel your heart tighten at the thought of Aegon finding out, knowing how deeply he would worry. The stress of everything already weighed so heavily on him, and the last thing you wanted was to add to his burdens.

“I don’t want him to know,” you murmured, your voice shaky as you met her gaze. “Please, don’t tell Aegon. He’s already carrying so much… I don’t want him to lose focus.”

Alicent studied you for a long moment, her brow furrowing in concern. She could see the fear and exhaustion in your eyes, but she understood your reasoning. With a soft sigh, she nodded. “I won’t tell him,” she promised. “But you must take care of yourself. For him, for your children… and for you.”

You nodded gratefully, though doubt lingered in your heart. “I’ll rest,” you whispered, feeling a small weight lift off your chest at her understanding.

As you made your way back to your room, your mother sent for the Maester, who would check on you in secret. You couldn’t shake the unease that gnawed at you, but for now, you needed to rest. You closed your eyes, hoping that when you woke, the sense of sickness would be gone—and that you wouldn’t have to face the truth of what might be happening.

You lay back on the bed, trying to steady your breath as the Maester examined you carefully. His questions about your last cycle slowly sunk in, and with the realization, a cold chill ran down your spine. Everything had been so chaotic lately, you hadn’t even considered the possibility. The Maester looked up at you with a reassuring smile, sensing your growing anxiety.

“Your Grace,” he said softly, “You are with child.”

The words hit you like a storm, a mixture of disbelief and fear flooding through you. A child, in the middle of all the loss, pain, and stress… it seemed like a fragile hope in a world so uncertain.

Your heart skipped a beat as you sat up slightly, your hands trembling. “Is the baby alright?” you asked, the worry thick in your voice. “Given everything that’s happened… the stress, my lack of food…” You felt overwhelmed by the thought of how this had all come to be.

The Maester placed a gentle hand on your arm, his voice calm and steady. “It is understandable to be concerned, Your Grace. Stress and lack of nourishment can affect your health, but I find no immediate cause for alarm. The baby seems healthy so far. However, it is crucial that you rest and allow yourself time to recover. Eat when you can, and take care of yourself.”

You nodded, though doubt lingered in your chest. The fear of losing another child, of facing another loss, was almost too much to bear. “Thank you, Maester,” you murmured, your voice small.

The Maester gave you a kind smile. “Your Grace, you must take care of yourself. Your health and the health of the child are of utmost importance now. I will keep an eye on you.”

As he left the room, you were left with your thoughts, still in shock but also filled with a new, growing sense of responsibility. Despite the overwhelming feelings, one thought kept surfacing—this new life, this child, was a part of you and Aegon, and you had to protect it with everything you had.

As you sat there, your hand gently resting on your still-flat stomach, a whirlwind of emotions swept through you. There was a quiet joy that bloomed within, a spark of hope, but it was tinged with a deep sadness and worry. You had lost so much already—your son, the world you once knew—and now, with this unexpected news, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of vulnerability. Could you protect this child? Could you bear another loss?

You closed your eyes, taking in a shaky breath, trying to reconcile the conflicting emotions within you. The joy of new life, the fear of what might happen, the aching sadness of everything that had been lost—it all seemed to press in on you at once. You thought of Aegon, of Maelor, and Jaehaera. They needed you, and now, this new child needed you too.

“I will protect you,” you whispered to yourself, speaking softly to the life growing inside you, even though it felt too early to even fully believe it. “I will do whatever it takes.”

But even as you said it, the weight of your responsibilities, the pain of your past, and the fear of what the future might hold made it hard to feel anything but uncertain.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps approaching your room, and you quickly wiped away the tears that had started to form. Whatever the future held, you had to face it, for them, for this child, and for the family you still had.

You turned to see Aegon standing in the doorway, his gaze soft yet filled with concern. The way he looked at you, as though he could feel the storm within you, made your heart ache.

He stepped closer, his voice gentle but filled with urgency, “Is everything all right? What’s going on? You look… far away.”

You swallowed hard, trying to steady yourself. The last thing you wanted was to burden him with the weight of everything you were feeling, but his presence, his concern, made it harder to hide your turmoil.

You shook your head slowly, then spoke, your voice trembling slightly, “I… I’m fine, Aegon. It’s just… a lot on my mind.”

Aegon knelt beside you, his hands reaching out to gently hold yours. His eyes searched yours, his worry deepening. “You don’t have to carry everything alone. What is it? You can tell me.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you let out a shaky breath. “I found out… I’m pregnant.” You paused, feeling the weight of the words.

Upon hearing the news, Aegon’s face lit up with an expression of pure joy. He couldn’t contain the smile that spread across his face as he rushed to your side, his hands gently cupping your face. “You’re pregnant?” he whispered, as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “That’s… that’s the best news I’ve ever heard.”

Without wasting a moment, Aegon quickly left the room, eager to share the news with your mother. His excitement was palpable, and you could see the joy in his eyes as he rushed down the corridor.

It wasn’t long before Alicent arrived, her presence immediately calming. She stepped into the room, her eyes filled with love and concern, and before you could say anything, she pulled you into a warm embrace. “Oh, my dear,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m so happy for you.”

You felt the warmth of her hug, her strength and love surrounding you as tears welled up in your eyes. “I’m scared, mother,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “What if I’m not strong enough? What if I can’t do this?”

Alicent pulled back slightly, holding you at arm’s length as she looked into your eyes, her own filled with understanding. “You are stronger than you know. And you will never be alone in this. We will all be here to support you, to guide you. This is a new beginning, a new life, and you have Aegon, and you have me. We will make sure this child knows nothing but love.”

You nodded, feeling the weight in your heart lighten just a little. With Alicent’s embrace, and Aegon’s joy, you began to feel a glimmer of hope for the future. The road ahead would still be difficult, but you knew that with them by your side, you could face anything.

tag list : @danytar @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd (italic means that i can’t tag you)

336 notes · View notes

bbhyeoliskooks · 7 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 | hnk

kai thinks you deserve better... maybe someone like him.

✥ genre: bestfriend!Kai x gn reader, soft fluff and a pinch of angst, 800+ words

✥ warnings: mentions of infidelity

✥ song rec: Boyfriend -- Big Time Rush

Wrapped up in Kai's silky blue bedsheets, you were mourning the loss of your last relationship which just so happened to end the same day. Immediately after being broken up with, you asked Kai if you could stay over to be distracted; there was no way you would stay in your room, haunted by the many gifts and memories that were made. Although it was on such short notice, the boy agreed nonetheless, hoping that his presence could somehow make things better. He picked up some chicken noodle soup, a comfort meal that may not be the cure to heartbreak but could ease your heart and health a little bit.

Shivering, you cuddled up next to Kai and his many plushies. You relished in his natural warmth as though he was a teddy bear. Silently he let you lay against his arm, immediately drawing circles on the top of your head. You hummed, his presence easing the blow of the breakup from earlier. The only thing that could be heard was your breaths over the shuffling of the bedsheets, but Kai didn't mind. He liked when you cuddled, something that had come to a standstill since you started dating your horrible ex of a significant other.

Yes, Kai wasn't afraid to say it, always speaking his mind whenever your old significant other came up. From the moment you two met, he disapproved, buying into your ex's reputation more than getting to know the person themselves. Plus, he didn't appreciate that you couldn't be as close to him since it'd look weird to the outside world and your ex. Time didn't soften Kai's opposition from your significant other and he always hated them for who they seemed to be. So when you came to him, crying that your ex hadn't been faithful for a long while, he wasn't exactly surprised. But did he say that?

He was unable to criticize your choices in people as you curled closer to his chest, enjoying his comfort. He smiled quietly while you sighed, intentionally ignoring the soup that was specifically bought for you. He may have forgotten to get some food in your system but only because you were physically close to him again like one of his plushies. He also didn't care that you could possibly get sick, willing to become ill as well as long as it meant you felt better from a horrible predicament. It seemed as though you belonged right there in his lap, perfectly molded for your resting and whenever you needed him. If anything, Kai was made for you; how could you not realize that?

Your eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, a frown on your face. Probably delirious from the heartbreak and the new cold you were getting (your ex thought it was a good idea to break up with you as soon as possible, even if that meant in the rain), you tugged on the ends of Kai's soft blue hoodie. He looked at you very confused but attentive to whatever you needed. If you wanted him to spin 10 times even if he became dizzy, he would do it. If you wanted him to grab your favorite drink even though it was 30 minutes, he would do it. He waited for whatever you were going to say, gazing at you expectantly.

Your voice faltered as you asked softly, "am I unloveable?"

Kai, now frowning, shook his head. Rage boiled in his blood, flowing through his fingers as he stopped combing your hair. Did your ex make you feel like that? His throat felt parched, too angry that you out of anyone else would be feeling like that. No one should be feeling that, much less you, his best friend that he had come to admire so much.

"Of course not. You deserve so much better, Y/N."

Although you knew that Kai was just trying to cheer you up as your best friend, you couldn't help but feel that it was a lie. Your self-love and confidence was at an all-time low, plummeting to where you assumed it would never recover. You weren't going to pester your best friend for more reassurance though, knowing that he would probably find it annoying- your insecurity and issues that came from a relationship he never approved.

Kai, studying your crestfallen expression, wanted to do whatever to make you feel better. He thought that his words were good at the moment but of course, they were only bandages that covered deep wounds. He looked away, too embarrassed to look you in the eye. His thoughts were rather scandalous, not something that a best friend should think. All the while, he cupped your cheek gently, making you look at him.

You watched him, face heating up as he spoke quietly.

"You deserve better," he paused before rubbing his thumb delicately on your cheek, "maybe... maybe someone like me."

Released: July 6, 2024 (4:28pm CT)

Thoughts: bro I literally need hyuka to comfort me about my cheating ex 😒 I want to be wrapped up in his sheets with him holding me while his plushies watch 😭😭😭 delulu hours open it seems… ALSO LOOK AT HOW FINE HE IS IN THE PICTURES LIKE WTH HYUKA 😞

Tags:

#txt fluff #txt angst #txt reactions #txt scenarios #txt imagines #txt ff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai ff #hueningkai fanfic #txt fanfic

195 notes · View notes

elliespeach · 2 years ago

Text

the air that i breathe | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ "because i can make it quick, or i could make it so much worse." ´ˎ˗

synopsis: a camping trip you and ellie embark on takes a devastating turn. with you in the hands of raiders ellie's sanity is brought to her breaking point and she will stop at nohting to get you back. wordcount: 8.3k + warnings: 18+ ellie n readers headspace is very dark!! depression, panic attacks, horrible desperation, and lots of trauma responses that are vividly described. graphic depictions of violence, kidnapping, reader is confined in a cell by chains, food/water deprivation, hallucinations, torture (reader by raiders, ellie to the raiders) ellie is basically santa barabra ellie but multiply it by thirty n reader is like trapped in the dark so i think that counts as claustrophobia. this fic can b very triggering so pls take the tags seriously!! different povs (ellie n reader) they are seperated for most of this fic, theres some fluff in their dreams but thats truly as soft as it gets author note: pls pls read me!! this story came to me randomly, its not a traditional fic in my eyes but i hope u guys like it nonetheless!! the name comes from the show bridgerton, one of violets lines towards her husband and i was like THAT is true love so here we are :) theres a lot of in game elements to this story on ellie's part so i hope i did that justice :)) i'm a lil nervous to post this im ngl so pls be kind and lmk if yall like it plsssss i beg of u i wanna make this a multi part fic esp w the way it ends so any feedback will be appreciated!! ily guys enjoy

ellie’s pov

– three days after the kidnapping

the first thing ellie hears is the low, familiar voices of joel and tommy. as their mumbled conversation rings through her ears, her head throbs. a groan escapes her lips, bringing her hand up weakly to rub it as if it would help. ellie opened her eyes slowly, the pain intensifying from the sun shining through the windows. her vision came to focus, looking around it was the infirmary in jackson. she was laid down in one of the beds and when her eyes landed on joel and tommy, they looked at her sympathetically.

