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corendisguise · 28 days ago

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Superman Unmasked & Unveiled

Chapter 1

Tom’s heart skipped a beat as the hotel elevator jolted to a stop. The small space, already feeling cramped with just him and the tall, broad-shouldered man beside him, suddenly felt even more confined. Henry Cavill—yes, *that* Henry Cavill—stood mere inches away, his presence almost overwhelming. Tom had seen him on the big screen, but up close, the actor was even more breathtaking, radiating an effortless charisma that made Tom’s mouth dry.

“Well,” Henry said, breaking the silence with a low, smooth voice that sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. “Seems we’re stuck.” His lips curled into a smirk, and his piercing eyes locked onto Tom’s, making it nearly impossible to look away. “Nice company, though.”

Tom swallowed hard, his brain struggling to formulate a response. “Uh, yeah. This is… unexpected.”

Henry chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, vibrating through the confined space. “Relax, it’s not the end of the world. We’ll be out of here soon enough.” He leaned casually against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps bulge beneath the tailored suit jacket. “So, what brings you to this hotel? Business or pleasure?”

Tom’s mind raced. How did one respond to such a question from someone like Henry Cavill? “A bit of both, I suppose,” he finally managed, hoping his voice didn’t betray how flustered he was.

“Mmm, intriguing.” Henry’s gaze dropped briefly to Tom’s lips before returning to his eyes. “I like people who keep things interesting.”

The air between them thickened, and Tom could feel the heat radiating off Henry’s body. The elevator’s emergency lights flickered, casting an eerie glow over the space, but neither man seemed to notice. All Tom could focus on was the way Henry was looking at him, like he was sizing him up, teasing him without even trying.

“You know,” Henry murmured, stepping closer, his voice dropping to a silken tone, “elevators have a tendency to bring people together in ways they never expect.”

Tom’s breath hitched as Henry closed the gap between them, their chests brushing ever so lightly. Henry’s cologne invaded his senses, a heady mix of spice and something wild, undefinable. “Do you believe in fate, Tom?” Henry’s hand came up, his fingers brushing against Tom’s jawline, his touch warm and deliberate.

“I—I don’t know,” Tom stammered, his pulse racing. “Maybe. Sometimes.”

Henry’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in closer, his breath fanning over Tom’s lips. “Then maybe this is fate’s way of giving us a little time alone. Just the two of us.”

Before Tom could respond, the elevator creaked and groaned, signaling its return to life. The doors slid open with a ding, and Henry stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly. Gone was the flirtatious tension, replaced by a charming, confident smile. “Well, that was exciting. Let’s continue this conversation somewhere a bit more comfortable, shall we?”

Tom hesitated, torn between the desire to follow Henry and the urge to flee. But the pull was too strong. Henry led the way down the hall, his gait smooth and commanding, until they reached his suite. The door clicked shut behind them, and the atmosphere changed again, becoming heavier, charged with unspoken intentions.

“Drink?” Henry asked, moving toward the mini bar, his movements fluid and graceful.

“Sure,” Tom replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Henry handed him a glass of whiskey, his fingers brushing against Tom’s in a fleeting yet electric touch. They sat on the plush couch, the tension between them simmering, ready to boil over. Henry’s knee brushed against Tom’s, a deliberate move that sent a jolt of electricity through him.

“You’re nervous,” Henry observed, his voice low and husky. “Why? I thought we were having a good time.”

Tom laughed nervously, taking a sip of his drink. “It’s not every day you get stuck in an elevator with Superman.”

Henry chuckled, shaking his head. “Ah, I see. My reputation precedes me.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against Tom’s ear. “Let me show you that I’m much more than just a superhero on film.”

And then, without warning, Henry kissed him. It wasn’t a gentle peck; it was a full-on, devour-you-alive kiss that left no room for doubt. Tom’s glass tumbled from his hand as he responded instinctively, his hands gripping Henry’s shoulders for dear life. The actor’s lips were firm yet pliant, his tongue sliding against Tom’s in a sensuous dance that made his head spin.

As the kiss deepened, Tom became aware of something strange. Henry’s face felt… off. It wasn’t unpleasant, but there was a slight give, a flexibility that didn’t quite align with how human skin should feel. Tom pulled back slightly, his curiosity piqued. “Your face… it feels different.”

Henry’s eyes flashed with something unreadable, but his smile remained. “Does it now? Interesting.” He leaned in for another kiss, more intense this time, his hands roaming over Tom’s body with a possessiveness that bordered on aggressive. Tom’s own hands couldn’t resist exploring, sliding across Henry’s broad shoulders, down his sculpted back.

But then, as their bodies pressed closer, sweat forming between them, Tom felt it again—that odd shift in Henry’s face. His cheeks seemed to change shape ever so slightly, almost as if they were moving independently. Curiosity, mingled with arousal, grew too strong to ignore.

Tom broke the kiss, his fingers tracing the edges of Henry’s face. “What’s going on here?”

Henry’s breath hitched, his chest heaving. “You’re very observant, aren’t you?”

Tom’s fingers found Henry’s nose, and to his astonishment, it moved slightly under his touch, as if made of some kind of flexible material. He pulled gently, and the skin lifted, revealing a faint seam. With a gasp, Tom pulled harder, and Henry moaned softly, his body tensing. “Fuck,” Henry muttered, his voice rough. “Don’t stop.”

Encouraged, Tom moved to Henry’s ears, tugging experimentally. They shifted too, yielding to his touch. The entire face seemed to be composed of something far from human, yet so lifelike it was uncanny. Tom’s heart pounded wildly as he gripped a handful of Henry’s hair and pulled upward. His eyes seemed to sing down in his face and the eyeholes were stretched. He pulled harder and Henry was not resisting. He was rubbing his groin region and moaned loudly. So Tom continued to pull and moved the obvious mask to both side to pull it free. The wet slurping sound now was unmistakable as the mask peeled away slowly, revealing a sweaty man entirely different from the Hollywood icon. He had short blonde hair and short stubbles as a beard.

Tom’s breath caught in his throat. The man before him was handsome, yes, but entirely different from the towering, chiseled figure of Henry Cavill. His chest heaved with labored breaths, and his blue eyes locked onto Tom’s with a mixture of vulnerability and raw desire. Drenched in sweat, his skin glistened under the soft hotel room lights, and his arousal was evident—his cock straining against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

“You’re not Henry,” Tom said, his voice low and barely more than a whisper. The words felt surreal, as if he were narrating someone else’s dream.

The man gave a wry smile, his hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from his brow. “No,” he admitted, his voice smooth but less commanding than Henry’s. “I’m Steven. And you just almost ripped my very expensive mask.” He chuckled nervously, though there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze. “Please don’t scream or call security. I promise I’m not dangerous.”

Tom stared at him, processing the situation. Steven’s voice now sounded completely different. His heart was still pounding, but it wasn’t out of fear. No, it was something else—something primal and intoxicating. The revelation that this entire encounter had been a facade only heightened the intensity of the moment. He glanced down at the mask in his hands, now slick with sweat and a little makeup, and then back up at Steven. His curiosity was insatiable.

“Why?” Tom asked, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside him. “Why do you impersonate people like that?”

Steven shrugged, running a hand through his slightly wavy brown hair. “It’s my job. Sometimes celebrities can’t make appearances, so they hire me to step in. I’ve got a talent for mimicry, and… well, I guess I enjoy playing dress-up. It’s fun to be someone else for a while.” His lips quirked into a sheepish grin, but his eyes remained focused on Tom. “But I didn’t expect this. I mean, I wasn’t planning to… you know. Pull off the mask mid-seduction.”

Tom’s lips twitched into a smile, and he found himself oddly fascinated by Steven’s openness. “So, you’re saying you weren’t planning to let me see the real you?”

Steven shook his head, his breathing steadying. “Not unless things got… really serious. Which, honestly, I didn’t think would happen tonight. But here we are.” He paused, his expression softening. “And now you know. So, what happens next? Are you going to tell everyone? Or…” He trailed off, his body language becoming guarded.

Tom recognized something and moved closer, his fingers brushing against the edge of Steven’s neck. There was now a small edge like he was wearing a skin over his skin. Before this edge was somehow fused to the neck part of the mask. It was warm and damp, imbued with the scent of their shared excitement. “Or what?” he asked, his tone teasing.

Steven’s eyes darkened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against Tom’s ear. “Or maybe you want to keep this our little secret. Maybe you’d like to… explore this further.” His hand snaked around Tom’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Despite the absence of Henry’s exaggerated muscles, Steven’s own physique was solid and appealing, and Tom couldn’t help but respond to the invitation.

“Explore how?” Tom murmured, his lips brushing against Steven’s neck as he spoke. He pressed his lips to the edge and discovered it with his tongue.

Steven groaned softly, his grip tightening. “Like this,” he said, his voice thick with urgency. With one swift motion, he grabbed the hem of Tom’s shirt and yanked it over his head, tossing it aside. Tom’s lean, athletic frame was revealed, and Steven’s hands roamed over his chest, mapping every inch with deliberate attention. “You’re beautiful,” Steven breathed, his fingertips tracing the outline of Tom’s nipples, causing them to tighten beneath his touch.

Tom shivered, his body responding instinctively to Steven’s ministrations. He hadn’t expected this level of intimacy after such a bizarre revelation, but there was no denying the electric tension between them. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he replied, his voice laced with amusement and desire.

Steven grinned, his confidence returning as he began to kiss and nibble at Tom’s collarbone. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” he teased, his hands sliding lower to cup Tom’s ass. Toms hand wandered up to Steven’s neck and he pressed a finger inside the gab at his neck. Steven was wearing a kind of skinlike suit obviously. So his muscle were also fake. With new excitement and recurrent erection he presses his whole hand inside this gap. Steven let out an intensive moan and a shiver runs down to Tom’s spine. It felt incredible wet and warm underneath. It felt like intruding into Steven’s body. Steven opened his eyes. *Now, about that muscle suit…”

Tom’s pulse quickened as Steven squeezed his cheeks appreciatively, and he felt a surge of anticipation. “What about you wearing it now?* he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

Tom nodded absently, Stevens eyes gleaming with mischief. “And the mask too. I think you’d make a great Henry Cavill.”

Tom hesitated for a moment, then laughed under his breath. “God, I must be insane,” he muttered, but there was no real doubt in his mind. The idea of stepping into the role of the Hollywood hunk was intoxicating, and the thought of wearing that mask—this time over his own face—was almost too thrilling to resist.

Without another word, Tom knelt down and began unzipping the muscle suit at Steven’s back, after Steven had shown him the hidden zipper. Steven had to get rid of his trousers and shorts. The material of the suit was sticky with sweat, and the faint chemical smell of latex mingled with their musky scents. Carefully, he peeled the suit away from Steven’s body, revealing the man’s true form underneath. The suit was torso and legs with areas exposing his real penis and butthole. Steven wasn’t as muscular as Henry’s image had suggested, but his physique was still impressive, and Tom couldn’t help but admire the way his toned muscles flexed as he moved.

Once the suit was fully removed, Tom stood and held it up, inspecting it closely. The craftsmanship was extraordinary, and he marveled at the way the contours of the muscles had been perfectly replicated. “This is incredible,” he said, his voice filled with awe.

Steven smirked, leaning back against the couch. “Glad you approve. Now, why don’t you try it on?”

Tom nodded, his excitement growing as he stripped out of his remaining clothes. Naked, he stepped into the muscle suit, feeling its snug fit as he pulled it up his legs and over his torso. He only struggled a little with his erected penis. The material clung to his skin, and he could feel the residual warmth of Steven’s body within it. The remaining sweat helped him to pull up the suit. When he reached the zipper at the back, Steven stepped forward to assist, fastening it securely behind him. He felt like becoming part of Steven at this moment.