joel took small steps toward her, barely able to make eye contact. “how ya feelin’ kiddo?” he asked, painfully sitting himself down at the end of her bed. ellie wasn’t able to read him clearly, and then she started thinking. why am i in this bed? her mind raced and it must’ve been obvious to her company because joel spoke again. “it’s gonna be okay.”

she frantically searched through her foggy mind, everything was so blurry and out of order. she thought of you. the only thing that came to the front of her mind with ease. the camping trip, she thought to herself. she saw you in her head, all bundled up in the sleeping bag and wearing ellie’s shirt. her lips began to curl at the ends before she realized you weren’t here by her bedside. she remembers leaving the tent that night, for what reason she doesn’t know, but you stayed behind, cuddled up in the sleeping bag.

thats when– your scream. it echoed in her head, taunting her. the quiet forest that surrounded the two of you amplified your terrified scream and ellie’s face grimaced at the memory. she knows she ran to you, why was i so far away from you? her brain was waking up and with it, horrible images flashed in front of her. the tent that had been cut open, the rusty old pick-up truck, the men that had you in their grasp, the last glance ellie had of you before the bud of a gun was slammed into her head. it all came flooding back in an instant.

ellie looked up at joel, tears brimming over her eyes. she spoke in a low voice, but despite the tears that fought to fall, her tone was flat. “where is she?”

joel was quick to answer, “we’ve been tracking them–”

“how long have i been out?” she boomed, trying to sit up but her brain pounded against her skull, forcing her back down in the bed. joel moved up, sitting closer to her but couldn’t find the words, his heart ached for ellie. he looked to tommy with a solemn expression, and his little brother stepped forward.

“it’s been three days, ellie,” tommy vocalized softly. “we’re doin’ all we can, i promise.”

“obviously it’s not fucking enough!” ellie shouted, pinching the bridge of her nose and shutting her eyes tight. you came to mind when she did, usually she pictures you happily; picking a flower and tucking in her hair, taking a nap on ellie’s couch with your head in her lap, posing while she drew you. you were the spitting image of innocence in her mind. but as her eyes shut now, all she could see was the absolutely heart-wrenching image of your face as you were thrown into the truck.

her eyes opened almost immediately, unable to see it even for a second longer. her cheeks became wet as the tears poured out of her, her breathing became erratic and she clutched her chest. joel was quick to comfort her but it only did so little. “we-we have to fi-find her,” ellie managed to speak through panicked breaths, feeling her chest about to burst.

the pain in her head was nothing compared to this, and it almost felt non-existent in the face of you being gone. being with them. whoever they are, whatever they want with you. they should have taken me. it should have been me. it should have been me. it should hav–

“ellie, breath–” joel cooed next to her, rubbing her back and removing her from her thoughts. “we’ll find her.”

“i’m co-coming with you,” her chest was still heaving and she felt like she’d never breathe right again. not until you were standing next to her.

tommy sighed, barely audible over ellie’s apparent panic-attack. “you’re on bed rest, kid. i’m sorry. but we will bring her back to you.”

his words felt like daggers and she was quick to respond. “if you think for one sec–”

“it’s not up for discussion, ellie.” joel interjected, his voice was soft but stern. and ellie scoffed through the tears, looking at joel harshly.

before ellie could spew a rant to him, tommy spoke, “we think they’re on the border of utah. were going tomorrow at first light and when we come back she will too. okay?”

ellie’s thoughts were a jumbled mess, and as her breathing became somewhat normal she was able to think. play it cool. “o-okay,” let them think i won’t go anywhere. “my head r-really hurts. gonna sleep for now,” she mumbled, pulling the blanket up and over her head. she laid with her back turned to them and she felt the bed move beside her. joel and tommy mumbled another string of words to each other before ellie heard the door creek open.

“rest up, kiddo. she’s gonna be okay.” joel said to her sympathetically and ellie remained quiet under her covers, plotting her escape.

she slept for another few hours. she knew she had to wait until night time anyway, there was no use in staying awake and plaguing her thoughts with what is happening to you. but as she slept her mind played horrible tricks on her, she dreamt of saving you that night. brutally slaying the men who had dared to even think about touching you, their blood stained her dreams but at the end of it you were in her arms.

when she woke up alone, her reality came crashing back down. it forced her to sit up, ignoring her head that was killing her slowly. there was no night time infirmary nurse and she knew now was her only opportunity to sneak away. the clock on the pale blue walls read one in the morning, jackson was asleep. the only people she would need to avoid were night patrols, and the guards around the armory.

she hauled herself out of bed, her feet dragging on the cold floor and she located her bag. her clothes from the camping trip were tucked inside and she quickly changed. ellie tried to picture the men’s faces, and all that came to her were figures whisking you away. she decided it was best to not think about it, but it was a lot easier said than done and she found herself shaking her head frequently to rid the images from her mind.

slipping out of the infirmary was easy, a small house on the corner of a dead end street. the streetlamps had been turned off by now, saving power and ellie easily made her way towards the armory. she approached in a crouch, hiding behind a bush in the shadows. she watched as the guards were laughing, telling stories and all around not paying attention. the armory was a larger building near the stables, the guards were circled around a makeshift booth at the front.

sneaking to the side of the building she tugged open a window and crawled inside. she loaded herself with her usual rifle that she took on patrols. taking it down from the wall she stared at it for too long, remembering the day she taught you how to shoot.

“all you have to do is point, aim and–”

“if you say point, aim and fire one more time.” you laughed at her, your attention shifting between the gun and ellie.

“i’m just trying to help you, pumpkin.”

instead of making her feel soft and warm, the memory made her go cold. she couldn’t place you, your face was a cloudy mess in her mind but your voice rang true. her eyes glossed over, hearing your laugh in her head and all she could think of what she would do to these people once she found them. in a haze she stuffed supplies in her bag, a surplus of ammo for her rifle and pistol and then some. she removed her switchblade from her bag and put it in her back pocket for easy access, throwing a trench knife into the backpack just in case.

she was almost back of out the window she came in when she realized the trip was going to be long, and she had no food in her bag whatsoever. sighing, she looked around. the left over food from the guards littered the small counter to the side of the room. sandwiches and nuts and ellie figured it would have to do and before long she was sneaking to her usual spot in the fence.

the walk to it was familiar, she had done it with you a thousand times. it was a loose panel of wood that to the unknowing eye would be a secured fence, but with a gentle tug, it gave way. ellie and you had discovered it one day, and it quickly became your get-a-way whenever one of you wanted to escape the confines of the walls. there was a small over-look just beyond the wall, about a ten minute walk from jackson. ellie had drawn you there with the landscape behind you, the picture is hanging on the wall in her garage and she cherishes it like it was gold.

she pictured you there, trying to remember how peaceful you were to her. like the calm in the storm that was her life. all she could conjure was that night so she dropped it and viciously bit her cheeks with frustration. ellie came to the broken piece of wood, taking a quick look around before pushing it and then herself through the gap. the forest beyond was still and quiet. peaceful almost. putting the board back in place, she turned and headed for the highway.

readers pov

– day of the kidnapping

the last you saw ellie she was falling to the ground as she came up to your campsite. the man who had been hiding behind the tree knocked her out with a swift blow to the head. you cried out, thrashing in the hands of the man who had lifted you from the ground. “fucking let go of me!” you shouted as your world tumbled around you, you fell into the bed of the truck with a hard smack, pain shot up your spine and you groaned, rolling over.

the man jumped up onto the back of the truck, making it wobble with his weight. you crawled backwards instinctively, your eyes darting from him and your motionless girlfriend on the ground yards away. your stomach turned as he pulled his fist back and there was nothing you could do before he brought it down heavily onto your skull and everything went black.

while unconscious, your mind brought you back to ellie’s room. her stereo playing softly as you sat on her bed, watching her read the same book she always did. her eyes scanned the pages as if she had never seen it before. she was laying on her stomach, legs dangling over the side of the bed as she flipped the pages. it was a book about the constellations in the sky and every so often she would show you a page and say it reminded her of you. “this one–” she showed you, a cheeky smile on her face as she turned the book towards you.

“that just looks like lines, els.” you chuckled at her while you examined the page. you never understood her when she spoke about space, but you liked to hear her ramble. her voice was so comforting to you and it always brought you back down to earth.

“no, no, pumpkin, look–” she pointed with her fingers on the page, outlining the stars. “its cassiopeia on her throne. d’ya see it?” her soft green eyes met yours, a hopeful look in them.

you didn’t see it, you just saw lines on a page but ellie’s enthusiasm poured through her and who were you to deny her of it. “yeah, i see it,” you lied, getting closer to get a better look hoping it will just come to you. “why do you say that?”

“dunno,” she shrugged, looking back to the page. “but it says here she was a queen, so i think that’s why.”

her words always left you feeling like the most special person, and to ellie you were. you playfully hit her with a pillow, causing a mildly loud “ow!” from her.

“you’re so fucking cheesy,” you smiled, hitting her again with the pillow. as you brought it down on her she grabbed it. ellie moved quickly and sat on her knees as she struggled to take the pillow from you. she looked down at you, back against the bed and giggling so sweetly. she was able to snatch the pillow, throwing it to the side and leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“you love it, shut up.” her words bounced off your face and she pulled her face down to be directly in front of yours. her eyes stared into yours and you could see just how much she loved you on full display within her green eyes. she leaned in to kiss you and as her lips brushed against yours, the world around you melted away.

you felt cold and you could swear your eyes were open but you couldn’t see anything. you felt around, the ground beneath you was solid and ragged and as you moved you heard the clanking of chains. moving your hands down your legs you sensed the frigid metal that encased your ankle, following the chain with your hands to a bolt in the wall.

the walls had the same texture as the floor and you began to panic. you recounted the last memory you had, ellie laying on the ground. the man punching you in the face. reaching up to touch your sensitive skin, a sharp pain came from your cheek and you gasped. incoherent curses came stringing out of your mouth that quickly turned to yelling. you shouted for ellie, her name bounced off of the walls around you and with every call unanswered the hope inside you diminished. the darkness was over-bearing and you were forced to picture every horrible thing these people could do to you simply just because they could. your voice, that was still begging for ellie, became hoarse. a lump settled in your throat from wailing and you felt sick to your stomach.

you knew none of this was helpful. the screaming, the wailing, but you couldn’t help it. the emotions poured out of you until there was nothing left, ellie could be dead and you were locked up god knows where. you hadn’t even begun to think of why they had taken you, your head was too jambled to think straight. and after what seemed like hours in the black void of your cell, a dim light flickered on and came peeking beneath a door you didn’t even know was there. it illuminated the room just enough to see that cement encased you behind the metal door.

with a click of a lock the door opened and the sudden light hitting your eyes made you jump, shielding your face with your hands. you heard footsteps approach you slowly but stop a few feet away. a cold hand came up to your forearm and you swung, trying to keep whoever this was away from you at all costs. but their cold hands grasped your arms, forcing you to look upon them. the dim overhead light in the next room outlined the man in front of you, you couldn’t make out a face but he was brutish, and he smelled like a campfire.

“don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” the man growled, the taunting in his voice was sinister.

you used all the energy you could to spit in his face and he recoiled, letting go of your arms to wipe his face and he took a step back. “fuck you!” you snarled, spit leaving your mouth with the anger that boiled inside of you.

he chuckled as he wiped the remaining spit from his face, “we could have killed you, ya know?” the man muttered, taking small strides towards the metal door. his hand reached for the wall, turning on an overhead light in your cell. looking around, it seemed to be a basement. you could see stairs past the door to the cement room and as you peered through the door, the man repositioned himself in front of your face.

you didn’t say anything and his head cocked to the side as he knelt in front of you. “but we didn’t, do you know why?” his tone was antagonizing and as your eyes adjusted you could make out his face, a large scar was centered by his nose as if he had been cut. you shook your head at his question, not wanting to speak. also because your throat stung from the previous screaming.

“well,” he looked to the side, using his hands on his knees to hoist himself back up to his feet and he towered over you. “i would have told you but–” he motioned to his face, still glistening from your spit. “maybe tomorrow.” his words were fast, he turned on his heel and headed for the door.

in a panic you lurched forward, arm out and you tried to stop him. your ankle tugging on the chain as you reached for him.“wait, please don’t!” came rushing out of your mouth but it was too late. the light was switched off and as the door shut behind him, you were enveloped in the darkness yet again.

— four days after the kidnapping

the black void of your cell had become never ending. after the man with the scar left, the only time anyone would open the door was to give you as little food as possible. keeping you weak and unable to fight back, but alive just enough to do whatever they had planned. if you had been told you were here for a week you would have believed it, time moves weird in the dark and you never knew what time of the day it was, if they were swerving you breakfast or dinner– you had no idea.

at first you tried to stand, to pace around and get your body moving. after a while it became too repetitive and you fell to your knees, tired and disoriented. you hadn’t moved an inch since, just laying curled up on the floor with your back to the door. the only thing that kept you occupied besides sleeping was reliving memories, playing them over and over again in your head. they were all of ellie, her freckled face and auburn hair and that stupid constellations book.

she was your every waking thought and even slipped her way into your dreams. ellie was the only thing keeping you from going completely insane in the darkness. you could picture her so clearly, but when you thought about her voice it never sounded right. you were only able to hear it in your dreams, but when you woke it slipped away like water in your hands. traceable, but not recognisable. you made it your mission to remember, a small controllable goal in a situation so far out of your hands and it provided a sense of comfort. as much as it could.

you were tracing her name over the cold ground beneath you, whispering it softly as if it was a crime when you drifted off once again. it had become routine and a sure fire way to make sure she was in your dreams, her voice and all. this time your dreams planted you in the memory of watching her favorite movie together, curled up on the couch with your head in her lap and her hands playing in your hair.

“don’t get attached to her,” ellie said casually above you, pointing to the small tv. you groaned, looking up at her and her innocent eyes met yours.

“you spoil every movie, els.” you say with a fake annoyance in your voice, playfully swatting at the hand pointing to the tv.

“i didn’t say what happens to her!” her hands go up defensively, looking down at you in her lap. her face had been speckled with sun freckles from the previous day, leaving it absolutely covered from her chin to her forehead. even her eyebrow slit had a few small dots in it, and you found it hard to be annoyed with her.

turning your attention back to the movie with an unsure mhm, your eyes left hers and for a moment there was silence. and ellie couldn’t help herself, she mumbled, “exceptshetotallygetschoppedinhalf.”

you sprung up, your head leaving her lap, positioning yourself next to her on your knees. swiftly you propelled her down and straddled her torso. dramatic gasps left her mouth and she placed her hands on your hips, looking you up and down. “you’re gonna pay for that, you know,” you said to her, cupping her face with one hand.

“i’m soooo scared, pumpkin” she teased, and as the words left her mouth it was like someone had pressed the mute button. her lips moved, and she was definitely talking but her voice was gone, like it had blown away in the wind. the nickname you cherished so deeply from her inaudible and as you realized this your eyes snapped open. the darkness was back, and ellie was gone, along with her voice.

you tried to cling on to it, but the harder you tried to remember it, the further it went in your mind. if you weren’t so dehydrated, you’d be crying and thrashing around, desperately hoping for her voice to come back to you. but instead being too weak to do anything, you pulled your legs up to your chest and laid in the silence. you didn’t know how long you had been asleep, not that it mattered anyway, but your stomach was feeling emptier than ever before so it must have been a while.

remnants of your dream flashed in your mind and your hand placed itself on your face as ellie had always done, imagining it was her. imagining her coming to save you, her holding you. every thought that consumed you was her. she can’t be dead. you repeat to yourself like your own little mantra. she isn’t dead.

time shifted again and you heard footsteps coming down the stairs beyond the door. the metal door clicked and opened as it always did, but instead of food being thrown at you in the dark, the lightswitch flicked on. your eyes nearly burst from the pain after being in the dark for so long and you covered them with your hands. “ready to talk like a civilized person?” the raspy voice spoke and you removed your hands from your face, squinting your eyes until they adjusted.

you nodded slightly and the man with the scar sighed, “good,” he crouched in front of you and you locked eyes with him, anger filling you up head to toe but you fought against it. “where’d we leave off, huh?”

“w-why you took me,” your voice was small and you realized you hadn’t actually talked in days besides muttering ellie’s name to yourself.

“right!” he exclaimed loudly, making you jump as it echoed off the walls. “you seemed valuable, at least to that girl,” as he acknowledged ellie, your face lit up and you hung on to his words. “so we figured, you’d be a good bargaining chip for food and whatnot.”

the nonchalantness in his voice made your skin crawl and your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. “and you think giving me back like this will get you what you want?” you asked, your voice slowly returning. the man looked down on you with a smug expression.

“if they want you back alive, yeah. i do. we’re gonna send a party to your town to give them our demands for you,” his finger grazed your leg and you snaked it back. the chains rattled as you did and a chuckle came from him. “we just need to know exactly what you people got.”

worry swirled around inside of you and you knew what ellie would do in this situation, so you remained as strong as you could, picturing her in your mind. “i’m not telling you anything–”

“it’s your choice,” he sighed, reaching into his back pocket. he pulled out a small knife and it was too similar to ellie’s for your liking. “just know you can change your mind at anytime.” with that, his knife pierced your skin and your screams filled the room.

ellie’s pov

— five days after the kidnapping

ellie had been traveling on foot for two days now. her head still ached with the concussion she suffered and her feet felt like they were on fire with every step. everytime she felt like stopping, a foggy image of you would cross her mind and she would keep going. she only stopped when she was practically falling over, hours after the sun had gone down.

by the second day, her legs were giving out on her. she stumbled into the underbrush to the side of the road, falling to her knees and then flat on her stomach. too exhausted to eat and sleep came easy to her. she knew it would only be an hour of sleep but she physically couldn’t go any further tonight. so she embraced sleep, knowing it would only make her nightmares surface yet again.

tonight her nightmare seemed to be a complete recollection of that night. she was in the tent with you and you rambled about a book you had borrowed from dina. ellie was rifling through her backpack, looking for the constellations book. she had promised to show you cassiopeia on her throne in the night sky, but her book wasn’t in her bag. “i fuckin’ packed it,” she said mindlessly, dumping her belongings out onto your sleeping bag.

“it’s okay, we can find it without the book.” you reassured her, a soft smile on your face as you did.

“no, there was– ugh,” she sighed, accepting defeat. you looked at her, a puzzled expression on your face that she couldn’t quite see. “i had something for you, it was in the book.”

“i’m sure whatever it was, i’ll love it when we get back just as much.” you leaned up, planting a delicate kiss on her lips. ellie’s worry washed away and placed a hand to your cheek when you pulled apart.

thats when the silent forest came to life. animals could be heard sprinting between trees, and the birds caulking as they were so rudely woken up by whatever had scared them. ellie’s head turned to the opening in the tent and you grabbed her arm, forcing her to look back to you.

she saw the usual cloudy mess instead of your face, but in her dreams it seemed to be normal. she sat up, rubbing the arm that clutched hers before she spoke. “probably just a runner, i’ll be right back.” she kissed the top of the blur and felt the grip loosen around her arm.

“be quick–” you whispered to her as she left the warm tent into the chill air. ellie looked around the campsite, not seeing anything but the noises of the animals still alarmed her, so she expanded her search.

she had wandered down to the small creek about twenty yards from you, hoping the sound of the rushing water had attracted the infected but there was none in sight and as she turned to make her way back to you, and the night you had planned, your shriek came barreling through the trees.

not hesitating for a second, ellie was running. her fists pumping at her sides like a madman, she didn’t have time to think about what could possibly be tormenting you, but when she bursted into the campsite and her eyes locked on you, thrashing in the grasp of a random man, her heart sank to her stomach. your face was no longer blurred, she could see every detail that made your face so perfect but your terrified expression haunted her and the gun coming down on her head sprung her awake.

the sun hadn’t risen yet and her surroundings were still dark. she pushed herself off the ground, not wanting to go back to sleep until you were next to her. coming from the trees that lined the highway, she kept going. the little rest she got was enough to propel her forward and while she walked her mind wandered. it wasn’t long before the sound of morning birds snapped her out of a haze and as she looked up from her feet she saw a welcome to utah sign. it was still dark, probably the very beginning of the morning and ellie noticed smoke coming from the trees just behind the sign.

not hesitating she moved closer, taking her steps slowly and lowering herself to the ground, she pushed past the trees and saw the makings of a camp. a giant fire roared in the middle of all the people sleeping around it. her eyes landed on the man to the left, furthest from the horses and a picture flashed in her mind. he laid there peacefully, but ellie recognized him as the man who had knocked her out. and suddenly her thoughts halted themselves and her feet moved for her.

knowing she could never take all of them at once, especially as exhausted as she was, ellie decided on a different plan. starting with the woman closest to the horses, she positioned herself right next to her and grabbed the knife she had placed in her pocket. ellie’s hand covered the womans mouth and her eyes opened harshly. without a second thought, she sliced the knife along the neck of the panicked woman.

the fires crackling was enough to mask the sound of her blood gurgling from the wound. the woman grasped at ellie desperately trying to save her own life but her movements soon slowed, her arms falling to her sides. removing her hand, she moved on to the next one. watching as the life drained from him as well as he struggled to alert his friends. ellie had gone glossy eyed, and if she was being honest she wasn’t in full control of her actions. her mind only had one goal, and these people stood in her way. they caused this. they deserve it.

blood spattered onto her face while she glided the switchblade across the neck of the third man, once he had stopped fighting back and his eyes were staring blankly up into the sky ellie locked her own eyes on the final man. the one who had prevented her from saving you, now that it was only him left she stomped over to him. as she approached him, her chest was heaving and blood dripped from her face.

she stood over him for a moment, watching as he slept peacefully. cocking her head to the side, she kicked him harshly in the stomach. immediately he rolled over, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. ellie drove her foot into his now exposed back and he cried out in pain yet again. despite his pain, the man tried to get away. crawling on his hands and knees as quickly as he could, he only made it a few feet when the sound of ellie’s gun cocking made him stop in his tracks.

“turn around,” ellie grunted, her breathing more heavy than before. the man did as he was told, and as he did his eyes widened at the sight of ellie, covered in blood, sweat and dirt. they wandered past her, looking upon his dead friends and his hands raised to the side of his head.

“take it all–”

“you remember me?” her voice was low, hushed even and as the terrified man studied her face his eyebrows raised slightly, and ellie’s lips threatened to curl at the ends. “yeah, you remember me.”

the man remained quiet in his realization and ellie’s gaze directed itself at the paper poking out from his pocket. the fire illuminated the camp just enough to see it was a map and she motioned her gun towards it, “you’re gonna show me exactly where she is.” her voice was flat but firm.

“i can’t do that–” his voice trembled and his words were cut off by ellie moving closer to him, her gun now directly in his face.