Next came the mask. Tom picked it up, its silicone surface cool to the touch, and positioned it over his own face. As he smoothed it into place, the familiar slide slurping sound when adjusting it echoed in the room, and soon his features were completely concealed. The transformation was complete, and Tom couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. He watched himself in the near mirror and his erection was still strong, coming out of a sheet in the suit.

When he looked up, Steven’s eyes were wide with admiration. “Damn,” Steven muttered, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. “You’re perfect.”

Tom smiled, his new features shifting easily under his control. He felt the residing warmth and the sweat of Steven around him. It felt all his senses. It was like being completely absorbed by this strange man. “So, what now?” he asked, his voice altered slightly by the mask’s design.

Steven’s grin was predatory as he stepped closer, his hands reaching out to caress the newly enhanced muscles of Tom’s chest. “Now,” he said, his voice low and husky, “we fuck.”

Steven’s hands roamed over Tom’s chest, his fingers tracing the contours of the muscle suit. The material was smooth but clingy, accentuating every defined line and curve that Tom’s body now possessed. Steven’s touch was electric, sending shivers down Tom’s spine despite the mask hiding his expression. The heat between them was palpable, a tangible force that seemed to fill the room.

“You feel incredible,” Steven murmured, his voice low and filled with admiration. His eyes locked onto Tom’s, studying the way the mask transformed his features into those of Henry Cavill. The illusion was stunning, and Steven couldn’t help but marvel at how seamlessly Tom had slipped into the role.

Tom smirked, feeling the confidence surge through him as he flexed his enhanced muscles. “You like what you see?” he asked, his voice slightly distorted by the mask but still carrying that unmistakable air of authority.

Steven chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made Tom’s heart race. “Oh, I like it all right,” he replied, his hands moving lower, sliding over the tight fabric of the suit to grip Tom’s ass. He squeezed firmly, eliciting a groan from Tom, who leaned into the touch.

“Fuck,” Tom muttered, his breath quickening as Steven’s hands continued their exploration. The sensation of being touched through the suit was thrilling, making him feel powerful and desired in a way he never had before. He could feel the sweat starting to form underneath the suit, mixing with the residual warmth of Steven’s own perspiration.

Steven’s lips curled into a wicked smile as he stepped back, pulling Tom with him. “Let’s move this to the bed,” he suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Tom nodded eagerly, following Steven across the room to the large bed that dominated the space. The mattress was soft and inviting, and Tom couldn’t wait to sink into it. As they reached the bed, Steven pushed Tom gently backward, guiding him down onto the surface.

Tom fell back onto the mattress, his enhanced body landing with a soft thud. The muscle suit felt even tighter now, constricting his movements slightly but adding to the thrill of the moment. Steven climbed onto the bed after him, straddling Tom’s legs and leaning down to kiss him passionately. With his tongue he discovered all the little holes in the mask and slides with it under the mask tasting the mixed sweat of both guys.

The kiss was extremely intense, Steven’s lips pressing repeatedly hard against Tom’s masked face. The material of the mask muffled the sensation somewhat, but the heat and pressure were undeniable. Tom moaned into the kiss, his hands reaching up to grip Steven’s shoulders. Steven bit into the lips of the mask and pulled a little until letting it snap back in place with a smacking sound.

Steven broke the kiss, pulling back slightly to look down at Tom. “You ready for this?” he asked, his voice dripping with lust.

Tom nodded, his breathing heavy as he looked up at Steven. “Fuck yes,” he replied, his voice filled with determination.

With that, Steven moved, positioning himself between Tom’s legs and lining himself up with Tom’s erection. The muscle suit was tight, but there was a gap between his butt cheeks where Steven couldn’t make room for himself. He spit in his hands and wipes it around Toms hole. He pressed forward, entering Tom slowly but surely, reveling in the tightness and heat that surrounded him.

Tom groaned loudly, the sensation overwhelming him. The muscle suit added an extra layer of intensity, making every movement more pronounced and exciting. He could feel Steven’s cock inside him, filling him up completely, and it was everything he had hoped for.

Steven began to move, thrusting in and out of Tom with slow, deliberate strokes. Each movement was calculated, designed to maximize the pleasure for both of them. Tom’s hands clenched tightly around Steven’s waist, holding on as the sensations built inside him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Steven muttered, his voice strained with effort. His hips snapped forward with each thrust, driving deeper into Tom with every movement. He grabbed Tom’s artificial chest with both hands, massaged it and pulling strongly at the suit so that Tom was lifted even a little.

Tom’s head lolled back against the pillows, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The mask was starting to feel restrictive, the heat and humidity building up inside it making it somehow difficult to breathe. But he didn’t care; the pleasure was too great, too overwhelming to worry about anything else.

Steven’s pace quickened, his thrusts growing faster and harder as he neared his climax. Tom could feel the tension building in Steven’s body, the way his muscles tensed and relaxed with each movement. It was exhilarating, knowing that he was the one driving Steven to this point.

“Almost there,” Steven growled, his voice low and guttural. His hips slammed into Tom’s with brutal force, the impact reverberating through both of their bodies.

Tom’s own orgasm was close, the pressure building in his groin as Steven continued to pound into him. He could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, waiting for the release that would send him over the edge.

“Come on,” Steven urged, his voice sharp and commanding. “Give it to me.” With saying this he bent forward and grabbed the hair of the mask. He pulled hard upward without caring to destroy the mask. The entire face seemed to stretch unlimited just hold by Tom’s chin. The eyeholes just showed empty spots. Tom’s heart pounded wildly. The slurping sound was strong as the mask peeled away like a wip, revealing the sweaty face which showed pure extasy.

Those impressions were enough to push Tom over the edge. With a loud cry, he came, his body convulsing around Steven’s cock as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. The sensation was indescribable, pure ecstasy coursing through his veins as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.

Steven followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard as he buried himself deep inside Tom. He groaned loudly, his body trembling as he emptied himself into Tom, the sensation of release almost too much to bear.

They lay together for a moment, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow of their passion. The room was silent except for the sound of their heavy breathing, the air thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

Finally, Steven pulled out of Tom, sitting back on the bed and looking down at him. “Damn,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “That was… something else.”

Tom grinned, touching his own muscular body. “Yeah,” he agreed, his voice still slightly breathless. “It really was.”

Steven leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of Tom’s head. “You did good,” he said, his tone warm and affectionate. “Very good.”

Tom smiled, feeling a sense of pride wash over him. He had taken on the role of Henry Cavill and had done it well, giving Steven the experience of a lifetime. It was a surreal feeling, one that he knew he would never forget.

Steven stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright,” he said, his voice light and cheerful. “Let’s get you out of that suit.”

Tom nodded, sitting up and preparing himself for the process of stripping off the muscle suit. As Steven helped him out of the suit, Tom couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of losing the persona he had just inhabited. It had been exhilarating, stepping into someone else’s shoes and experiencing life from a different perspective.

But as Steven peeled the muscle suit off him, exposing his own body once again, Tom realized that the experience wasn’t over. He grabbed the mask and kissed the empty mouth gently entering his tongue into it. There were more masks, more suits, more opportunities to explore and transform. And with Steven by his side, he knew that the possibilities were endless.

to be continued…

#skinsuit #mask #unmasking #gay roleplay #gay #penetrative sex #stolen identity #muscle suit #muscle

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myteavsricochet · 1 year ago

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Favorite firstprince fanfics, an incomplete list:

One shots:

All the Stars We Steal From the Night Sky :

Alex is quiet, and something is wrong.

Or, Alex struggles with emotions and Henry is there to help.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Basically Just Them Being Soft, Alex is struggling, Henry helps)

In His Wildest Dreams

Set in and around the Henry bonus chapter, this is a story about Henry and Alex’s hectic schedules, family appearances etc. Pulling them apart, and about what starts to happen between them, in the quiet of night: their sleeping bodies turning to each other, finding their sweet spots and opening up. And Alex and Henry learning a lot about each other in the process.

(Please, look at the tags carefully, this fic is very soft, very hot and very consensual but may not be for everyone: Consensual somnophilia, Kink exploration, Porn with feelings, Smut)

5 times Alex called Henry baby ‘casually’ and 1 time it was (definitely) because of love

How did “baby” become a thing in the film universe? When did it become a thing in the film universe? Fine, I’ll answer these questions myself.

(Additional Tags: Overuse of the word "baby", Pet Names, Fluff, Angst, 5+1 Things, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Sex, Mild Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort)

Who could ever leave me darling, but who could stay?

Alex has always been too much. Objectively, he knows this. He talks too much, his volume is too much, and the fire under his ass is too much. So, when he’d met Henry, when he hadn’t cared about Henry’s opinion and had been his real, authentic, annoying self, and Henry had liked him anyway? It was something Alex struggled to wrap his head around. It started in kindergarten.

Or: A look at Alex's childhood and how hard it is always being the too-much person in any given room.

(Additional Tags: Pre-Canon, Post-Canon, Childhood, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, So much comfort)

Déjame Ver Cómo Es Que Floreces

Oscar gets in close and bluntly asks, “Earlier. In the bathroom. Did you do it?”

Alex scoffs, “No. Don't be a perv. Why would you wanna know that anyway?”

Oscar rolls his eyes. “Mind out of the gutter, chamaco. Did you propose?”

Ah.

Henry is introduced to the extended Diaz side of the family at their matriarch's birthday. Shenanigans (and romance and feelings) ensue.

(This fic is absolutely amazing ❤️

Additional Tags: Humor, Fluff, Family Fluff, Pre-Engagement, Mexican-American Culture, Mexican OC's galore, Drinking, Family Bonding, Karaoke, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Alex Claremont-Diaz Speaks Spanish)

Forty-Four Days

"God, I haven't seen you in forty-four days," Alex suddenly spits, and Henry feels the pain of his words in his own chest, like ice replacing the blood in his veins. Because that's it, isn't it? Forty-four days of separation. Forty-four days of waking up to an empty bed, of making coffee along with his tea only to realize that Alex isn't there to drink it, of long meetings without any of Alex's witty jokes, of cold hands on chilly autumn walks because Alex isn't there to warm them up.

Maybe it's the simple fact of hearing for the first time, or maybe it's the tipping point of the taxing day, but Henry feels something inside of him snap, and —

And all he knows is that he needs to see Alex now.

(Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Separations, Separation Anxiety, Late Night Conversations, Minor Character Death, but it's nothing to worry about I PROMISE, Reunions, Kissing, Literal Sleeping Together, Mild Sexual Content, they love and miss each other, that's the plot, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

A Mind That Never Sleeps

Five times Alex stays awake with Henry, and the one time he coaxes him back to sleep.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Insomnia, Sleepless nights, Piano, Weddings, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, that's really all this is, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

talk too much

Alex has his wisdom teeth removed and Henry takes care of him, fluff ensues

(Additional Tags: wisdom teeth removal, not bloody or graphic, just fluff, pure fluff, No Angst, Henry Pov, firstprince, living in the brownstone, FLUFF I TELL YOU, Henry taking care of Alex, and Alex taking care of Henry too hehe, You’ll see)

silk and steel

Thanks to a welcome day off, Henry and Alex spend a lazy morning in bed. Soft, mid-morning cuddles escalate into semi-soft, mid-morning sex.

(Addictional tags: Morning cuddles, Morning sex, Body worship, Light dom/sub, Praise kink, Established relationship, Top Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Bottom Alex Claremont Diaz)

I don't wanna dance, if I'm not dancing with you

"You want me at a ball?"

"I want you with me as often as possible," Henry says, immediately, as if it's obvious. Maybe it is. "But yes, it would be nice to have you there. I'm not necessarily actively trying to anger my grandmother, which you being there might, but... Well, she hasn't exactly extended an invitation but I have just as much right as anyone to bring a date and--"

"Baby." Henry's rambling stops short on what nearly sounds like a gasp, and Alex grins to himself. Sometimes, his boyfriend is too easy. "Do you want me there?"

"Yes."

"Then I'll be there."

----

or, Henry wants Alex at a ball and Alex is anxious about it.

(Additional Tags: Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Ballroom Dancing, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Hurt/Comfort)

If You Hold Me Without Hurting Me, You’ll Be the First Who Ever Did

Henry feels himself aching for Alex—this Alex, the one who’s at home in Texas, the one who’s vulnerable and free—and he sees the ache reflected in Alex’s eyes.

The first night they spend at the lake house, before Alex wakes up with Henry's swimsuit tangled around his elbow.

(Additional Tags: Emotions, Anal Sex, Bottom Henry, alex calling henry baby, henry calling alex love, Boys In Love, Porn with Feelings, Henry Pov, so it's a wee bit angsty)

love dares you, to change our way of caring about ourselves

Henry has read it all: fairy-tales of princes and their courters, unsung histories of kings and their secret lovers, and he has read all their happy endings. But he is not a prince in a fairy-tale, and he has always thought his own secret love story was likelier to end in tragedy.

Perhaps it’s time that changed.

(Or, Henry’s POV the morning after The Great Claremont-Diaz Ambush at Kensington Palace)

Let Me Hold Your Head in My Hands

Alex has a migraine.

Henry takes care of him.

(Additional Tags: Sickfic, Sick Character, Boys In Love, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Idiots in Love, Headaches & Migraines, Tooth-Rotting Fluff,Domestic Fluff, Bathtubs)

you would not believe your eyes (if ten million fireflies)

Alex and Henry are staying at Alex’s house in Texas. Henry has never seen fireflies before, and Alex can’t let him get away without the experience of catching one.

Or,

Alex is helplessly in love with Henry.

(Additional Tags: Fluff, Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Summer, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, firefly catching, Fireflies, Lightning bugs, Texas)

Promises, Promises.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes again.

The corner of Henry’s mouth does the thing it does. His walls are back up.

“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” he mutters, before turning on his heel and marching down the hall.

——

Alex has never felt so horrible. And 3 days is a long time.

(Additional Tags: Fluff and Angst, Heavy Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Arguing, Fights, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Loves Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Stressed Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, Anxiety, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Abandonment Issues, Leaving Home)

The Red Side Goes Up

Henry brings home a little something new to try in the bedroom. Or: The One Where Alex Gets Jealous of a Butt Plug.

(Additional Tags: Smut, Rimming, Sex Toys, Anal Sex, Butt Plugs, Post-Canon)

(all of me changed like) midnight rain

“They’re fighting again,” he whispers instead. Henry’s eyes are sad.

“I know, love.”

Or, 5 times Alex believes his relationship with Henry won't last, and 1 time he knows it will.

Or, 5 times Alex doesn't believe in love because of his parents and 1 time Henry proves him wrong.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Established Relationship, Breaking Up & Making Up, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Divorce, Canonical Divorce, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Song: Midnight Rain (Taylor Swift), Depression, References to Depression)

We'll Get Together Then

5+1 times Oscar was a good dad to Henry (ft. Abuelo Oscar)

(Additional Tags: Henry and Oscar bonding, 5+1 Things, I have Feelings about their relationship, Arthur's death is mentioned)

The Bet

Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault.

Or, the time Henry and Alex bet on who can last the longest without sex.

(Additional Tags: Bets & Wagers, No sex bet, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but it gets resolved eventually, Wet Dream, Eventual Smut, Eventual Sex, Porn With Plot, like it kind of has a plot, Mostly just porn though, Kissing, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Riding, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Switching, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant)

What Kind of Day Has It Been

Even after thirty-odd years of being together (twenty-five of those married) Henry still has to drag Alex away from his desk and up to bed. Even just a few days after routine surgery Alex can't help himself.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Boys In Love, Kissing, Married Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor)

take a bite, babe

And, well, Henry can no longer lie to himself. He couldn’t be more in love with Alex if he tried.

Or: five moments Henry notices Alex’s eyelashes (and falls a little more in love).

I miss you, i'm sorry

"I—I’m killing myself trying to make this work, trying to make both you and my family happy, living on planes, and it’s still not enough for you? I don’t know what else to do.”

“Well, I’m sorry it’s so hard for you to be with me,” Alex says bitterly, wiping furiously at his eyes and refusing to meet Henry’s.

"Alex—"

“No,” Alex interrupts angrily, “get it off your chest! I can’t wait to hear all about how much work I am to be with. You know what, if you’re just gonna leave me again then you might as well go ahead and do it now. Save us both the hurt.”

Or: the fight.

(Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Fighting, Healthy Relationships, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has Abandonment Issues, Comfort, Healthy Conflict Resolution, Conflict Resolution)

Too Much

Okay, so maybe Alex talked too much for them. It was fine. He could still sit with them at lunch, he just had to make sure not to talk so much. Just listen to them. He could do that.

The next day, and the day after, Alex sat with the same group of kids. Only, he no longer went on rants about movies or books or what he saw on the news that morning or what his parents talked/argued over at dinner.

Alex stayed silent, desperate to not be too much.

***

OR 5 times the people in Alex's life thought that he was too much + one time Henry assured him that he wasn't.

(Additional Tags: 5+1 Things, Hurt/Comfort, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Author Projecting, author's first fic)

the common tongue of you loving me

Where did kissing come from? Henry has always wondered. Why kisses? At the beginning of history, which long forgotten person, which ancestor of all mankind, was the first to press their lips to another’s in a declaration of their love?

Was it a lover, perhaps, so consumed with devotion that they sought to use lips as well as fingertips? All followed the base urge of their bodies — the innate knowledge that the pressing of lips was the highest form of touch. But no one knows why.

Except when Alex quirks his cupid’s bow, licks into Henry’s mouth and lets his bottom lip rest on Henry’s, and oh. Henry knows.

(Additional Tags: Kissing, henry has so many feelings about kissing, Explicit Sexual Content, Grinding, Frottage)

All Your Closets Of Backlogged Dreams

It’s not that the loss of the President’s oldest child is a secret. It’s just that nobody talks much about the death of Catalina June Claremont-Diaz.

It takes Alex years before he talks to Henry about her.

(The painful story no one asked for that ties June into the movie.)

(Additional Tags: Past Character Death, Canon - Book & Movie Combination, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Alex Claremont-Diaz Has ADHD)

i'm so in love (i might stop breathing)

He looks so fucking gorgeous like this, eyes half-lidded as he looks at Alex. He rests his head on Alex's chest, tightening his arms. Alex can see the tips of his ears turning pink.

"It's ! H G E J F M W C D 2 4 !" he mumbles in embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of Alex's neck again. A beat of silence.

Then, almost shouting in joy, Alex yells, "Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor- Claremont-Diaz! That's your fucking password?"

"Shut up!" Henry hisses and Alex feels so many butterflies in his stomach that he's going to throw himself off of a cliff. Really, teenage girls with celebrity crushes have nothing on him at this moment.

or,

Henry is drunk and Alex is so in love he could die.

(being with you) makes the flame burn good

“Ah, would you look at that,” Alex says hoarsely, breaking the kiss, “Looks like you got a bit of batter on your neck.”

He lowers his head and licks a stripe up Henry's neck until his tongue reaches the spot below his ear and Henry shudders slightly in his arms.

“Tastes so good, baby,” Alex teases and fits his thigh between Henry's legs, feeling how hard he is and how immediately he grinds against Alex's body, searching for any form of relief.

“Oh, piss off,” Henry breathes and tangles his hands in Alex's curls, fisting his hand lightly and moving his hips a little faster.

(Additional Tags: Married Alex Claremont-Diaz and Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Kitchen Sex, Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Laughter During Sex, Body Worship, Sort Of, Hickeys, Begging, Praise Kink, Nipple Play, surprisingly there's NO food play in this, Dom Alex, Sub Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor)

we thought we ruled the world

Alex stares down at his latest text from Henry. A link to an article he’s seen about ten versions of so far. He’s managed to resist clicking on any of them, but now Henry is sending it, so he supposes he should at least give it a skim.

How Prince Henry’s Relationship With FSOTUS Lost Ellen Claremont The Election

............

Or, what would have happened if Ellen lost.

(Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, mostly happy at least)

pictures of you

Henry has seen photos of Alex before, of Alex’s easy grin and disarming smirk, wild curls awry and lean muscles on casually stretched biceps. He’s seen countless photos of him before.

But.

Alex has never sent him a photo before. Not like this.

---

Five times Alex sends Henry a selfie from bed (+ one time Henry sends him one)

the dresden dilemma

The Crown had expectations when it sent a member of the royal family abroad but after a handful of years navigating said expectations, Alex and Henry had become adept at circumventing them when possible. Like tonight: They were supposed to be in Berlin for the weekend, but after a bit of needling and a lot of promises to behave, Alex had convinced Shaan to arrange for them to spend at least one night outside of the city.

Dresden, Alex had argued, was close enough to Berlin that they weren't really disobeying the Crown and besides, what harm could a single night in Dresden do?

(Additional Tags: Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Loves Alex Claremont-Diaz, Established Relationship, Alex Claremont-Diaz has Trauma, cause he's an american kid and who doesn't, or at least he thought, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Fireworks, School Shootings, implied/referenced anyway, Guns)

the clementine thing

And, really, it doesn’t matter whether or not Alex explains it to Liam and the rest of his friends. They’ve never really discussed it between themselves through the years. Slowly, Alex had gone from asking Would you please peel this for me? to Please? to silently extending the citrus without any comment at all, just a soft smile. It’s one of the things that make them Alex-and-Henry; the silent conversations and the contentment in each other’s company.

Now, as Alex starts to flourish through his position on the lacrosse team, his slew of AP classes, and his role in student government, getting him to slow down at all is a feat. The only way that Henry can do it, guaranteed, is by one of those innocuous little fruits. There’s nothing Alex can’t do—surely, he could peel a fucking orange if he felt so inclined—but Henry delights in being able to do this for him.

Five times Henry shares a clementine with Alex, and one time Alex returns the favor

(This is one of my favorites, please read this ❤️)

In the Low Lamp Light, I Was Free

“You wanna go again?” Alex asks, pressing the back of his head into the pillows, offering his throat more fully to Henry’s hungry mouth, and when Henry laughs and retrieves another condom and the little bottle of lube from his toiletry bag, he adds, “I had a thought, though. I thought, maybe… you could be inside me this time.”

(Movieverse; there were two condom wrappers on the floor in Paris.)

he is exactly the poem i wanted to write

There is no Turkey in Alex's room this year, but there is a prince.

AKA, Henry spends thanksgiving with Alex after the election and reflects on all of his dreams coming true.

(Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Oral Sex, Anal Fingering, so fluffy it borders on worshippy, Porn with Feelings)

we might fall

A little ficlet of Alex and Henry in the hammock. Metaphors about falling.

lifeline of mine

Henry hates hospitals, has hated them since he watched his father wither away in one that smelled just like this one, that had the same unsettling chill in the air. And every time he walked into a hospital after losing Arthur, he would see his father’s ashen face, would feel the ghost of his cold skin prickling his own, would hear the slowing beep of his heart monitor. And now, it’s Henry in a hospital bed, not knowing what’s wrong with his body. And he’s scared, and he’s thinking about Arthur and…

“I saw him,” Henry whispers.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Major Character Injury, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hallucinations, Hospitals, Hospitalization, Hurt Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Worried Alex Claremont-Diaz, Sick Character, Sick Fic, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Forehead Kisses, Fever, Angst with a Happy Ending)

please don't ever become a stranger (whose laugh i could recognize anywhere)

Alex’s love language is physical touch.

Henry knows this—has known it from the first moment he’s met Alex, all wild curls and bright eyes and a smile that could breathe life into Henry’s little, fragile hife. He’d stuck out a hand at that first meeting, dejected when Henry didn’t even take it. Found a way to poke and prod Henry every single time they’d met after, sharp jabs hitting his shoulder and rough hits shoving him around.

Now, Alex’s fingers are gentle as they lace around his. His arms hold him tight to his chest. His hair tickles the nape of Henry’s neck, and the couch is entirely too small for the two of them but Henry doesn’t have the heart to kick him out.