“you don’t have a fucking choice!” she shouted, ripping the map from his pocket while her gun remained closely trained on him. she laid it flat on the ground, crouching down to his level and staring him down. he shook his head feverishly, terrified of ellie but even more concerned about her finding their base. while he refused to speak, she had grown tired of waiting and with her available hand took her switchblade and dug it deeply into his thigh and twisted with all her strength.

he wailed, losing balance on his knees and falling to his side. ellie removed the knife, wiping it clean on her jeans before lowering her head to him. “you’d better start fucking talking.”

the gun was still pointed to his face and he looked at her with disdain, “i’m fucking dead anyway why would i tell you anything.” he said breathlessly, trying to cover the hole in his leg with his hands and failing miserably.

“because i can make it quick,” she twirled her switchblade in her fingers, grazing it over his cheeks as he winced back. “or i could make it so much worse.”

“fuck you!” he spat with all his might and ellie dug her knife into his arm, sliding it down while it tore open his flesh. his screams filled the woods around them and in a desperate attempt to save his life, he reached for her gun.

it pointed up and ellie fired at the sudden scramble. the man tackled her to the ground, pinning her down and fighting to take the gun from her hand. in the tussle, her switchblade fell from her grasp and landed a few feet away. in a panic she fought for the gun, kneeing the man in the stomach as hard as she could but he remained firm on top of her. her free hand swung up, knocking him on the head and his grip on the gun loosened. as she yanked it back, it slipped from her own hands and fell to the ground. while he was stunned from her punch, ellie managed to throw him off of her. she rolled around, looking on the ground for her gun but it blended in so well with the dirt and sticks she couldn’t see it.

taking a quick look back to the man, he had picked up a rather large rock and tried smashing it down on her head. ellie moved, nearly missing having her head bashed in and she noticed her blade glistening in the now rising sun. she army crawled as the man grasped at her legs to pull her back. her fingers fiddled with the handle before she was able to firmly wrap her hand around it. as she did, the man dragged her back towards him and while he tried to position himself on top of her, ellie plunged the switchblade deep into his chest. the crunch of it piercing his sternum confirmed it was a deadly hit and she watched as he lost any hope to stay alive.

his mouth hung open in shock, looking down to the puncture wound and his hands went to grasp around it. his legs straddled ellie’s torso, allowing the blood that poured from it to fall directly onto her. the man coughed and instead of spit, blood spewed from his mouth staining his teeth in the process before he fell over beside her. ellie didn’t move, her breathing erratic from the fight.

the man gurgled on his own blood for a moment before it got quiet again, the woods silent as ever except for her heaving breaths. her hands fell to her sides and she gazed up to the sky, the stars still burning brightly above the trees. all of her exhaustion hit her at once like a truck and she fought to keep her eyes from closing. right before she thought sleep would consume her and she would have to relive her worst nightmare all over again, she saw the makings of a constellation. at first, it wasn’t recognizable, just another clump of stars in the galaxy. but when it clicked in her mind, she propped herself up on her elbows and the tiredness melted away. it was cassiopeia.

that was everything she needed. ellie got up with a new surge of energy, taking the map with her and anything else she could find useful. she strode away from the grim scene on their horse, following the map to the first exit off the utah highway. with the horse, the rest of the journey seemed like light work. it was only an hour before she spotted the fences to the community.

tying the horse to a hidden tree for a get-away, she circled the small town. the fence was chain linked and she watched inside as the town woke up to start their day. ellie was able to see that only a small amount of people woke up this early, leaving the streets barely occupied.

staying in the shadows, she slipped under the fence that was poorly secured. she found herself in between two small houses, ellie could make out mumbled words from the street so she moved up, making sure to stay as close to the wall of the house as possible.

“....hopefully they will come back with the stuff by tomorrow.” a woman's voice could be heard, ellie dared not to peek around the corner and listened further to their conversation.

“we don’t even know if they have anything, we could be chasing a dead end.” ellie’s eyebrows furrowed as the second voice spoke. she figured they were talking about the group she had slaughtered, but could jackson be the dead end they were speaking about? is that why they wanted you?

“just gotta hope for the best, i guess.” the woman spoke again before her footsteps could be heard walking away. ellie’s body tensed up, quickly her mind showed her the haunting image of your face and she shook her head, focusing her eyes around the corner. she caught a glimpse of the woman walking down the sidewalk, leaving the man to stand in front of the house alone. he was reading a note intensely and ellie took a look around to make sure her coast was clear.

she came up behind him, swiftly covering his mouth and dragging him back between the houses for cover. she ripped the note from his hands and used the bandana that had been around his head to cover his mouth and threw him to the ground. while she examined the note, her pistol was focused on him keeping him in place.

residents be advised that your council is doing all they can to provide for you. we are currently bartering with a town in wyoming for food, and unlike last time, we are sure they will be more than happy to provide.

ellie balled up the paper in her fists, scoffing and throwing it beside the man. “the girl, where is she?” ellie hissed at him, keeping her voice low. he mumbled through the bandana and she rolled her eyes. “don’t fucking scream, you can make it out of this.” she said before pulling the bandana down.

the mans eyes were wide with fear as he looked upon ellie, but he spoke fast and quietly while darting his eyes between her and the gun. “i don’t know about a girl, i really don’t plea–”

ellie shook her head before snatching his wrist in her hand, bending his finger back and he winced. “okay, okay okay,” he rushed out, feeling his finger about to snap. “our hunters, they came back a few days ago with something they wouldn’t tell anyone about,” he paused, looking at ellie and her grip loosened.

“keep talking.” she ordered him and he stammered his words, trying to desperately abide by her rules.

“usually they bring the meat to the kitchen but-but they parked the truck outside of our leaders house, said it was nothing but it didn-didn’t look like nothin’.”

ellie moved the gun into his neck, nuzzling it right below his ear and his breathing hitched up. “where?”

“go left do-down the street, the truck is old you can’t miss it!” ellie knew the truck all too well and without another word she removed the gun from his neck and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“thanks–” ellie whispered as her switchblade lodged itself in his neck. he didn’t scream, just looked at her wide-eyed as he tried to stop his neck from bleeding. ellie didn’t wait around, his blood still bubbling as she walked away, turning left down the street.

she was careful, she moved down the street hiding behind cars, bushes and whatever else she could find. when she was starting to think the man had given her bad information, the truck came into view. it was parked blissfully in the driveway of a quaint looking house. she found herself climbing through an open window on the first floor, escaping the street and its peering eyes. ellie landed in the living room of the house, it wasn’t decorated, the walls were blank and the furniture looked like it was rotting away.

that's when she heard voices coming from upstairs, she almost ascended the stairs herself but the voices were coming closer. she hid behind the dusty couch as the stairs creaked and found herself in the company of two men who had no idea she was eavesdropping.

“we already sent the group, why do you need more from her?” the raspy voice uttered, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone.

ellie heard a long sigh, “because they could become our primary suppliers. as long as we have her, they will give us whatever we want. for as long as we want.” the second man spoke with a heavy country accent and her blood boiled, she stopped herself from jumping the two, instead listening for more information.

“she wasn’t very forthcoming the first time–”

his voice was cut off, “well fuckin’ make her. i told you whatever it takes.” another sigh filled her ears, and she wasn’t sure who had done it but feet were stomping away and she glanced around the couch. she witnessed a bald man opening a door down a dark hallway, while the man who had the accent went back upstairs. her brain was split, but she knew they wouldn’t have kept you upstairs so she followed the bald man with the raspy voice, opening the door silently and descending the stairs that were behind it.

the end of the staircase opened up to a dimly lit basement, it was unfinished and dirty. she caught a glance at a metal door at the opposite end of the room before turning her attention back to the bald man, who was crouching down beside a workbench. it was lined with tools, but ellie knew what they were for. so as fast as she could, she approached him. he was barely able to turn around before she tackled him to the ground. the man was big but being caught off guard helped ellie as her hands gripped around his neck.

she put all of her body weight into his neck, he was choking and failing his arms around at ellie. it didn’t phase her, even when he had slapped her across the face in his panic. her face was contorting with all the exertion and she stared down at him, never breaking eye contact. a scar was slashed across his face and she recognized this as the man who had thrown you into the truck, the image coming to her clearly. his eyes were bulging from their sockets and his legs were kicking with a passion but as ellie came to this realization she jerked her hands down, the applied pressure breaking his neck under her hands and he immediately went limp.

in a cloudy haze she stood up, catching her breath and looking around for a key. she practically threw everything off of the workbench in front of her and when she didn’t find it she moved back to the man on the floor. she dug through his pockets and her fingers found a small metal key.

she walked towards the metal door slowly. now that she was here, she was terrified of what she would see behind the door. she put the key into the lock and turned, earning a click. she breathed out all the air in her lungs before pushing it open and her heart was beating faster than she had ever known possible. the room was dark, and seemed empty. the light from the other room allowed her to see a small switch on the wall and she flicked it on, now fearing you werent even here.

but you were. the light came on and your hands flew to your face shielding your eyes. ellie’s eyes immediately brimmed with tears seeing you. she took a step forward, taking off her backpack and laying it on the ground beside her. you were so obviously injured, puncture wounds up and down your legs with dried blood surrounding them. the chain around your ankle had almost embedded itself in your skin, resulting in a horrible looking bruise that had worked its way up your leg. ellie breathlessly said your name, tears falling from her eyes and your hands moved from your face slowly.

your eyes weren’t adjusted, you just saw a blurry figure in front of you but you could have sworn you heard her voice. the voice that had escaped you every time you tried to hold on to it, and you thought your brain was playing a cruel prank. “please don’t,” you uttered quietly, fearing she was the man with the scar coming back to torture you more.

ellie dropped to her knees in front of you, looking at your battered body not able to form words. they had broken you, and she blamed herself. anger brewed inside of her but in this moment, she remained soft spoken. “it’s me,” she whispered, reaching her hand out to touch your leg which you snaked away, still not believing she was actually there. you believed you were so desperate to see her, to hear her, that she materialized out of thin air. but that meant you were truly losing your sanity and you could barely look at her.

“its not you–” you said back to her, looking to the floor and ellie’s eyes shut tightly to hold back anymore tears. you had backed up all the way to the wall, leaving ellie in the center of the room. she slowly moved to you as you watched her from your peripheral view.

she came up in front of you, “it’s me, pumpkin,” and placed a hand to your shallow cheek as she always had done.

feeling her warm hands on your face, you met her eyes. her warmth couldn’t be your imagination and your own eyes welled up as she dragged her thumb carelessly across your cheek. her appearance didn’t even phase you, all you cared about was her. “ellie,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and placing your hand on top of hers that cupped your face. “you’re actually here?” your voice was small and faint, and it felt like ellie was stabbed in the heart.

the blur that ruined her memories of you was gone. even the image of you being whisked away was gone. she scanned your still perfect face, it’s only faults being sunken in from hunger and bruising that littered your cheeks but it was still perfection to her. she felt more relief than she had when she killed the man in the woods, and the bald man that still laid a few feet away. you were here in front of her, finally. ellie couldn’t help but smile at you, all her efforts hadn’t been in vain.

“i’m actually here,” she repeated to you, connecting your foreheads together. “i found you.”

ellie leaned back, inches from your face. her voice rang in your ears and you felt like you were floating with every word that came from her mouth after missing it for so long. you managed a smile for her. she was so close to you that you had barely seen the figure towering over her from behind, your mouth began to form her name to warn her but it was too late. the figure smashed ellie over the head and she fell unconscious beside you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fic #ellie williams x you #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams fanfiction #biblically accurate ellie williams #angst angst angst #ellie williams the last of us part 2 #santa barbra ellie

1K notes · View notes

digonthis · 26 days ago

Text

Catered Audience- Pt. 1

Spencer Agnew x f!Reader

2.2k words

( ᴅᴍ ᴏʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴛᴀɢ :] ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ sᴍɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs sᴏ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ʟᴍᴋ ɪʟʟ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɪғ ɴᴏᴛ ɪʟʟ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀᴄᴄ ᴛᴏ sʜɪᴛᴘᴏsᴛ ɪɢ? ɪᴅᴋ )

slow burn-ish, fluff, mutual pining, all that shit

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧♡‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

You smile as you sit at the bar and a glass of your favourite drink is immediately placed in front of you. This dump had been your go-to spot for the last forever. Your name, order, and horrible singing on karaoke night was well-known by all the bartenders and plenty of the other patrons, one of which who sat in the stool next to you a few minutes later.

Josh pushed his glasses up his face, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh. As he takes a sip of his beer, you place your chin in your hand, leaning down onto the bar a little. “Long day?”

He nods slightly, tongue poking out to lick the froth from his upper lip. “Work’s been a lot lately, been on overtime filming… I love food but the idea of cooking anything after work is too much, and so beer dinner was born.”

This makes you laugh and nod as he chugs the remains of the beer down, leaving only traces of foam in the glass. You think of your own work, a self-run catering business, and let out a short sigh. “At least you’ve got work to do, I seem to be the only person I cook for at all.”

“I’d buy dinner offa ya, i’d buy dinner for the whole mythical crew if it’d mean I don’t have to make it myself…” Josh admits as he starts on another beer. The idea makes you chuckle a little, but as your eyes meet his you don’t see any humour, only exhaustion. “I mean… if you’ve got a work party or somethin’ you know i’m always free…” You offer carefully, not wanting to sound too desperate.

A few weeks later, you push the door to the Mythical studio open with your back, arms plentifully filled with huge trays filled with piping hot food. Josh trails behind you, carrying even more, shouting out directions and greetings to his coworkers as you pass them by, all captured and excited by the smell of the food you’re bringing in.

The first of many orders went over well, to the point that everyone on Mythical knew your name. Parties, events, and even just long filming days kept you busy with plentiful orders and generous tips, but Rhett and Link knowing your name and personally greeting you the last few times you’d come in had been what really made the gig. Hanging around after deliveries became natural, making friends, chatting, and blushing at everyone’s compliments on your cooking and hard work. Mythical became like a second home, you could never imagine any other job or quitting this one.

You almost quit the day Josh asked you to be in a video. Just at the end- a part of a taste test compilation of people trying his latest kitchen experiment for a Mythical Kitchen video, but he didn’t push the idea after he saw how wide your eyes got and how your hands started to shake a little before you shoved them deep in your pockets. The idea of being on camera in front of potential millions… it was not for you.

Josh had that air about him. Confident, genuine, unbothered. The kind of person who could look a lens in the face and convince anyone that he was all that and more, even if he didn’t know who exactly was behind there.

You jolt back to life as an eggshell falls into your mixer as you crack in an egg, snapping back to the present after your little brain spiral. You fish it out with a spoon before tossing it into the sink, grabbing a glass of water to hopefully clear your head up as you finish your latest order. The giant cake Josh had requested had you curious, you knew from memory that it was far too many servings even for everyone at mythical, almost double that. Nonetheless, when you double and triple checked Josh was confidently sure he got the order right.

The delivery spot for this one was a big banquet hall, nowhere near the studio. A little out of the usual, but nothing crazy. Josh, as usual, helped you bring in all the cake layers, and very unhelpfully watched as you stacked them all, gasping and jolting as you placed each, stressing you out to the point you made him put the last few on himself.

“What do you even need such a big cake for, it’s so unnecessary for the size of the company…” You ask as he puts the top layer on delicately, whispering his response as he focuses on the task. “We bought another company, this is a celebration kinda welcome party thing…” He breathes out. You relax your tensed-up jaw as you see the last layer goes on smoothly, gathering up all the boxes and placing the serving knives on the table.

“You’ll at least stay for a few drinks, right?” Josh asks as he backs away from the cake, admiring your work. “The bosses went all out on this party and I'm sure they’d be happy if you stuck around… and I hear there’s a prosecco fountain.” He adds, knowing exactly what to say to tempt you. It almost works, but your tired body and even sleepier mind win out over the idea of unlimited free drinks and partying. Josh protests all the way to your car, flipping you off as you drive away back to your apartment- and more importantly your bed.

As you snored and drooled all over your pillow, shitty Nickelback blasting from your phone, the same song played at the welcome party when one of the new editors got a hold of aux. A few groaned and many laughed at the song, dancing, mingling, and celebrating the purchasing of Smosh. The cake was a hit, Josh was sure to hype up his catering contact to anyone lingering by the table including the new company employees who hadn’t been acquainted with your cooking yet.

That time next week, you were buying Josh’s beer at the bar as a thank you. He’d secured you a catering gig with the new subsidiary, a channel called Smosh with just as large and rambunctious a crew as Mythical with far more on-camera personalities to get to know. You had only seen a few videos in passing but liked what you found, general comedy, fun, and games. With Smosh and Mythical both committed and regular customers, you were stretched thin with all the catering work, but extremely happy and grateful for it. Working a little harder was all worth it for the regular praise, thanks, and pretty penny you’d been making as of late.

Between hanging around the Mythical studios and Smosh, you were barely home anymore unless you were cooking something to bring right back there. Selina, who’s job you just considered to be the mom of Smosh, was a friendly face you could always count on to greet you. Chatting about the weather and sneaky food requests soon turned into office gossip and personal drama retellings, you could always count on her for a good chit chat whenever you were pulling up with food for the office.

You let out a huff as you lifted a particularly hefty tray onto a higher counter, Selina nearby idly relaying all the events of this particularly busy filming week. Long shoots, long days, and an exhausted cast and crew meant plenty of funny, juicy, and sometimes scandalous events to recap. As the door hinge squeaks open, you don’t have time to look to see who is walking in as you’re busy getting all the food set up. Selina pauses for a minute before continuing her little rant, and you hear the other person laugh and chime in on the story. You turn your head to meet smiling eyes, one of the crew members. Kiana was eager to join in on the gossip, and you caught yourself lingering behind even as cast and crew alike filed into the room to grab some dinner.

The three of you sat off to the side joking and laughing, but you found that they had much more to contribute gossip-wise than you did. Working all alone meant no employee conflicts, so a juicy story was just double the excitement to you. Your work could be lonely at times, so soaking up the positive energy from all the new people at Smosh had definitely done you some good.

The next time Smosh had a tough filming week, you were a little more prepared. Huge orders like that meant plenty of gossip so you’d cleared your evening for the hell of it, and the smile Selina threw at you as you carted in a heavy ass trolley of food told you it’d be a feat worth the reward. You were surprised to find Angela, an energetic and spunky cast member you hadn’t really met formally, rooting through the fridge. She smiled when she saw you, and that grin only grew wider at the sight of the food you’d brought with you. “Hell yes! Did you bring dessert again?” She asked excitedly, closing the door with a drink in her hand. You smiled at this, nodding.

“Tres leches cake and sugar cookies~” You tease, placing the dessert trays onto the counter first and gesturing to them with a welcoming grin. “The corners of the cake are always the best, in my opinion. I’d go dessert first today if I were you.”

Soon later, Angela and Selina were both sitting at the table with generous slices of cake, telling a wild story of some employee crossovers and trading between Mythical and Smosh. While you were engrossed in the story, you couldn’t help but wonder where everyone else was. Usually by the time you were done setting up, you had a few hungry people hovering around or at least heads peeking into the room, but the building seemed like a bit of a ghost town.

“You keep looking around for people, but I think everyone without something to do right now is sitting in on the shoot.” Selina says, a keen eye reading your thoughts. Mention of said shoot made Angela giggle though a mouthful of cake. She brought up one of the editors, a super funny guy who hadn’t been on camera all that much but could have everyone in tears laughing whenever he did get the chance. Word had spread that he was doing a character for a video today, and was outshining all the regular cast members in the shoot with his jokes.

In a minute Angela had finished her cake and tossed the paper plate, linking arms with you. “Have you seen a shoot yet? I gotta get an eye on this but I don’t want you running away yet…” She says with a devious grin as you shake your head no. It had always been a curiosity of course, seeing the behind-the-scenes of everything, but you’d never been keen on intruding on something important like that. Angela’s mind seemed void of anything like that as she cheerily led you to a set, the sounds of laughing and cheers guiding the pair of you two.

Your hesitation melted away as you heard… Limp Bizkit lyrics. Why were you hearing this? Was that guy supposed to be Fred Durst? Darts? Why are there fake birds??? The absurdity of it all quickly overtook your anxiety of intruding on this shoot, Angela leading you to an area off to the side where familiar faces sat and laughed at the entertainment. A few people recognized you with smiles and waves, some others were too engrossed in the jokes. You had to force your eyes away from the set to look over the crew and tech of it all, huge cameras and elaborate microphones, smiling faces behind the workings of it all. You knew you’d kick yourself later for not really taking it all in, but you couldn’t tear your focus away from the cast and their shenanigans, specifically the horrible fred durst impersonator. You knew this must have been the editor Angela was talking about, but you almost couldn’t believe someone this funny and lively isn’t a full-time actor.

You snapped yourself out of the daze of laughing and enjoying the shoot when you caught a glimpse of the time on your watch. You squeezed Angela’s knee appreciatively before slipping out of the room, having lost track of time. You found Selina at her desk again and couldn’t help a quick stop to gush about how funny this guy was. Spencer, who’s name she provided, was apparently one of the coolest guys around the office. You couldn’t help but show Selina the little Limp Bizkit pin on your bag, giggling with her about it before you leave for the night, far behind schedule.

You threw on your old Bizkit vinyl for the hell of it when you finally got home, humming along and fighting a smile any time the stupid bit came to your mind. It was obviously meant to appeal to a niche audience, one you definitely fall into. You spend the rest of the evening on a new order requested from Smosh, one that definitely had you excited. Mumbling along lyrics you were surprised you could still remember, you got started on a long night of work.

Part 2 >>

#smosh #smosh games #smosh fanfic #smosh fanfiction #spencer agnew #spencer x reader #spencer agnew x reader #spencer agnew fanfic #spencer agnew fanfiction #spencer agnew imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #smosh x reader #smoshblr #spencer smosh #proofreading is for the weak

99 notes · View notes

nectardaddy · 5 months ago

Text

B.I.L.L.S , t. hanamaki

american hero. . . b.i.l.l.s. by towa bird

If I had a dollar then I wouldn't have to bother 'bout the bills. I'm so tired of paying rent.

pairing : hanamaki takahiro x f!reader

cw/notes : poverty/financial insecurity, conversation about/wishing for "what could be" (and a deep dive into the feeling of wanting), use of the pet name "sweetheart," humor as a coping mechanism, language, eating used as a metaphor, lots of metaphors in general, established long-term relationship, I am genuinely very proud of this fic so if you got tagged out of the blue that's why <3

word count : 2.6k

The apartment was dingy and run down, a muted tone of gray that submerged the entire cramped space into desolace. A desolace that bled into the other rooms, through the floorboards, through every nook and cranny of the compact unit - through the bones of the pair that inhabited it. Pictures and posters littered the drab walls. Old developed pictures and various music flyers stuck to drywall with bits and pieces of scotch tape - real frames were far too expensive - as they tried desperately to combat the dreary aura of the space.