Or, 5 times Alex clings tight to Henry and 1 time Henry finds out why.

Bear with me

The first time it happened, Henry was not having it.

“For the last time, I’m not helping you shave your arse.”

—

In which Alex is very hairy, and Henry sort of has a thing for it. Not that he'd admit it, though.

(Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Post-Canon, Canon - Book, But can fit the movie verse too, tzp is a walking thirst trap, this was supposed to be crack but became quite serious real quick, Domestic Fluff, Mentions of Sex, No Smut, Body Hair Appreciation, Healthy Relationships)

i ask you how you’re doing (and i let you lie)

The first time Henry sees it happen, he knows instantly that it is not the first time it has ever happened. They’re sitting in the living room of the brownstone, the two of them surrounded by their favorite people in the world, a night of board games long abandoned in favor of mocking the eighth season of Game of Thrones.

“God, don’t you have an off switch?” June groans, laughing as she chucks a piece of popcorn in Alex’s direction while he rambles passionately about the international legal implications of the Red Wedding. Nora cackles. “Whatever you do to thank Henry for putting up with you, it’s not nearly enough. Jesus, I can’t believe he put a ring on your loud mouth.”

Or: Alex is fine. Really, he’s fine — he just wants Henry to stay, even if Alex is too much. Henry just wants his husband back.

but i'd put you first a million times over

Henry first noticed it shortly after the Waterloo incident. Apparently, it hadn’t been enough to thrust all their private thoughts and emails into the public eye; they had to be thrust into the limelight as well.

Or the 5 times Henry asked the Crown for better security, plus one time he no longer had to.

(Additional Tags: Protective Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Paparazzi, Hurt/Comfort, 5+1 Things, Hurt Alex Claremont-Diaz, Post-Canon)

in every scenario

Henry can practically hear Alex thinking. They’re curled up in bed, Alex’s head resting on his chest, and his mind is so loud. He can hear it in the rustling of the sheets, in Alex’s hand skating up his ribcage; the anxious curl of his toes against Henry’s ankles. He’s nearly vibrating with thought.

Henry’s hand tucks into the base of Alex’s spine. “Love,” he murmurs, ducking his chin to look down at his boyfriend. “What on earth are you thinking about?”

Or, Alex has something important on his mind.

Long fics:

all that glitters (is not gold)

Alex Claremont-Diaz has it all. His mom won the election, he’s got the perfect boyfriend. He gets to love Henry out loud. Everything is great. Perfect.

Except for the itch under his skin every time he goes outside, and the tightness in his chest when he goes online, and the fact that he can’t fucking sleep.

But it's fine. He's fine. Really.

—-

Or: after the emails, Alex Claremont-Diaz isn’t fine.

(The masterpiece. The firstprince sequel. The canon sequel.)

But I love him, whether or no.

Henry moves to New York City to help Pez with the opening of his new bar in the East Village. The location—fortunately for business, but unfortunately for Henry’s sanity—is directly across the street from a fire station. The sound of sirens is bad, Alex the gorgeous firefighter is worse. But when Alex helps Henry avoid a near catastrophe the night of the bar’s opening, the two form a tentative friendship that starts to develop into something more.

(Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Firefighter!Alex, Canon typical mental health issues for Henry, Canon typical struggles with grief for Henry, Canon typical child of divorce issues for Alex, Canon typical struggles with sexuality for Alex, Firefighter injuries, Hospitalization, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending)

the poem you make of me

After being discovered on Instagram as a teenager, Alex Diaz is thriving as a social media influencer and model who just landed a high profile, high fashion contract with Calvin Klein. Alex can get any girl he wants, and he’s loving it. Meanwhile, British poet Henry Fox has just arrived in L.A. to kick off a North American tour promoting his new, steamy book of gay erotic poetry, and he’s attracting a lot of attention.

Bad blood is immediately sparked between them when Henry blows Alex off at their first meeting. Several tabloid rumors and an Instagram tantrum later, Alex and Henry are reluctantly thrust together to make nice, resulting in a grudging friendship and a magnetism between them that Alex can't explain. Why is Henry's poetry making Alex feel like this? And just what is it about Henry Fox that gets to him so much?

God Save the Blessed American President Mom

["June stopped by at lunch; she showed me a delightful channel called Hallmark, which repeats the same story every hour after they swap one round of white, straight, small-town conventionally beautiful actors for another. It was entertaining.”

“June and I used to play a drinking game with those. Take a shot every time someone goes ice skating, sledding, or leaves the big city for their tiny hometown.”

“Good lord, you must’ve been sloshed in the first ten minutes.”]

***

On December 4, 2021, an attempt is made on President Ellen Claremont's life.

Alex gets shot instead.

How wonderful life is (while you're in the world)

The corner of Henry’s mouth. It’s disappeared now, covered by the oxygen mask fixed securely around his head, but if Alex concentrates hard enough, he can see it sprawled out in front of him. Every ridge, every bend and edge and turn of it.

He knows Henry’s heart. And that’ll be enough.

(or: the one where henry gets shot and alex is a goddamn mess.)

#it's been 84 years #but i did it #this is the longest post I've ever made #please don't ignore it #rwrb #red white and royal blue #firstprince fanfic #firstprince fic #rwrb fic #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

276 notes · View notes

siampie · 6 months ago

Text

Risk and Reward||Chapter 9: Like Real People Do

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Just fluffy moments between you and Matt.

Warnings/tags: lots of fluff and a hint of angst.

A/N: Sorry for the late update, life had been hectic lately. And also been dealing with some face pain due to a wisdom tooth. Commentaries and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

Masterlist || join my taglist

Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie; @sunflowersandsapphires; @abbyhaslongshorts; @schneeflocky; @danzer8705;

@ebathory997; @sarraa-26; @cheshirecat484; @rebeccapineapple; @msjb2002

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

I had a thought, dear, however scary

About that night, the bugs and the dirt

Why were you digging? What did you bury

Before those hands pulled me from the earth?

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask and neither should you

Honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

The soft music filled your apartment while you hummed, swaying lightly, to the song. Enjoying one of those rare moments where you felt in the mood to cook a full meal for yourself. The pan singing as the freshly cut vegetables were frying in the hot oil. You added the broccoli to the stir-fry you were cooking, your eyes caught sight of the numerous drawings on your fridge. They had been made with love by your nieces and nephews. Your goddaughter, now 6, were also learning how to write now. So, of course, some of drawings were now accompanied with love notes.

“Je t’aime, Marraine.” (I love you, Godmother.)

The words were misspelled, and she still needed to get a grasp on grammar. But every time you read the words; you felt your heart swell with love. And the few times she came to visit you, she was proud to see her pictures on your fridge. And she and her siblings, and her cousin, drew more of those stick figure, knowing their arts would find room on your fridge and walls.

The shrill sound of your ringtone pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Ah, you’ve reached the procrastination hotline. Please hold…indefinitely.” You answered the call.

“How many of those do you have?” Your sister’s voice came from the other end of the line.

“As many as I need.” You shot back. “So, what’s up?”

“I need to vent,” she declared.

“About?”

“Our brother; Henry.” She dramatically sighed.

“I’m listening,” you puffed out a long breath.

“So, you know how he decided to let mom have access to his kids,” she started. You hummed, “well, now, his in-laws are getting involved and asking me, why don’t I want mom anywhere near my boy?”

“How is that any of their concerns? It’s your kid, you get to decide who’s in his life or not. Why are they getting involved?” You asked quite angrily, you never liked your brother’s in-laws. They were quite nosy people, always wondering when you were going to have kids, while your own father just let you live your life at your own pace.

“Oh, that’s not even the best part,” Ann continued. “They think it would be beneficial for my son to meet his maternal grandmother. Can you believe that?”

“I can believe they haven’t been hit enough in their lives, that I can believe.” You replied, your sister chuckled. “No one cares what they think. Axel is your son, and you are his mother. If you don’t want our mother to meet him, it is your decision. And frankly, bad parents don’t get to be grandparents. So, I’d say don’t let her meet your little boy.”

“Thank you,” she exclaimed. “I thought I was going crazy over here.”

“You’re not, don’t worry,” you reassured her. “And I’m fairly certain, Dee would agree with me.” You killed the fire under the pan, “what did Henry say to that?”

“Nothing. As usual.” Ann scoffed, “Didn’t defend my decision or even tried to explain to them why I wouldn’t want that.”

“It doesn’t need explaining, they know our story. It’s quite understandable why you wouldn’t,” you leaned your elbows on your counter. “Do you want me to give him call?”

“No, it won’t be necessary,” she told you. “I just needed to know I wasn’t alone in this.”

“You’re not,” you assured her. “Just to let you know, if you do decide to let her see little Axel, I won’t be mad. I’ll support you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I know,” she sighed. “Would you?” she questioned you, “would you let her in?”

“No,” your answer was firm. “Never again. Do you want to let her in?”

“No,” Ann was a firm as you in her answer. “She doesn’t deserve it.”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “Don’t let them get into your head. They’re not your in-laws, so, their opinions don’t really matter.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “So, whatcha doin’?”

“Cooking some stir-fry, and then some netflix and chill—or maybe some video games, haven’t decided yet.”

“Oh, come on!” Ann groaned, “It’s Friday night, you’re single. You should be out there having fun, meeting new people. Do this for me, let me live vicariously through you. Please!”

You huffed out a laugh. She had yet to know about Matthew. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share him with your family, you did. You wanted them to know about the new man in your life. You wanted them to share in your happiness. However, you were just very protective of your relationship with Matt. You wanted to keep him for yourself a little while longer.

But this was your sister. Your first ever best friend. It didn’t seem fair to hide it from her. Not when she came to you first, after she had said yes to her, then, fiancé.

“Well,” you started, “it’s been a very long week. And I didn’t feel like socializing tonight.”

“Typical,” Ann snorted.

There was a knock on your door. “And who said I was single?” Your feet made no sound as you quietly walked towards your door.

“You have a boyfriend!” She squealed, “tell me everything.”

You shook your head while pulling your door open, revealing Matt on the other side.

His tie was loose and crooked around his neck, his dark and soft locks, a mess on his head. A grin was plastered on his face, your lips tugging up at the corner, mirroring his.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he greeted you. You caught the smell of Josie’s stale beer in his breath as he leaned in to rest a soft kiss on your lips.

“Hey, Matty.”

“He calls you ‘sweetheart,’” your sister’s voice rose from your phone, reminding you that she was still on the line with you. “What’s his name?”

“Matt,” you answered quickly as Matt let himself into your apartment. “I’ll be right with you, okay?” He nodded with a smile, shedding his coat.

“So, that’s you meant by Netflix and chill, uh?” You sister teased,

“No, I genuinely meant Netflix and chill,” you hissed at her as you watched Matt sit down on your couch.

“No one means Netflix and chill when they say Netflix and chill,” Ann told you. “It’s what my husband and I get up to when baby’s with grandma.”

“Nope,” you shook your head. “I don’t need to hear about that. Absolutely not,”

“Alright, sorry,” she chuckled. “I’ll let you join your beau, but first tell me the basics. What’s his name? What does he do in life? And how hot is he? And most importantly, how long have you been dating?”

You looked up, your eyes landing on the back of Matt’s head. “Alright, basics,” you turned around and leaned against your counter. “His name is Matthew Murdock. He’s a lawyer and has his own firm. He is blind and very—very hot. And sweet as honey. And it’s been—almost four months.”

“Almost four months? And you kept it from me?”

“Says the girl who only told us she was pregnant at the six months mark?” You reminded her.

“It’s not my fault, the props I needed to make the big announcement took too long to be delivered.” She defended herself, “when do we get to meet him?” Ann questioned excitedly.

“Not yet, I don’t want you to scare him away.”

“We won’t, I promise,” your sister said, her voice going a little higher.