But it was difficult to fight against such longing; around every corner being yet another issue that would only ever be resolved with the one thing the pair didn’t have: funds. Air conditioning that went out every other month, as the landlord was too stingy to really fix it and complained with every call and maintenance request about the issue. Mold in the air vents, water pressure that was just short of a small stream, a lock on the door that barely bolted with a small chain lock that was used as a "replacement" that didn't really do anything. It reeked of dust and mildew, a musty smell that lingered no matter how many candles were lit and blown out. And trial and error to shut the, horribly painted, bedroom room; over the months they learned to turn the knob and slam rather than just slam.

It was a constricted, at times uncomfortable; limited space meaning old cardboard boxes stayed within the living area or bedroom - mementos gathered dust that all but covered the unit entirely. Memories shoved in a box that would barely ever see the light of day, or simply, didn’t want to. Such a place didn’t deserve such warmth. A god forsaken space didn’t deserve the radiant coziness that came with trinkets and baubles, didn’t deserve the framed pictures - that would crash to the ground anyway, as the drywall often crumbled and fragmented - and surely didn’t deserve the mellow residents who resided in it.

Both home from work, and both exhausted beyond belief, they sat together on an old, thrifted loveseat. A gaudy flower pattern that was stained and smelled of cigarettes from the latter owners, but a place to sit nonetheless. The man shuffled through a slew of mail, the woman, with her eyes closed and trying not to fall asleep right then and there, sat next to him.

“I’m so fucking tired of paying this shit,” he grumbled before throwing the envelopes onto the rickety coffee table. A table that was discounted, dirt cheap, as one leg was cracked and wobbly. Oftentimes, it broke when too much weight was put on it, duct tape lined the connection between the leg and table itself. All it held was other envelopes - bills, an array of clipped coupons, and a long forgotten coffee cup, that’s rim was chipped and the handle cracked.

“Then don’t,” the woman hummed in response, a cheeky reply to a serious notion. An exhaustion riddled in her voice that made him look over and sigh, heart strings pulled taut at seeing her weary form. “We can run away together and never have to see this shit hole again.”

He stayed quiet for a moment, letting a pause settle between them. Allowed the sound of the fan in the far corner of the room to take over the silence he offered, the hum of it engulfed the room as it rotated to cool the entire apartment. “Maybe we should,” he sighed before a small smile pulled at his lips. “We can go off grid and everything, y’know they make shows about people that live like that, right? We could be famous.”

A breath of air passed through the woman’s nose as she chuckled, and she opened her eyes to look over at him. “You’re an idiot.” Even as she smiled at him, he couldn’t help but notice just how tired she looked. Her eyes were dark and hazy, unfocused even, as it seemed like all she wanted to do was close them again - to sleep. Her work uniform crumbled and wrinkled as she sat with her legs up on the small couch, too worn out to change upon coming, to what they reluctantly called, home.

Home, to them, was coming back at odd hours. Never fully holding each other as the other had to whisk themselves away - to provide, to work. Times were fleeting, just as much as the money that came in. Gone within a second and drained from responsibilities. Every second together was taken with an ironclad grip, and sewn together with cups upon cups of coffee just to try and enjoy it all.

“Where would you want to go if we had the money to leave?” The off kilter question left his lips easily, without much thought put behind it. Because to him, that's all he ever thought about - leaving. He hoped one day he was able to scrape up enough funds, pack everything up, and leave the cramped unit all together with her by his side.

“Anywhere, honestly, this place sucks ass.” She groaned as she stretched her legs off the loveseat. A series of pops from overworked limbs hit his ears and made him frown - she didn't deserve to be this tired, not for this piece of shit apartment. Not for anything.

“I’m serious.” His normal, almost whimsical, tone went with the wind as he sat up a little straighter. He looked over to her with red tinged eyes, fatigued and strained, that swirled with an unforeseen worry.

“So am I.” A curt reply as she locked eyes with him. A realist, maybe a bit pessimistic to some, but the woman grounded herself in reality more than he. Didn't want to waste herself away with thoughts of what could be than what is. What could be was a sham, a figment of imagination she couldn't bear herself to think about often; as the thought of what is yanked her to the very pits of longing that she would later have to tear herself out of.

“I know where I’d want to go.” A dream he hadn’t told her before, he wished he had the money to surprise her with it. But that day was far off in the distance, a mere glimmer of a memory, and he cracked under the pressure of wanting to share. At least this way, they could experience the dream together.

“Yeah? Where?” She closed her eyes again and let her head fall to his shoulder.

“I’d want to go to Tokyo.”

She snorted at the thought, “spare me, Hiro, not this shit again.” A half hearted joke that landed a bit on edge, toed the line of snappy through drowsy laced words. A former wish she had heard before from him, a joke to only go to Tokyo to get piss drunk with friends.

“No, not the bar hopping thing.” He assured and waved off the remark with a small chuckle.

“Good, because you do that shit with Mattsun here anyway. You don’t need to drag me to Tokyo just for me to babysit you two idiots there.” Babysitting, truly, was an understatement to the woman. The thought made her cringe as she recalled past memories of his dear friend passed out in their bathroom, head in the toilet and completely out cold.

“I want to take you to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms one day.” His voice was a twinge quieter than before, a bit breathless as he couldn’t believe himself for finally saying the dream aloud. Deep brown eyes shifted over to look at the woman, whose head still rested on his shoulder - completely silent.

The comment had her at a lack of words, letting another silence pass by them once more; but it lingered far too long. A silence that, as moments passed, began to have a weight to it and started to suffocate her. Every inhale became shallower than the last, and she couldn’t find it within herself to take a single breath more of the humid, musky air the apartment provided. She felt herself tumble into the gaping hole of wanting, needing, craving - pure, unbridled hunger for more than what is. A ravishing feeling that took her by the shoulders and shoved, falling head first into the empty, hollow feeling of what could be.

What could be was far from reality, what could be couldn’t happen.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked over at him, eyes a bit wider than before and lips parted through means to say something - nothing ever came. “You told me three years ago you wanted to do that.” Quiet words answered her unspoken question and she sucked in a breath. She remembered telling him that vividly, could recall the day to a tee as it held importance to her.

It rained that day, poured down onto the street as they ran back to their shared apartment - a better one than what they had now. Steps taken hastily, hand in hand, as he practically dragged her through the downpour with a laugh. Both forgot an umbrella, so they ran through the rain getting more and more soaked with every step. It wasn’t far from their unit, the pair only went down the street to a convenience store. But the storm they tried to outrun inevitability caught up with them, so the leisurely walk back home turned to a sprint.

Upon their return, they found themselves sprawled out on their bedroom floor. Their clothes drenched from rain and water puddled onto the hardwood underneath them. A silly action, to lay on the floor wet. But neither minded as they giggled and laughed with one another, enjoying the other’s company.

Strawberry blonde hair stuck to his forehead and he raked a hand through it. A chuckle left his lips from an earlier conversation before he looked over at her once more, “if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?”

“What kind of question is that, Hiro?” A teasing tone laced within her cadence as she locked eyes with him. Bright and hopeful, full of love, and not an ounce of exhaustion swirling within them.

“One that I’m curious about, obviously, so indulge me.” The whimsy in his words was easily apparent, one of which she got used to quickly. And there was a sass in the timbre of his voice that muddled with care, a juxtaposition to his usual standalone brassiness.

“What’s yours?”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you.”

He watched the woman smile before she averted her eyes to the ceiling, scrunched her brows in thought a moment before she looked at him once more. “Probably Ueno Park, in April, to see the cherry blossoms.”

“Are you serious? Anywhere in the world, and you want Tokyo?” He never looked away from the woman throughout the conversation, and when she met his gaze once more he smiled.

“Did you ask just to make fun of me, asshole?”

“No, god no.” He laughed, lips pulling into a silly smile before he took her hand in his own. “I’m just trying to figure out where I should ask you to marry me one day.”

The inescapable feeling of want consumed her, leaving nothing left behind as she was swallowed whole. A swirling sensation in her stomach that sickened her, made her ill to think about too long as all she could do was stare at him. “Takahiro.” Her words fell to a whisper as eyes flickered between his own, desperately trying to gauge the situation but to no avail. “You can’t be serious?”

“As a heart attack, sweetheart.” The smile he had started to falter, and the concern that saturated her eyes made his heart sink. But through that concern, the smallest, most miniscule, glimmer of need shone through. Even through tired, bloodshot eyes and a tinge of cynicism, she wanted the dream just as much as he, if not more.

“Hanamaki,” she breathed. “Be real for a second-” But she was cut off as he turned to face her, the old loveseat squeaking under the shift of weight, and he took her hands in his own

“I am being real, so put that name away.” Erring on defensive, put a care behind it that she couldn't ignore. A rare seriousness in his voice that made her swallow hard. “I’m taking you to see those damn cherry blossoms at some point, and when I do I'm asking you to marry me.”

She opened her mouth to say something but promptly shut it, not knowing what to say to the man. But she felt as the ravenous feeling turned to a starved, almost primal, one. Felt her stomach twist into knots at the thought - she wanted to swallow the notion completely. Needed to feel the crunch and snap of it in her mouth, wanted her teeth caught in it, needed it to be consumed until nothing was left. She abstained from could be for too long and needed to devour the concept entirely.

But could be wasn’t what is. What is left a bruise, tender and raw, that left a rotten taste in her mouth. She felt the urge to spit out the thought as it circled within her mind like a vulture, ready to dive within a split second. “But-”

“We will, I swear.” He cut off her protest and squeezed her hand. But to no avail, as she only looked at him with a sense of apprehension.

“But we're-”

“I know, I know,” he sighed. Brown eyes slid over to the envelopes on the coffee table, bold red letters catching his attention that made him close his eyes. “Believe me, I know.” A disheartening belief that caused him to take a deep breath before opening his eyes again to look at her. He brought a hand to her cheek, pale fingers gently brushed over her skin with a warmth that was inviting, loving, and selfless. He gave her a small, out of sorts, smile, “but I want to do this. For you. For us. Hell, because we deserve to do something nice. I want us to have something to look forward to other than the same, shit ass, walls everyday.”

She paused a moment, let his words sink in, before she bit down hard on the concept and refused to let go. “Ok,” she nodded carefully. “Alright, we’ll go to Ueno Park one day.” Could be tasted sweet and savory, mouth watering to think about. It eased a craving that deflected from what is - so just this once, she let herself free fall into it. “Do you even have a ring to ask me with?”

His smile pulled into a grin at her question, and he chuckled. “Would you say yes to a ring pop?”

With a paltry laugh, she leaned into his hand that was still on his cheek. “As long as it's strawberry, then absolutely, you dumbass.”

“Strawberry it is, sweetheart.”

However, he didn’t really need the sweet, confectionary ring. In one of the many old cardboard boxes within the living area and bedroom that collected dust - a particularly well kept, small box hidden in the back of their tiny, shared closet - was a ring he bought three years ago. Bought shortly after the conversation was had, when he still had the money to stretch. Stuffed between memories that would barely ever see the light of day, because a place like this didn't deserve such warmth.

But the warmth was willingly given anyway, whether the pair knew it or not.

series taglist (open, send an ASK) + a few moots bc I am genuinely very very very proud of this

@causenessus @softpia @renardiererin @kodzu-ken @phoenix-eclipses

@wyrcan @honeekyuu @wakashudou @wolffmaiden @eggyrocks

@dailyakira @cupidsblonde @mollyrolls @wolffmaiden @zumicho

@jadeoru @sandwhitches

#divider by @/bunnysrph #series: american hero #hq x reader #haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #hanamaki takahiro #takahiro hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro x reader #takahiro hanamaki x reader #makki x reader #hq makki #hanamaki x reader

105 notes · View notes

moremaybank · 2 years ago

Text

'TIL DEATH DO US PART — r.c

pairing rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary the night before your wedding, rafe reminds you that you'll always belong to him

warnings 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cheating, breeding kink (ish), creampie, language

author's note heyyy new layouttt. also i accidentally deleted the request for this bc i'm an actual idiot. don't hate me pls

rafe masterlist

Your rehearsal dinner looks like something out of a movie. A soft, warm light is cast around the room, reflecting off the chandelier hanging from the centre of the ceiling beautifully. The hall is jam-packed with almost every kook on the island, who are all dressed to the nines and engaging in small talk.

You spot your fiancé Jackson across the way, catching up with some of his old friends from college. He throws his head back in laughter, assumably in response to a joke, and you smile at how happy he looks.

A year ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d find yourself engaged to Jackson. Truthfully, you only ever saw yourself marrying a certain Cameron boy. But things change. You still aren't sure for better or worse, but they have nonetheless.

Deciding that you need another drink after thinking about he who shall not be named, you navigate through the crowd in pursuit of the bar.

“A shot of tequila, please.”

The bartender nods, grabbing a shot glass off one of the shelves and topping it up. You bid him a thank you and quickly down the contents of the small glass. You shut your eyes at the slight burn, feeling the warmth make its way down your system. You let it wash away the memories of him. Even after all this time, you can still feel his hands on you and his soul intertwined with yours, as if he left an imprint on you forever.

He branded you, and you’ll never forget it, not even when you’re married to Jackson.

You know it’s horrible. It’s awful. Jackson is an incredible guy. He’s everything Rafe isn’t, everything Rafe could never be, and you can see yourself being happy with him for the rest of your life. But even so, deep down, you still yearn for the imperfection and flawed love that came with being Rafe’s.

You request another shot, knocking it back faster than your brain can process. The guilt is eating you alive, and you’re desperate to kill it. You shouldn’t be thinking about him. Not here, not now, and certainly not with your poor, unknowing fiancé across the room.

“Rough night?”

A chill runs down your spine, and goosebumps prick at your skin. It’s as if your senses have just come alive at the mere sound of his voice.

You prepare yourself, shutting your eyes and taking a deep breath before turning around to face him.

There he is, standing in all his devilishly handsome glory. His eyes are as icy and blue as ever, his sharp features already making you weak in the knees. His body is clad in a perfectly tailored Armani suit, with dress shoes to match.

It’s shameful to admit, but he looks gorgeous. Then again, when does he not?

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He inches closer to you, his dress shoes lightly clacking against the marble tiles of the floor. “Relax, princess. I just came here to give you your wedding gift, seeing as I’m not invited to the actual wedding.”

“You weren’t invited here, either. If Jackson sees you—”

“—Let him see me. I don’t care.”

Same old Rafe Cameron, you think, cocky as ever.

“You can’t be here, Rafe. I’m not going to let you ruin this for me.”

Your hands find his arms, and you spin him around before shoving him and making a beeline for the doors. You locate the nearest restroom and push him inside, locking the door behind the two of you.

“I gotta say, I’m not feeling very welcome here,” Rafe notes.

“That’s because you aren’t. You know Jackson has always felt insecure about our past. It’s not fair of you to come here and try to stir the pot the night before our wedding. You have to go, Rafe.”

Rafe’s eyes trail down your form. The dress you’re wearing outlines your curves perfectly. Your arms are crossed against your chest, further accentuating your cleavage. Thanks to the heels strapped around your ankles, your legs look longer, and you’re glowing more than ever.

“You look stunning,” he notes, rubbing his fingers against his lips as he drinks you in.

“Why are you here? Seriously.”

“C’mon, baby. You didn’t think I’d let you marry that fucker without getting one last taste of what’s mine, did you?”

A sinister-like smirk plasters itself on his face when he notices your stern expression falter, and he knows his words are having the desired effect on you.

“Don’t go there, Rafe,” you say, walking over to the sink and creating more distance between you. You brace your hands on the counter, taking a deep breath and purposely avoiding Rafe’s heated gaze in the mirror's reflection.

“Why? ‘Cause you’ll jump at the chance?” He asks, stepping closer to you. “I can see it in your eyes, princess. You miss me.”

You scoff, “Actually, I don’t."

“You do. You miss my hands on you,” he whispers. His large hands find your hips. He glides them upward and toward your tits. He cups them over your dress, squeezing them and then revelling in the small, tortured moan you let out.

His lips brush against the shell of your ear, “You miss my lips on you.”

Then, his hands slide down to your hips again, pulling your ass against the hard cock in the confinement of his slacks. “And you miss my cock inside of you, fucking you ‘til you’re babbling.”

You can feel yourself growing wet as he rubs against you, and you’re tempted to lean into his touch and give in. But then you think about how wrong this is. Yes, you’re harbouring feelings for your ex, but you’ve never acted on them and never planned to. And so, coming to your senses, you brush him off and turn to face him.

“Go home, Rafe. You…you have to go home.”

You're barely able to maintain eye contact with him, and you're sure he'll either call your bluff or straight-up ignore your wishes.

“I’m not going anywhere."

Straight-up ignoring, it is.

“Stop it.”

“No,” he simply states. “You’re mine whether you like it or not, don’t you get that? You can’t walk away from this. From me.”

Rafe’s tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he stares down at you, awaiting your next move. He senses your uncertainty. He knows you need him just as much as he needs you, and he can see how hard you’re trying to fight it.

He’s always loved your fiery persistence.

His gaze intensifies on yours, and before you can speak, his hand slips under the slit of your dress, cupping your wet core through your barely-there panties. The familiar feeling of his cool rings against you makes you shiver, just like old times.

“Look at that. Your pussy’s giving you away, baby. Even she knows you can’t resist me.”

“Bite me,” you grit out, trying your best not to give him a reaction when his fingers tease your clit.

“I will. Just remember you asked for it.” His head dips down, and he scrapes his teeth against your jawline, partially making good on his promise.

“You’re impossible. I can’t even look you in the eye right now.”

“Then turn the fuck around,” he says, both hands grabbing you before he spins you around to face the mirror. He hikes your dress up over your hips and tugs your panties to the side. You hear the clinking of his buckle as he undoes his belt, along with the unfastening of his zipper, and before you know it, his cock slams into you without warning. You inhale sharply at the sudden intrusion, and Rafe does nothing to hide the smug look on his face.

Without allowing you to adjust, he starts to snap his hips against yours quickly and harshly, as if he’s punishing you for even daring to look in another man’s direction.

“Rafe, fuck,” you whine, your sanity now long gone. Your mouth is wide open as you take his harsh thrusts. He uses this opportunity to fuck the idea into your brain: you will never be rid of him.

“Look how much you missed me. It’s written all over your face. Not to mention, all over my cock,” he grates, referring to the arousal you've coated him in. He goes harder, impaling you balls deep. “So fucking needy. Does he even fuck you right? Get you off? Or are you thinking of me when he tries?”

“Shut the fuck up and make me cum, Rafe.”

“I don’t think you’re in the position to make demands, sweetheart. Not when you’re about to marry a pathetic nobody that can’t make you scream like I can.”

You hate how his words still cut deep, mainly because he’s right. But you don’t want to give him the satisfaction, not when he’s already getting what he wants from you.

You shut your eyes, trying to ignore him, but Rafe quickly shuts that down. He lands a harsh slap on your ass before gripping your throat. “Nuh-uh. You’re gonna watch me while I fuck you. You need to know that your pussy belongs to me. All your cum and all your orgasms belong to me. Not him. Not anyone else. Me.”

You stare into his eyes in the mirror’s reflection after opening them back up, biting your lip as you try to keep yourself quiet.

“There she is. There’s my girl,” he rasps. His hand leaves your throat, slithering down to your clit and rubbing rough circles into it. He feels your knees buckle when he does so, and he doesn’t miss the breathy moan that escapes your lips. “Fuck, I missed those sounds, princess.”

Rafe’s cock jams into a particularly deep spot inside of you, and before you can stop yourself, you yelp loudly. His jaw clenches, and the hand on your clit abandons it to cover your mouth and muffle your noises.

“Make one more noise, and everyone in the goddamn party will know what a greedy fucking whore you are. One dick just isn’t enough to satisfy my girl, huh?”

The secrecy and excitement blossoming from your current affair both send you into a spiral. You whimper against the palm of his hand, and you bite down on the skin to silence yourself. He’s reaching immaculate places and making you see stars, and you think that this must be what heaven feels like. You’re not quite sure what to make of the fact that Rafe is bringing paradise to you instead of your loving and faithful fiancé, but all you can focus on is how electrified you feel.

“Play with your clit. Soak my fucking cock, baby.”

You do, flicking it relentlessly as Rafe fucks you over the edge. You cry into his hand, your breath shaky as your body jerks. The warmth spreads throughout your body, leaving a dewy glow on your skin.

Rafe releases his hand from your mouth and returns it to your hip to get his own. He pulls you back into him repeatedly, his cock jamming into you and weakening your legs.

“I’m going to cum right inside this pussy. Imagine if you were walking around on your wedding day with my baby in there. I think you’d fucking love that,” he grunts, getting himself worked up even further. Your walls flutter around him, thanks to his filthy mouth. He chuckles breathlessly, “That’s what I fucking thought.”

You reach behind you, grabbing his balls and massaging them in your hand. You feel his cock twitch inside you, followed by the heat of his cum shooting into your walls and painting them white. Rafe rides out his orgasm, and once he calms down, he pulls out of you. He moves your panties back into place and pulls your dress back down before tapping your butt with his index and middle finger.

“Now run back out there to your loser fiancé with my cum dripping down your thighs. Congratulations on the wedding.”

updated rafe taglist (join here!): @pankowperfection @tinyluvs @oncasette @rafesmoon @hopesdadswife @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @whoisdrewstarkey @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @twelfthmortalofcrimsonpalace @laineywilsons @sw34terw34ther @adoreyouusugar @rosie-cameron @f4ll-for-you @rafesdirtyslut @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @venomwh0re @cecesrings @cumbuckett @jjmaybankisbae @mvybanks

915 notes · View notes

rachelsfav-queer · 3 months ago

Text

Snoods

Wednesday silently snuck past the yellow police tape, careful not to let the bright, neon color touch her skin as she entered the now twice abandoned mansion. The last time she was here… she shuddered just thinking of that horrible night. It was certainly the worst birthday ever and not in the exciting way.

Shaking off the unpleasant thoughts, Wednesday continued into the mansion, entering the same way as before.

Everything was different inside and yet exactly the same, but she wasn’t here to explore or sightsee. She was here to grab something that never should’ve been lost. The raven went straight for the stairs down to the basement and soon enough… she found it. And it… broke her cold, black heart in ways she hasn’t felt in so long.

Shredded black fabric laid across the cold and dusty floor and Wednesday dropped to her knees to pick up all the pieces, tears flowing from her eyes unbidden as she tried to hold back her sobbing. Wednesday held the tattered fabric to her chest as she cried for who knows how long, just kneeling in this abandoned house that has taken so much from her, now taken one more thing from her.

Suddenly… “Wednesday?” A voice rang out throughout the house, traveling down the stairs like the echo of lost memories.

“Wednesday! Wednesday, why are you out here again? I swear, if this is another stupid- Wednesday?! Oh my gosh, Wednesday! Are you okay? Why are you crying? What happened? Are you- hurt… oh… Oh, Wednesday,” Enid’s voice softened impossibly as she noticed her girlfriend clutching the torn snood she had made for her all those years ago.

Enid quickly wrapped the seer up in her arms, holding her carefully, but oh so tightly, just how she knows the girl loves and as she does, the dam breaks and Wednesday lets out an absolutely heart-shattering sob as she curls up into Enid’s embrace.