“We’ll see about that,” you snorted. “Look, I gotta go. My boyfriend’s over.”

“Okay,” she retorted. “Go Netflix and chill, ‘all night long,’” she sang the last part.

“Alright—bye bye.” You said before hanging up.

You put your phone on the counter, heaving out a deep breath. You had not lied to your sister, you didn’t feel like socializing with anyone that night, so, you opted out of your usual hangout at Josie’s. You walked up to the couch where Matt had settled in, waiting for you patiently. Leaning over the back of the couch, you put your arms around his shoulders and laid a kiss on his cheek. His hands came up, his fingers wrapping around your forearms.

“Not that I’m not glad to see you,” you started, “I’m very glad to see you but aren’t you supposed to be at Josie’s with the others?”

“I’ve been looking forward to spend some time with my girlfriend, and she doesn’t show up,” Matt said quietly.

“I did warn you,” you told him, one of your hands raking through his hair.

“I know,” he gave a pleased hum, “I thought I skipped on the hangout and come and find you here,” your lips tugged up at the corner. “I just missed you,” Matt admitted, pulling your arm away from around his shoulders, to rest a kiss on your wrist.

A soft smile made its way onto your face, “I missed you too.” His lips found yours, kissing yours in a weird angle over the back of the couch. You pulled away, “do you want some food? I cook a really mean stir-fry. Or so, I’ve been told.”

You later found yourself lying in bed, with Matt’s nose buried in your neck. His body was draped over yours, not crushing you under his weight. His weight on top of yours felt comforting, you loved feeling the way he was relaxing under your touch. You wanted to ravish him here and there, but you were enjoying this cuddle session too much to put a stop to it, in favor of mind-blowing sex. One of his hands found its way under your shirt,

“Long week?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah,” you replied in the same manner. “My workload has sort of doubled, I also had to go to meetings. Too many if you ask me,” you explained, your hand rubbing up and down his spine. “I just wanted to enjoy a night to myself, without having to socialize with anyone.”

Matt kissed your collarbone, “sorry, I’ve ruined that for you.”

“I’m not complaining,” you smiled softly. “And you haven’t ruined anything. I had a few hours to myself staring at a wall, which was truly relaxing,” your lips found his brows. “And you’re not anyone, you’re Matt. My ruggedly handsome boyfriend,” a small giggled escaped your lips.

He moved off of you slightly, and you whined at the move. He leaned on his elbow, facing you, his sightless eyes staring at your chin. “Stare at a wall?” His brows were scrunched up.

You giggled again, he smiled at the sound, “yeah, stare at a wall. Technically, not for hours and it wasn’t really a wall. But I do stare at nothing at times, and let my mind wander to the confines of the universe.” You finished with a solemn tone.

“The confines of the universe, uh?” He laughed, “what does that entail exactly?”

“Well,” your hand ran up his arm, “it’s just another way to say daydreaming really.”

His hand slid higher under your shirt, “what were you daydreaming about?”

Your face flushed in embarrassment; the top of your ears heated up. You usually didn’t share the object of your daydreams. It was in your opinion too intimate for anyone to be let in, and also, you didn’t want them to judge you for it. You’d rather tell him something about a really embarrassing experience than to share what they were about.

You started toying with the short sleeve of his black shirt, “nothing really interesting. It’s just, you know—” you shrugged up one of your shoulders. “—stupid stuff, nothing too important,” you cupped his face, your thumb running across his cheek, rough under your fingers. “And that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point, then?” Matt smiled at you.

“The point was that daydreaming is really relaxing and resting. It’s like my brain shut off, but not completely. My mind can just wander aimlessly and it’s beneficial—for the health.”

“Ah,” he nodded, “should I try it then?”

“You should,” you replied. “Studies showed that people who ‘practiced’ daydreaming have better control over their emotions, have more empathy and are naturally better problem solvers.”

“You read a study about daydreaming?” His eyebrows went up.

You barked out a laugh, “yeah, I looked it up.” You bit down on your bottom lip, “you think I’m weird, don’t you?”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you are weird. I know you are,” you slapped his shoulder. Matt burst out a laugh. “It’s part of your charm.”

“Huh, uh,” you nodded.

“Truly, it is. Next to your voice,” he laid a kiss on your throat, “to your laugh,” another kiss on the corner of your lips. Your breath hitched in your throat. “Your weirdness is one my favorite thing,” his lips brushed against your temple. “It’s very entertaining.”

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Very much.”

He dove for your neck, and started peppering kisses, down your collarbone, up your neck, before attacking your face. The action sent you into a fit of giggles. Being spurt on by your laugh, Matt kept on doing it. Conversation about your daydreams, or your weirdness completely forgotten. Especially when the peppered kisses turned into something more passionate and heated.

You were nearing the four months mark in your relationship with Matt. You often wondered how you’d gotten so lucky with this man. Everything seemed so easy with him. You, who needed alone time to recharge your social battery, found that you didn’t really need one with him. It was the complete opposite, spending time with Matt, recharged your social battery even faster.

Spring was slowly fading away, making room for Summer. The rising heat in the streets of Hell’s Kitchen had a way to irritate people. Walking to work with Amelia, had given you a glimpse into how quick and prone were to anger. All because of the rise in temperature. You didn’t truly mind it, although, at night you did leave a fan on, and slowly wore less and less clothes to bed.

“There isn’t even a lick of wind,” you complained to Amelia. “We should have taken a cab.”

“To go to Josie’s? You’re out of your mind,” Amelia snorted. “Don’t be such a wuss, it’s not that bad yet.”

“What do you mean yet?”

“I mean it’s only the beginning, and it’s going to get worse.” Amelia patiently explained. “It’s not for the weak.”

“Thanks that’s really helpful,” you said as she pushed the door open. “The coldest beer you have, Josie, please.” You almost begged the woman, sitting down on the stool.

“You’re so dramatic,” Amelia huffed out a laugh. “So, weren’t you suppose to meet up with lover boy tonight?”

“He cancelled,” you nodded, turning your stool to face Amelia. “He’s still working on his big case. Needed to tie up some loose ends.”

“When’s the court date?” Amelia questioned; Josie pushed your beers towards you.

“Not for another month,” you retorted. “But you know court case takes a lot, and they need to make sure that they covered all their basis. So, they won’t have any surprises when it comes to trial.”

“You did a deep dive on this, didn’t you?” Amelia cocked up of her eyebrows.

“Not exactly deep dive, but I did look it up,” you gave her a sheepish smile. You took a sip of the cold beer, “That feels so good.”

“You are so not surviving the summer,” she joked.

“Oh, I will. Just to spite you, and Summer.”

Your window was cracked opened slightly, in hopes you would feel some breeze to alleviate the heat. You lied down on the cold floorboard, staring at the ceiling. He had cancelled again that night. His latest case was more complex than he had anticipated. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you understood. But adding to the cancellations, his absences on Fridays at Josie’s had also become more frequent. It wasn’t unusual. He had been unavailable on some Fridays, in the beginning of your relationship, working on opening statements. And you had often popped in to visit him, and fell asleep on his couch while he did so.

It wasn’t unusual.

And yet, you couldn’t help but feel that Matt was probably pulling away from you. Maybe that was the moment the other shoe would drop. Maybe you were right, everything with Matt was too good to be true.

Previous Chapter || Chapter List || Next chapter

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock angst #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x fem!reader #Spotify

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yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere · 8 months ago

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ah all that RWRB joy / RWRB important links in this LONG post♥

edit above of the fans recording THE moment from: https://twitter.com/galitzinerry/status/1789088497879638130 & https://twitter.com/theartim/status/1789082602751873308

.https://ew.com/taylor-zakhar-perez-honors-nicholas-galitzine-entertainers-of-the-year-2024-8759399 +CAST OF RED WHITE & ROYAL BLUE |FYC Panel - Consider Amazon:https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/769737016086839297?source=share

BTW for everyone interested: Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition Henry PoV bonus chapter by Casey Mcquiston : https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/752528941905018880?source=share

+CMQ spotify (characters' playlists!!) https://open.spotify.com/user/p873j0jdmqn5hye7cakdnub7e/playlists

-12 mins cast & crew interview here:

-nearly 30mins Q & A from the screening in GREAT quality:

youtube

-ily matthew for saying this:

-my Alex:

-my FIRSTPRINCE:

-FIRSTPRINCE EDITS LINKS (many) :

-Arthur Fox & Henry Fox:

-important RWRB post (lots of links there)

-RWRB deleted scenes:

-RWRB-coming out :

-another IMPORTANT RWRB post:

my RWRB (1) ig highlight: https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/18198132073262637/

my RWRB (2) ig highlight: https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/18037791823861597/

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mentally-unstable-hottie13 · 3 months ago

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⭐️𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬⭐️

Henry Bowers x fem! Reader

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

chapter 4

Chapter summery: first day of school jitters

Word count: 2,793

Estimated read time: 13 minutes

A/N: we are ever so slowly getting closer and closer to what y’all came here for!

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Chapter 3

Oh aren’t you just a ray of sunshine

Bam!

You felt the sting of a fist across your face.

Bam!

Another.

Bam!

And then another.

The hits stopped about when you almost passed out.

They never stopped when you cried. Or when you said please.

You watched your mother get off of you.

Glancing at the blood on your knuckles as she stood, you couldn’t tell if it was hers or yours.

You waited until you heard the door to her and your fathers room lock before you crawled to the door and opened it. Using the door handle as leverage to stand. You wobbled to the mirror to look at yourself. You find yourself bloody and bruised with a black eye already swollen shut and blood coming out of every part of your face.

The phone on your bed rang!

You woke up with a jolt! Heavily panting and breathing. As you tried to figure out where the fuck you were. You were home. Killer was asleep at your feet and Kevin was just downstairs. You were home. You jump out of bed and rush to the closest mirror. You examine your face. It’s fine. Perfectly fine. Not a cut, not a bruise, not even a pimple. You sighed.

You look at the clock by the mirror on your desk to find that it’s only 20 minutes before you were planning on waking up. School starts today. Yippie.

Yesterday Kev didn’t take you into town because there was no reason to. The town was dead. Everyone was focused on getting ready. So you and Kevy sat at home and relaxed. You didn’t need new clothes because no one knew these clothes were actually like 2 years old. You didn’t need to go supply shopping because the teachers would tell you what you needed the first few days of school. When it was starting to get late Kevin suggested you sleep in your own bed with killer to get as much rest as possible. Much to your discomfort. You agreed. You open the blinds to your balcony and sit in your robe against the railing. Soon killer woke up and nudged you with his head. You kissed his stupid face and started to get ready.

You showered the night before so you were clean. You quickly did your makeup and got dressed in some Jeans and a baby blue knitted sweater. You put your hair up into a loose clip and stuffed you work clothes (pantyhose, shorts and a loose band tee with cut neckline so it hung off your shoulder. Along with a cardigan sweater in case you got cold.) into your cloth messenger bag and went downstairs with killer. You quickly fed him and got yourself some juice before going to Kev's room.

“Kevy, I gotta go now” you said quietly.

“There's an old bike with a basket in the farm shed so you don’t have to walk. Don’t let killer out” he grumbled and the turned over to face away from you.

The thought of everything, you smiled to yourself. You locked up the house with killer scratching at the door, before wandering to the farm shed. You found a perfect light blue bike with a wicker basket attached to the front. You wheeled it out, Checked the tires, and once you deemed them good you set your bag in the basket and rode off making sure to lock the property gate. As you rode down the main dirt road you noticed that the pigs police cruiser wasn’t there. But that asshole's blue car was. You didn’t stop and continued riding until you got to the main entrance of Derry high school. You rode your way to the farthest most hidden bike rack and locked up your bike. This rack was more hidden because of how far it was from a usable entrance. There was a door here but it looks to have been blocked off for some reason.

As you are walking back to the main entrance the bell rings.

“Ah fuck” you mumble to yourself before you start jogging to the entrance. You have no fucking idea where your classes are and you don’t know who to ask for help. You get through the front main doors and almost instantly feel eyes on you. You look too old to be a freshman but no one has ever seen you. You stick out. Hell, even the freshmen are looking at you. You are new in town and everyone knows it. You keep your head high and walk around trying to find your first period. You eventually figure out all core classes are coded by hundreds. So your first hour. Chemistry is in the 600 hall. By the time you figure that out, the bell has rung and you are the last person in the halls.

How the fuck is that possible? How do the freshman know where their fucking classes are? You groan and walk to your class. When you go to open the door to room 605 it’s locked. With another groan you knock loudly. You hear the woman’s loud voice inside halt and you hear footsteps stomping over to you. ‘This should be good’ you think to yourself sourly. The door opens and an old large woman greets you.

“Your late” she spits as she gestures you inside, closing the door behind you.

“I know” you reply.

“Why?”

“Excuse me?” You question. What does she mean why? It’s the frist day of school.

“Why were you late?” She repeated bitterly.

“It’s the first day of school” you state and a couple of the kids at the lab benches snort. You are becoming increasingly aware that you and the teacher are standing in front of the class, basically arguing.

“That is no excuse. The class tours were 2 weeks ago. you should have attended” she spits at you once again.

You are getting so frustrated and annoyed with this conversation you want to hit something. You didn’t want to put the spotlight on being the new kid today but it looks like you’ll have to.

“Listen miss. I wasn’t even fully packed to move here 2 weeks ago. I was officially enrolled 5 days ago and just got my schedule 3 days ago. I got lost. May I please sit down?” You snap at her.

She looked surprised at your tone and hurried over to her desk to find a clipboard.

“Ah I’ve found you. It appears the only free seat is with mr Bowers in the back”

All the students tensed. Oh how bad could it be? You walk down the rows to see an empty Seat in the aisle. Shame. You would have loved the window seat to look outside. As you pass the last few students you see the boy sitting in the window seat. He’s really cute. You look at him for a second, scanning him. Brown mullet. Tall. Sleeveless shirt. His arms are crossed and he looks pissed. You sit down before he can notice your staring. Maybe if you get here early next time you can take the window seat. Though he doesn't exactly look nice enough to be beat to a seat. The large woman talks about nothing for about an hour and then the bell rings.

That annoying ass conversation happened with every teacher for the first three periods. You didn’t know where the fuck anything was. This school was weirdly bigger than your last one. Finally it was lunch and all the students were allowed off campus to eat. You hadn’t seen any of those really nice kids from next to the diner yet so you decided to wander around outside. Strangely enough that’s where you saw them. By the bike rack. They saw you too. The girl you remember as Beverly waved you down with a big smile. You jogged over to them and greeted them.

“W-w-we were just ab-b-b-bout to go get some food. Wan-n-n-a come with?” Billy asked.

“Sure!” you replied and they all hopped on their bikes.

Mike was the one to notice you didn’t have one.

“Do you need a ride?” He asked sweetly.

“Oh no I have a bike I just have to go get it. Is that okay with y’all?”

They all nod and you smile and lightly jog away to the hidden bike rack. As you are coming back you hear a commotion. You duck behind a pillar and peek out to look at those kids being picked on. They are being pushed and shoved by a really tall guy, with longish hair, a chubby guy with a hat, a skinny guy with dyed blonde hair, and that cute guy from chem class. You watch as that bowers guy goes up to Bill and licks his palm before smearing it on Bill's face. The boys laugh and get into that blue sports car. Of fucking course. The boys drive off and you run to the others with your bike.

“Are y’all okay? I saw a little of what happened!¿Estás herido?” (Are you hurt?)

Stanley turned to you looking sad. “That was just Bowers and his goons”

Richie chimed in “they fuck with us all the time. Look what they did to Ben here” Richie grabbed the bottom of Ben’s shirt and lifted it up revealing an almost healed cut in the letter H. Ben quickly shoved his shirt back down and glared at Richie. Obviously embarrassed that you saw his stomach less than a day of knowing him.

Eddie pipes up “who cares, they aren’t here anymore and I need to take my meds with food. can we please just fucking leave?”

You wonder if Eddie always seemed this on edge. All of you bike to a nearby food truck and enjoy some bullshit tacos and burgers.

“What class you got next, new kid?” Beverly nudges you with a smile.

“Oh I actually don’t know yet” you pull out your phone to check. “Remedial math 2 in room 108… where the fuck is 108?? I ain’t seen a 100 hall in this fucken school.” You grumble to yourself and Beverly laughs.

“Yeah the map of this place is pretty hard to Learn. I have that class too. So does Richie. We can help you get there.”

“Thank god. All day I’ve had to announce to asshole teachers and their classrooms ‘IM NEW’. Might as well just write on my forehead and call myself the constitution with how I got people lookin’ at me.”you sigh.

“Where are you from? You have an accent.” Stanly asks.

“Oh it pains me that you noticed I have that.” You whine dramatically.

“Don’t worry,” he laughs. “It’s not bad. you can just hear it on certain words”

“I’m from Texas” you answer.

“Oh that totally makes sense” Ben says

“I beg your pardon” you raise your eyebrow at him not sure if you should be offended.

He immediately gets flustered at the thought of making you offended “I don’t mean anything by it I just mean you seem like someone from Texas you know. Kind of intimidating but really really kind…” he trails off.

“He means you have a resting bitch face” Richie proclaimed then took a fat bite of his greasy burger.

Ben immediately tried to defend himself but you started laughing so hard you snorted, making everyone else laugh. you knew you had a resting bitch face. It was just funny to hear how hard Ben tried to dodge saying it.

The group finished their food and you all rode off back to the school. They locked their bikes up then walked you to lock yours. Then Beverly and Richie walked you to class. The teacher gives you an assigned seat in the second to last row all the way to the right. To your displeasure that Bowers guy walked in as you sat down and walked to the seat right behind you with his chubby friend a row ahead and to the left of you and 2 seats to the right of Richie. Thank god Beverly was at the front row and on the complete other side of these assholes. The class continued again with no real topic. The end of class came and as Richie stood to get up the chubby asshole and Bowers made their way to him. grabbing him and pulling him aside. You looked at Beverly and she nodded at you to leave while she took care of it. You felt bad but you did as she said.

The rest of the day flew by and before you knew it school was over. You walked out of school to find some of the group at your secluded little bike rack by the blocked off door. It was Mike , Ben, Beverly and Stanley. you all talked as you waited for the others to meet up there. I guess this was the new spot to dodge the group of dicks running through the school.

Eventually the others come out and give you a quick goodbye as you run back into the school and into a bathroom stall. You take off your jeans and put on your pantyhose then your jeans over them. Just so you aren’t caught naked from the waist down on the way to work. You loved your pantyhose because they had built in shorts. No one would be catching you ass out. You thought to yourself.

You walked out of the bathroom and back to your bike. You rode off the way to work and stopped at the bridge. You had to cross it anyway to get to work and no one was around. why not get changed here? You shed your sweater quickly and get the band tee out of your basket and put it on. Next you took off your shoes and jeans and as fast as you could, slid on your shorts. You slipped on your light black cardigan sweater. Then You threw your shoes in the basket, and rode to the shop without them.

There was one thing you were wrong about. You weren’t alone. There was a blue Trans Am parked just to the side of the bridge in a parking lot you didn’t see.

All the other boys were inside stealing some smokes while Henry Bowers sat in the front seat and watched you.

New girl with a tattoo?

How interesting.

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You hop off your bike and grab your bag. Quickly locking it in the bike rack in front of the store before heading inside.

“Honey I’m home!” You playfully yell. You can almost hear his eye roll from the isle he’s in.

“I’m organizing. Can you manage the front?” He shouts back.

You run to where you hear his voice.

“Only if I can play one of the guitars, I need to relax before I invent my own saw trap out of these vinyls. Make a saw from records and lower myself onto it just to get away from the hick town.” You groan.

“Well aren’t you just a ray of fuckin’ sunshine” He laughs at your dramatics. You always did have a way with words. “Sure, no one is in right now so go crazy.”

You jump with excitement and sprint to the guitars. You find a beautiful pink custom fender electric and take it off the wall. You run over to the front desk, plug it into the amp and begin to play whatever comes to mind.

You missed this.

You know it may seem redundant to think about but you feel so relaxed around Kevin. You feel home. Even if this town sucks and you can’t stand more than a few people. It’s home because he is here. You are playing guitar while he organizes like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he never left. Like momma is sitting at home waiting for y’all to barge in and distract her from her rewatch of Jersey shore. Like Issac is sitting in his room playing video games. You know they aren’t though. That burns deep in your chest. But you and Kevin have each other. That’s all y’all need for now.

“I love that song” Kevin quips at you from the floor of aisle 2.

You hadn’t realized but you began playing some dumbass dad Rock song. It was the rock version of Smooth Criminal by Alien Ant Hill. You continue to play with a smile. That was before some people came in and immediately started roughhousing around record players. Kevin got up and walked to you with an empty crate in hand.

“You deal with these freaks. You don’t know how to sort yet and I really gotta get this done.”

You nod and continue strumming to the song in your head.

He smiles and walks to the back room where killer is sleeping. You turn down the volume of the amp to see the boys, Who you only now recognize as the Bowers gang, huddled together by the CD’s.

‘Oh fuck’ you internally groan. This is gonna fucking suck.

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Hope you liked it!!

#henry bowers #henry bower x fem! reader #henry bowers x y/n #henry bowers x reader #it henry bowers #henry bowers fanfic #belch huggins #patrick hockstetter #90s

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pxnsneverland · 7 months ago

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Ruthless Grace | Austin Butler x OC (part 2)

plot summary: Amidst the grime and squalor of Victorian England's winding cobblestone alleys, a young woman's life hangs precariously in the balance. Violet, a poor peasant girl with long raven locks and piercing gray eyes, possesses a haunting beauty that belies the harsh realities of her existence. Tragedy struck two years prior when Violet's mother succumbed to illness, leaving her to fend for herself and her father – a cruel, selfish man consumed by vices of alcohol and gambling. On one fateful night, Violet's father drags her unwillingly to that very den of iniquity, and there she learns a horrifying truth from the club's greedy, perverted owner: to repay his mounting gambling debts, her father has sold her into sexual servitude. Violet's vehement protests fall on deaf ears, until an unlikely savior emerges from the shadows. Lord Austin Butler intervenes with a bargain of his own. This dangerous man offers to pay off Violet's father's debts in exchange for her accompaniment, and Violet is torn from the only life she has known. While Austin's demeanor remains shrouded in mystery and detachment at first, Violet gradually glimpses his softer, even playful side as time passes within the manor's walls and an unexpected connection blossoms between the unlikely pair.

pairings: austin butler x oc

word count: 3,025

warnings/notes: Still kind of an introductory/background chapter. But Austin does get introduced in this one :)

Chapter 2: An Unwelcome Visitor

One particularly bleak morning brought more than typical London drizzle; it brought Mr. Henry Cartwright—or 'Rat,' as he was aptly nicknamed—slinking through the narrow, cobbled streets towards their humble abode. His arrival was never without dread; his shadow seemed to cast a pall over whatever it touched, and today, its reach felt more chilling than usual. Violet watched from behind the partially closed door as this man who held her fate in his greasy palms approached. She could see the false smile plastered on his face, a grimace disguised as a greeting.

“Miss Everly,” Henry Cartwright began, his voice smooth like oil, but with an edge that hinted at the impatience beneath. “Your father has failed to meet his obligations again. And here I find myself, contemplating what measures to take to assure his... cooperation.”

Violet’s heart sank. She knew too well what this meant: further debts, more threats, or worse—actualization of those threats. The room felt colder as he stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a definitive thud.

“I have no money to give you, Mr. Cartwright,” Violet said quietly, her gaze steady despite the fear gnawing at her insides. Her voice carried a defiance born not of hope but of resignation to whatever might come next.