Endless apologies would be spewing from Wednesday’s mouth if she weren’t crying so hard that any words were just completely incoherent. Enid shushed her gently and comfortingly rubbed her back and her head.

The werewolf waited out the worst of the storm, letting her girlfriend have a very overdue and much needed cry session that would hopefully wash out most of the emotional gunk that had definitely built up inside the poor raven since the day her pet scorpion died and she had sworn off tears and emotions altogether. It was necessary, Enid knew, despite how painful it was for her to hear the smaller girl sounding so entirely broken down and defeated.

Once Wednesday’s tears had slowed and all that was left was small little sniffles and hiccups, Enid pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes and spoke, “Feeling a little better? Yeah, I’m sure you are, that was probably a literal decade in the making. Don’t worry, baby, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

Wednesday hiccuped as she looked down at the torn snood in her arms, “It’s ruined…”

Enid simply smiled softly, “It’s okay. I’m very sure I can fix it, it’ll be good as new. But… I don’t think this was all just about the snood, was it?”

The raven shook her head as she looked away sadly. Formulating how to word it all, she was interrupted before she could even speak. “Hey, Wednesday? You don’t have to talk about it, if you’re not ready for it. Take your time, okay? Besides, we should probably get out of this creepy ass house before we get caught down here or something. Principal Weems will have a total fit if she finds out we were out here again.”

Enid’s bright optimism and enthusiasm always managed to sweep away all the pain and darkness inside Wednesday in a way that she just couldn’t fathom was real. Nonetheless, she nodded in agreement and the two girls stood up and walked out of the mansion together, this time holding hands while Wednesday held her snood tightly in her other arm.

It wasn’t okay yet, but it would be, in due time. Enid was right, it just takes time. And it’s okay to not be okay all the time. As long as they had each other.

(Day 29, Prompt 29 of Wenclair-Tober. Sorry this is so late lol. I took melatonin last night and it always makes me sleep in super late lol. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! Yes, it takes place in S2 time, whenever that exactly is. Weems is alive because I said so! Just remember, everyone, it’s okay to not be okay. Take care of yourselves and be patient with yourselves. Much love, Rachel ❤️)

#wenclairtober #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #enid x wednesday #wenclair prompts #writing prompts #october writing challenge #wednesday netflix #wednesday series #my writing

59 notes · View notes

topgun-imagines · 2 years ago

Text

Forget Me Not (iii)

Requested: no

Summary: Jake struggles with coming to terms with the loss of your baby. Even though he knows he has to tell you the truth, he can’t. Not yet.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of death, panic attacks, injuries, angst, headaches, memory loss, amnesia, miscarriage, hospitals.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x wife!reader

Previous part || Next part

When Jake stepped out of the room, the last thing he heard was your’s and Natasha’s laughter. The hinges of the heavy metal door creaked as it shut softly behind him. His eyes slipped shut and he breathed a heavy breath through his nose. What was he supposed to do? He had no idea whether you knew that you were pregnant before the accident or not. He also didn’t know if he should tell you that you were pregnant, let alone that you and Jake were married. After everything you had been through, you still looked so happy. How was he supposed to ruin that?

His chest felt tight and there was moisture in his eyes. Jake groaned. The man had hardly ever cried in his life. As far as he could remember, he had only cried twice. The first time was his eighth birthday. His mother had spent hours working on the perfect cake, decorated better than a professional ever could. It was supposed to be a relaxed evening, the Seresin family planning on simply enjoying their dinner together. That plan failed when Jake’s father returned home drunk, cussing out his mother for any reason he could think of. When a young Jacob Seresin tried to speak up in defence of his mother, bottles were thrown and his mother's beautiful cake was destroyed. A tear rolled down his cheek at the sight of his mother's hard work in shambles. The young boy was then lectured on how ‘men don’t cry’. From that moment forward, Jake made a conscious effort to never show weakness like that again.

The second time was on your wedding day. That morning, Jake had prepared himself to handle his emotions properly when the time came. But when he saw you walking down the aisle in that beautiful white dress that made you look like an angel, he couldn't help but let a few tears slip. You had smiled at him widely, tears of your own shining in your eyes as you walked down the aisle slowly. By the time you reached him, Jake had already had to dry his eyes twice on the handkerchief Rooster handed him.

Now, Jake had cried twice in the span of two days. At the thought of everything that had happened during those two days, he almost wanted to cry again. Had that accident not happened, he would be a father in seven months.

The door hinges groaned as it opened slowly. Bradley stepped into the hall and laid a comforting hand on Jake’s shoulder. “How you doing man?” He questioned gently. Jake sighed. Honestly, he had no idea how he was doing. On one hand, he was eternally grateful that you were okay. Even though you couldn’t remember him, he still thought that that was better than having to bury you. But on the other, he felt horrible. All he wanted was for you to be okay, and for you to have your memories back. But he knew that no matter what he did, he couldn’t make that happen for you. And that thought ripped him to shreds.

“I'm not sure,” His words were barely loud enough for Bradley to hear. Nonetheless, Bradshaw nodded in understanding. “How’r they doin’?” He motioned toward your room, where he could still hear you and Natasha chatting animatedly inside.

It was then that he remembered how you had instantly recognized Bradley. That was suddenly the only thought on his mind. Jake felt as if the room was closing in on him. Within seconds, his mouth was bone dry, his hands were shaking and it felt hard to breathe. It felt as if something was wrapping itself around Jake’s throat and squeezing until the pilot couldn’t take in breaths.

Bradley’s hand on his shoulder was what pulled him out of his spiralling state. He cleared his throat, wiping that same damn moisture from his eyes and avoided Bradley's concerned gaze. “‘M fine,” He murmured. The mustached pilot was still looking at Jake like there was something he wanted to say. “Spit it out, Bradshaw. ‘M not a damn mind reader.” Bradley hesitated.

“It’s just,” He started, weary of how Jake would respond to his words. “Are you ever gonna tell her the truth?” Bradley watched his friend for what felt like ages until his blank facial expression cracked. At this moment, Jake looked crazy. Even though there were tears welling in his eyes once more, the heartbroken pilot was laughing. His laugh was void of all humour. That wasn’t a laugh out of joy, one that Bradley had seen many times before. No, this was a laugh filled with pure pain. It was a laugh of irony.

Just as quick as he began laughing, Jake was quiet again. “I can’t,” He whispered, broken. “Not yet.” And just like that, Bradley accepted the answer. Did he think that Jake should tell you the truth? He wasn’t sure. Even Bradley knew the gravity of that decision. And he wasn’t even the one that had to make it.

The two of them were silent for the next few minutes. Neither of them knew what to say. Bradley had no idea how to comfort Jake. Sure, he had dealt with loss before, but it was nothing like this. The loss of his father at a young age and his mother a few years later hadn’t prepared him to watch two of his best friends struggle like this.

Just as Bradley was getting ready to make another comment, the door opened, revealing Pheonix. “She wants to see you.” She spoke to Jake with a soft smile. Immediately, Jake’s eyes lit up. Wordlessly, he stepped past her and into your room.

“Hi,” You grinned from the bed. Jake smiled sadly. Even hooked up to all kinds of monitors and covered in bandages, you still looked like an angel. He was breathless.

His smile was kind and his actions were slightly shaky as he moved to sit in the uncomfortable plastic chair. “Phoenix-” He started before correcting himself. “Natasha told me that you wanted to see me?” It was more of a question than a statement. His grin instantly grew when a rosy colour came over your cheeks.

Your fingers toyed with the scratchy sheets on the thin hospital mattress. “I was hoping that you could tell me more about us?” That made him freeze. When you noticed this you instantly began backtracking. “I mean, like, some stories from when we were in Miami.” Jake couldn’t turn you down, not when you were looking at him with those wide, curious eyes. He found himself smiling once again.

“Of course,” He muttered. It took the pilot a few seconds to think of a story that didn’t give away the fact that you were together. “Well, a few weeks after we met we ran into each other at the beach again,” You looked at him intrigued. “I finally got a day off and wanted to relax for a while. We hadn’t made plans to see each other and yet as I was stepping out of my truck I saw you in the parking lot.” With the exception of Jake’s soothing words, the room was silent.

He saw that familiar little smile growing on your face. That smile had to be his favourite sight in the whole world. “You were trying to carry so many things at once,” Your husband laughed quietly and smiled fondly at the memory. “You dropped a few things so I went to go help you. After that, we spent the rest of the day hanging out on the beach.”

“What did we do?” You whispered, almost breathless. You were transfixed by Jake, even though you couldn't figure out why. Jake’s words brought you a sense of calm that you hadn't felt in days.

Smiling, the pilot thought back to the events of that day. That was your first date. Jake remembered it like it was yesterday. “You wanted to look for seashells on the beach. You even had a little jar to collect them in. So, we spent hours walking down the beach. No matter how much you told me that I didn’t have to spend my day off with you, I told you that I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished that he would have taken them back. He knew that he needed to tell you the truth, but like he told Bradley, he couldn’t just yet.

But you only smiled. It didn’t matter that you couldn't remember him, his words just showed you exactly how much he cared about you. There was something comforting in knowing that after everything that happened in recent days, Jake still stuck by your side.

Jake continued to tell you about that day, not sparing any detail. He told you everything, down to the number of shells that you collected and the colours in the sunset later that night. The one thing that Jake left out was how you watched that sunset from a beach-front restaurant. It had taken Jake nearly an hour to convince you to go to dinner with him. But once you agreed, Jake had been sure to make it the most memorable night of your life.

Once Jake was finished telling his story, you were a blushing, joyful mess. You couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that Jake’s words brought you. Just as you were about to thank Jake for sharing those memories with you, a sharp, shooting pain developed on the left side of your head. You hissed quietly, trying not to worry the aviator in front of you as you rubbed your temple.

“Jake?” Murmuring quietly, your eyes slipped shut as you drew his attention to you. He hummed, eyebrows furrowing. His heart dropped when he noticed the pained expression on your face. “Would you excuse me? I think I’m going to lie down for a few minutes.” Even though he didn't want to leave you, the pilot respected your wishes. The plastic chair creaked loudly as he stood up.

Wordlessly, your husband exited the room. He turned the lights off and closed the door softly. While Bradley and Natasha were waiting only a few feet away with hopeful smiles on their faces, Jake couldn’t bring himself to walk toward them. Their smiles slowly dropped as Jake walked quickly away from them. With one quick glance between each other, they rushed after him.

They had never seen Jake more determined than he was now. Still, they remained quiet as they followed him, not knowing that currently, your husband was desperate to find your doctor.

a/n: Thank you for all the love on this series! I hope you enjoyed. Requests are open :)

Tagging: @topguncultleader @soulmates8 @t0kyoreveng3rs @there-goes-thefighter @supercatgirl006 @blueoorchid @dempy @dreamgirl3300 @atarmychick007 @alexxavicry @randomfangirl97 @bradleybeachbabe @chaoticassidy @ice-doc-val @nyx2021 @aviatorobsessed @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @natt-67 @angelbabyange @oliviah-25 @cassiemitchell @classyunknownlover @shelbycillian @khaylin27 @bruher @sunsetsimpsblog @lovelywiseprincess @fandom-life-12 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @emmza63 @cornishkat @iceman-kazansky @himbos-on-ice @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @wkndwlff @entertainmentgal8 @djs8891 @blackwidownat2814 @dakotakazansky @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @memoriesat30 @sarahjoestewy-blog @ducks118 @marvelouslyme96 @linkpk88 @missathlete31 @xoxabs88xox @abbymwall @eternallyvenus @keileighr @rey26 @lt-spork

Join my taglist!

493 notes · View notes