Cartwright chuckled darkly, pacing slowly around the sparse room as if appraising it for valuables that did not exist. "Ah, but my dear," he sneered, eyes glinting with a cruel amusement as he stopped to face her, "it's not your money I'm after. You must understand, the debts of your father have grown too substantial to be ignored any longer."

Violet felt the walls close in, the weight of her impending doom pressing down on her shoulders. The silence that followed was suffocating, broken only by the distant sound of a horse-drawn cart rattling over cobblestones outside. Henry Cartwright's gaze was like a vise, tightening with every second she remained silent.

"You see, Miss Everly," Rat continued, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper as he leaned closer, "your father's ineptitude has forced my hand. There's a certain... clientele at my club who would pay handsomely for the company of someone as rare and beautiful as you. It would certainly settle his accounts... and maybe even leave some over for your own keep."

Violet recoiled as if struck. The very air around her seemed to thicken with revulsion. Her mind raced, desperate for an escape from this nightmare, but her body felt frozen, ensnared by the horrifying reality of Rat's proposition. Rat's smirk widened as he observed her horror, taking perverse pleasure in the power he wielded over her. Violet's heart pounded mercilessly against her ribcage, each beat a drum of panic. Yet, amidst the terror, a spark of her indomitable spirit flickered to life.

"No," she whispered, the word barely audible yet loaded with all the conviction she could muster. Rat paused, his expression shifting to one of surprise and then quickly to anger.

"What did you say?" he hissed, stepping closer.

Violet straightened up, her gray eyes hardening like flint. "I said no." Her voice gained strength from somewhere deep within her, a place untouched by fear or despair. "I am not a coin to be traded at your whim."

Rat laughed, a cold, humorless sound. "You might think you have a choice in this matter, Miss Everly, but let me assure you — you do not. This is not just your fate but also a solution to your father’s incompetence."

"I would rather die than live at the mercy of your vile desires," Violet retorted, her defiance lighting up her gaunt features.

The amusement on Rat’s face vanished, replaced by a menacing scowl. "Be careful, young lady. You are in no position to issue threats. Remember, I can make your life exceedingly difficult."

Violet's resolve did not falter, though her heart trembled within her chest. She knew the danger of antagonizing a man like Rat, but the thought of subjugation under his control was more terrifying than any threat he could utter.

"Then you shall have to do what you must," Violet said, her voice steady, though inside she felt like a fragile bird in a storm.

Rat's eyes narrowed, his lips twisting into a cruel sneer. "Very well, Miss Everly. Since you choose defiance, expect no mercy from me." With those chilling words, he turned on his heel and strode towards the door, each step heavy with menace.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Violet slumped against the wall, her legs weak with relief and fear. Tears threatened to spill over — not merely from fright but also from a deep-seated rage against the injustice of her plight and the depravity of men like Rat. In the silence that followed Rat's departure, the small, dimly lit room felt both sanctuary and prison. Violet's breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a battle against the despair that threatened to engulf her. Her father, who had been silent during the entire confrontation, now looked at her with a mix of bewilderment and indifference. His gaze was glazed, numbed by alcohol and years of moral decay.

"Violet, you shouldn't have spoken to him like that," he slurred, his voice barely rising above a whisper. "You've just made things worse for us."

Violet turned to face her father, her expression wrought with a mixture of pain and defiance. "Made things worse? How, Father? By refusing to be sold like property?" Her voice trembled from the intense emotion that churned within her, but her stance was resolute. "No, Father, it is you who have made things worse with your recklessness."

Edward Everly shuffled uncomfortably, his bloodshot eyes avoiding her piercing gaze. "You don't understand, Violet.”

"That does not excuse you from your vices!" Violet's words cut through the dim room like a blade. The very air seemed charged with her fury, an electric tension that made even Edward shift uneasily on his feet.

Edward's gaze shifted again, landing on the grimy window pane as if seeking an escape from Violet’s searing condemnation. “You think it’s easy? Surviving in this godforsaken place?” His voice cracked, an unusual display of emotion from a man she knew more as a figure of stubborn indifference and cruelty.

“Survival does not necessitate the selling of one’s soul,” Violet retorted sharply, her eyes never leaving his face despite the sting of tears that blurred her vision.

A shadow passed over Edward’s face—a flicker of guilt, perhaps, or merely resentment at being challenged. “You don’t know the burdens I carry,” he muttered, turning away from her piercing eyes.

Violet felt a momentary pang of pity for the man who had once been her protector, before quickly steeling her heart against it. "And you, Father, have never understood the burden of your actions on others," she replied softly, yet with a steeliness that surprised even her.

The tension between them stretched taut as a bowstring. Edward stood, his jaw clenched, the veins in his neck bulging with suppressed rage. The flickering candlelight cast eerie shadows on his face, making him look more monster than man. Abruptly, he grabbed his coat from the hook by the door and yanked it on with jerky movements.

"Where are you going?" Violet asked, her voice steady despite the fear that gripped her heart.

"To settle things with Rat," Edward growled, his words slurring together as he struggled to maintain control over his enflamed emotions.

Without waiting for a response, Edward stumbled out of the room, his heavy boots echoing against the wooden floorboards. Violet watched him go, a whirlwind of emotions churning within her. Fear for what her father might do in his drunken state mixed with fury at his betrayal and sadness for the broken shell of a man he had become.

Left alone, Violet’s thoughts raced as she pondered her next move. The walls of the dank room felt like they were closing in on her, each shadow playing tricks on her eyes as if mocking her plight. She knew that standing up to Rat had probably only bought her a brief reprieve. Men like him did not take defiance lightly, and she had no illusions about the lengths to which he would go to assert his control.

The sound of raucous laughter and clinking glasses from down below reminded her of where she was — in the bowels of a club. Rising to her feet, she wiped the tears from her cheeks, refusing to allow them any further claim on her spirit. With quiet steps, she went down the stairs and approached the door that led into the club.

********************

The dimly lit back room of the club was thick with the smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke, a miasma that clung to every surface as obstinately as the patrons clung to their vices. Violet's heart hammered in her chest, each beat a loud echo in her ears that seemed to drown out the low murmur of conversation around her. She stood stiffly beside her father, her fingers clenched tightly around the fabric of her worn skirt. Rat sat behind a cluttered desk covered in papers and empty glasses, his beady eyes appraising Violet like a merchant assessing a piece of merchandise. Edward shifted uncomfortably beside her, his gaze avoiding hers.

"Ah, the gem of the night," Rat exclaimed with a greasy smile, his voice dripping with feigned delight.

Violet felt a shiver course through her spine at his words, her skin crawling under the weight of his gaze. She remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line, as Rat stood and circled around the desk with the predatory grace of a vulture swooping down on its prey. He stopped inches from her, his fetid breath brushing against her face as he leaned in close.

"You'll do nicely," he murmured, his eyes gleaming with unwholesome anticipation. Violet recoiled instinctively, but Rat's hand shot out, gripping her chin with a firmness that made escape impossible.

“Get your hands off of me,” Violet spat struggling to keep her eyes locked on his. She would not give him the satisfaction of seeing her weak.

Rat snickered roughly letting go of her chin. “You’ve got fire. I’ll be sure to do something about that quickly.”

“What are you talking about?” Violet raised a brow.

Edward's laugh, a hollow sound devoid of any paternal warmth, grated on her nerves. "Now, now, Violet, be good," he chided, his words slurred slightly as he took another swig from the bottle he had managed to procure upon their arrival.

Rat's chuckle was low and menacing as he turned his attention back to Violet's father. "Edward, you've truly outdone yourself this time," he sneered, eyeing Violet like a hawk regarding its next meal. His voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper, though loud enough for Violet to overhear. "Remember our agreement. She's mine until the debts are squared away."

Violet felt her blood run cold at his words, the finality of her situation crashing down around her like the walls of a decrepit house succumbing to its own decay. A surge of panic threatened to overwhelm her, but she quashed it quickly, her instinct for survival sharpening her focus. She needed to think, to plan, not simply react.

"Never," she breathed, her voice trembling not from fear, but from a fierce resolve that took even her by surprise. Violet turned sharply to face her father, stepping forward so that they were eye-to-eye, forcing him to confront the reality of what he had done. "How could you?" The accusation was more than a question; it was a denouncement of every moment of neglect and abuse she had suffered under his care.

Edward, his face a mixture of inebriated confusion and dim irritation, tried to formulate a response, a pathetic attempt at justification hanging limply between them. "It's all for the best," he stuttered, his eyes not meeting hers. "You'll have food and—a roof."

Violet's laugh was bitter, laced with incredulity and contempt. "A roof? A cage, more like," she retorted sharply, her anger giving her voice a steely edge. "You barter away your flesh and blood for a few coins to squander on your vices. You are less than a man."

Edward's face reddened, his eyes briefly flashing with something that might have been shame, but it was quickly drowned out by a resurgence of his habitual defiance. "You don't understand the pressures I'm under!" he shouted back, his voice rising over the din of the club.

"I understand perfectly," Violet countered coldly. "I understand that you are a coward, Father. A coward who would sell his daughter to shield himself from his own failures."

The room seemed to hold its breath, the usual cacophony momentarily subdued as patrons turned to witness the spectacle unfolding. Rat, sensing the shift in atmosphere, clapped his hands with mock cheerfulness. "Enough of this family drama," he interjected smoothly, his tone brooking no argument. "Violet, you are now under my care. Edward, you know the terms. Don't make this uglier than it needs to be."

With a disdainful glance at her father, Violet pulled her arm free from his grasp and took a step back, distancing herself both physically and emotionally. Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribcage, each thud resonating with the resolve that hardened in her eyes. She wouldn't let despair consume her; she would fight, somehow.

“Now, Now, Cartwright,” came a voice that belonged to a hooded figure seated near them at the opposite table. “You should know better than to do your dastardly deeds in the open.” The figure removed his hood revealing a young man with blue eyes and blonde hair that flickered in the candlelight.

Rat sneered. “Lord Butler. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Stay tuned for part 3!! Click HERE to view!

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 1 year ago

Text

🎃 A Truth Universally Acknowledged: Chapter One

A Truth Universally Acknowledged: It has long been established that you don’t like Dream of the Endless, and he doesn’t like you. Unfortunately, fate has decided to stick you both in a glass cage for a century. Who's throat will be torn out first? Yours? Or Dreams.

Warnings: Reader and Morpheus do not get along, Maga is latin for witch.

To Note: Morpheus x WitchFem!Reader.

Prompt: Role Reversal

Word Count: ~7.7k

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Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

It was a truth universally acknowledge that should one mortify a pride, forgiveness would not so easily be obtained. So how were you ever expected to truthfully forgive someone who had not just mortified your pride, but trampled on it until there were permanent stains and tears in it. Nothing would sew your pride back together, and nothing would remove the stain of insult rendered upon your being. The season of 1815 had not just rendered you mortified, it had shattered your pride. It had started out as an average season, as an immortal witch you’d decided to spend that year in London to enjoy the frivolity of the marriage mart.

Now, on all accounts by no means were you looking to be married… what sane mortal would willingly wed a witch? But you did enjoy the social aspects of the English balls and liked to dress up in fancy clothing. You certainly had the fortune to do so after living for so many centuries. So you had gone to the modiste and ordered several dresses for the season, and had even splurged on a few new jewelry pieces for your collection to have as a memoire of this time. You’d lingered at the fringes of the first couple of balls, but were slowly mingling further and further into the ton.

At some point you had made a friend out of one of the bachelors searching for a wife. It had been clear that neither of your were particularly romantically interested (which was better for you int he long term) and had taken to meeting up every ball to gossip and preen over outfit choices and who had committed a faux pax over luncheon. It was pure fun for you and Henry was certainly getting your experience in searching for a new wife. You had pointed out a potential match you thought would suit the young man quite nicely when you caught sight of an omen. Well it was less of an omen and more of an irritant.

The Dream Lord had no reason to be in the Waking Realm, it was your turf, and just like you respected his realm, it was only right the he respected yours. For what reason had he come to London when you were there? Nothing good, that you were sure of. So you headed for the parchment table full of lemonade for surely it wouldn’t be nearly as sour as the conversation you were sure to have with him should your paths cross.

Grasping the skirt of your dress to keep it out of your way, you glided across the room with clear intentions to parch your throat. The train of your silk dress trailed behind you in a soft bed of blue flowers carefully stitched into the tulle overlay. Carefully grabbing a glass of lemonade you took a sip as Lady Camden joined your side.

“Lady Bell,” She greeted you, using your alias. You nodded to her with a dip of your chin in greeting.

“Lady Camden, a pleasure to see you tonight, I noticed the Lord Richards was quite taken with you while you were on the floor. Do I suspect a match in your near future?” You replied with a tease in your voice. Her eyes sparkled and she fanned herself with her gossamer and feather fan.

“I surely hope so,” She softly giggled, her doe-like eyes flittering over to where Lord Richards was speaking with a few other eligible men. Ah to be mortal and in love… what you would give to feel that fleeting emotion once more.

“I am confident he shall do so, for he would be a fool to do otherwise.” You stated, taking another sip of your lemonade. You and Lady Camden made more merry conversation while you blatantly ignored the dark and brooding menace lingering in the fringes of the ballroom. It was only when the band started up music once more that you placed your glass down and looked to the dance floor. The next set of dancers were due and perhaps someone would invite you. Your hand was indeed asked for a dance and you happily accepted.

You danced line with the other woman, exchanging partners a few times and all around enjoyed yourself immensely… but on the next partner change you found yourself spun into his arms. You nearly smacked his hands away from your body when he caught you but managed to safe face purely because you had a good reputation among the ton and planned remaining in England for the next several years. They wouldn’t take well to you smacking the Dream Lord senseless on the dance floor. So you grit your teeth and forced yourself to remain calm.

“My lord,” You greeted, barely covering the tinge of hostility within your voice. “To what do I owe this pleasure of your visit?”

Lightning crackled within his stardust gaze.

“Presumptuous of you to assume that I am in attendance purely for your leisure,” His lip curled just the slightest and your eye twitched in return.

“Then what, pray tell, brings you to such an event as this? I am sure you are far too busy with your duties to indulge in the leisures of man.”

“One could ask you the same, Lady Bell,” Dream rebutted. “Surely such whimsical mortal activities are below the standings of a prominent witch such as yourself.” Oh that was an insult if you ever heard one. You didn’t bother maintaining pleasantries with the Dream Lord any further and cut to the point.

“Why are you here?” You boldly questioned. Suffice to say you didn’t directly ask why he was there being a nuisance to your festivities. You did hold some self-preservation in regards to pushing his temperament. Annoyance flashed through his blue eyes.

“A wayward nightmare, presumptuous of you to assume that I am here for you.” Oh the complete audacity of him to assume that you wished for his presence! You could count on one hand the number of times you willingly sought his presence let alone wanted it. None of those times had been your own desire, but out of necessity.

“The audacity of you to insinuate that I would ever desire your despicable and repugnant presence! I would rather lose my magic than willingly spend time with you, you loathsome cad.” You hissed at him, your eyes flashing with the color of your magic. Morpheus’ hackles rose at your audacity to speak to him as such and immediately fired back at you.

“You dare to speak to me in such tone and disrespect Maga!?” Dream growled at you. The floor beneath your slippers shivered and groaned as the music was interrupted by the argument between you and the Dream Lord. You and he were causing a scene. Jerking back from the menace of the Endless, you glared heavily at him.

“I simply dare to speak my thoughts when you have called for such words as clearly you have infringed upon my life in a way that I do not care for!” A lady should never raise her voice, but your mind was so wrapped up in anger and despite that all call for decorum and manners went out the window. “I have been nothing but respectful towards you, my lord, yet you cannot afford to do the same in return?”

“My respect is offered to those who have earned it and you and your promiscuous ways have far exceeded my limit.” You blanched at his words as gasped echoed within the ballroom. “You are a harlot pretending to be a hare. Sharp tongued and wicked.” Just like a snap of a fan, Dream had just reduced your hard earned reputation to ashes and all for what? Your words of truth?

“You are the most deplorable and depraved being I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, my lord,” You spoke with an even voice despite the trembles that now wracked through your body. “I hope you rot in hell,” Further dramatic gasps went around the room at your harsh words. But at this point you had no care because he had just ruined everything. Grabbing at the skirts of your dress, you gave Dream one last murderous glare and fled the ballroom before the talk could start.

Why did he always have to ruin everything.

Your pride was still very much ruined even after a century had gone by. Oh yes, your pride was ruined and your hatred for the Dream Lord still burned like the great Sirius. You hadn’t crossed paths with the Endless’ since that fateful night in 1815, and you were glad so. You probably would hurl a flaming ball of plasma at his stupid pretty face the moment you caught sight of him. Not even his one act of kindness during the witch trials could stop the burning hatred you felt within your heart. He might have saved you from burning at the stake, but now you held nothing but contempt for him.

You huffed to yourself and shifted where you sat, chains ratting as your arms moved. It was by sheer luck that Roderick Burgess had managed to get his hands on the grimoire that held the spell to bind you. A downright miracle that he had performed the ritual correctly to actually keep you in place. So stuck down in the bowels of Fawny Rig and sapped of your power due to his siphoning, you had plenty of time to contemplate past memories. You had no idea why that particular one of Dream humiliating you and mortifying your pride stuck out.

You hadn’t come face to face with him since that day, and while you did occasionally like to cause disturbances for him (because you were vindictive at times), you hadn’t really thought about in since the turn of the new century. You’d been too busy with new witch magic and the search for ancient grimoires. Now you were locked up in a basement with plenty of time to think about your past.

Roderick Burgess was a greedy man.

It wasn’t enough that he repeatedly stole your magic from you, no, he was taking it all every time you recharged in hopes that he could resurrect his son Randall. Resurrection was not possible. You had told him that straight to his face and earned a backhanded slap from the elder mortal. That had been the last time you reminded him of the truth. It was easier to just repeat the rules of magic and avoid mentioning resurrection all together. Tugging on the shackle around your left wrist, you chewed on your lip as your raw skin ached and burned.

The old metal had cut your skin and then dug in to your broken flesh, leaving behind half broken scabs and trails of dried blood. You had suffered worse during the witch trials, but you disliked the discomfort of your current ailments. You were immortal, not invincible or impervious to death. Speaking of Death she was actually quite a nice friend to have, unlike her brother. Your face soured at the thought of him once more and you crossed your arms over your gathered knees to rest your chin on them.

Repugnant man. His face was cloudy in your mind, hatred had blinded you to him so much you couldn’t exactly remember what it was like to glare into the face of that Endless. Heartless cretian. The iron gates creaked as your captor strode into your confined solitude… but he wasn’t alone this time. No, he was followed by his acolyte all robed and covered. While the acolytes began drawing in the sandy dirt floor with red chalk and light candles, you eyed Burgess.

“What more power do you wish for? Is it not enough that you drain my magic? Are you that desperate for your son?” You questioned the man with a sneer on your lip. “You are grasping at the straws of an empty barrel.”

Rather than take the biting words spilling from your mouth, Burgess lashed out. The back of his hand cracked across your cheek. Pain blinded you for a brief moment as you tumbled to the side, your unwashed and messy hair falling into your face. You spit out a mouthful of blood and touched your throbbing lip. Split. A chuckle passed through your lips.

“Testy today, are we?” You giggled darkly, eyeing the mortal through your curtain of hair. He gave you a look in warning. The next hit would knock you out. So you kept you mouth shut as you maneuvered your body back into a sitting position. Content to see Burgess fail for what seemed to be the thousandth time, you leaned back against the steel column you were chained to. They were still getting ready so you took to nudging the dirt beneath your feet around with your big toe.

It wasn’t particular interesting to watch them until they began drawing sigils you recognized. Straightening up in your seat, you stared at the crimson markings in puzzlement because how could Burgess know of these markings? Your eyes flickered back to him and you saw an old book within his hands. Grimoire. How had he gotten his hands on such a book!? Grimoires were sacred tomes that a witch would die before allowing into the hands of a mere mortal! You wanted to demand him where he had gotten such a book, but knew that you would get no answer from him. You’d get smacks though.

Licking the blood that bloomed from where your lip had split, your eyes turned scrutinous. Just because he was drawing correct sigils, did not necessarily mean he knew what he was doing or was doing it correctly. But the longer you watched, the more concerned you grew, while you didn’t recognize this particular combination of sigils, everything else was frighteningly correct. You could make out a few binding sigils, so he planned on binding something other than yourself (you pitied the being caught by the amateur). But there were also summoning markings.

“Summoning,” You murmured to yourself, brow furrowing as you struggle to figure out who Burgess could possibly want to summon after getting nowhere with you. The mortal didn’t spare you a glance, but he had heard your murmur. Of course you’d recognize what he was doing.

“Yes, since you are so resistant to aiding me in my wants—”

“Which are entirely impossible,” You interjected before earning a glare from him. You raised your eyebrows as if to say ’continue?’.

“—I shall summon and bind another being that will help.” You snorted and rolled your eyes because what creature would ever help such a greedy mortal like him? Desire perhaps? No. You might not have met them, but even they had standards. Roderick Burgess fell far below that line. Far, far, below. So you slumped back and closed your eyes, they were going to have to wait for nightfall for whatever summoning they were going to two as the moon boosted summoning magic. You wanted to be ready for whatever hell Burgess unleashed upon himself.

The gods were punishing you. That was the only explanation. Why else would Burgess’ botched summoning circle summing the one being in all of creation that you despised the most? Punishing or laughing, you were unceremoniously dragged from your seat to be locked up in some fancy globe that was currently being welded shut with you and Dream in it. It was downright laughable! Burger seemed smug enough about it though, he was confident that Dream would give him what he wanted.

He wouldn’t, and the mortal would soon find out. If the stupid, deplorable, loathsome, Endless would just wake up already!!

You didn’t know exactly what kind of magic it took to summon an Endless, but it sure did take a lot out of Dream. He’d been out since arriving and had yet to wake. You also didn’t know how powerful he’d be without his tools. A faux pas on his part you took great glee in knowing. And yet, if he was out of power just like you… how were you going to get out? You’d consider that later, right now you were just concentrated on glaring at the lingering man responsible for your situation.

He had regretted binding you upon learning of your unwillingness to cooperate. He was going to be in for a rude awakening when Dream woke up and gave him his ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude. Leaning back against the thick cold glass, your eyes trailed along the freshly welded seams of the cage. How want Burgess going to siphon your magic with you locked up like this? The mortal in question, almost as if hearing your thoughts, strode up to the hanging cage and stared at you with a glare. Your eyebrow twitched in challenge.

“No need to worry about our little sessions, witch,” He told you, his blue eyed tight and heavy. “I can still take your magic with you in that cage.” You were tempted to mouth off on him since he could smack you around anymore, but between your split lip and mood sullied at your future trapped with him, you chose to remain silent. Crossing your arms against your chest, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. If there was anything you learned about Burgess, it was that he hated being ignored.

He eventually left when the glass cage was completed and the workers all trickled out, only two guards remaining behind. To watch you and Dream you suppose… but exactly where were you going to go? Your stomach rumbled and a new worry emerged. Being immortal didn’t mean that you didn’t need to eat. It wouldn’t kill you to starve but you weren’t exactly excited about the idea. The 1500s had been hard enough, you didn’t ever want to get that thin again. You sighed and reminded yourself that you had gotten through tougher times once more.

“Think of all the spells you can curse him with when you get out,” You whispered to yourself, trying to distract yourself from reality. While you were mindlessly flickering through memories of your travels over the centuries, the Endless you were crammed in the cage with began to regain consciousness. He didn’t move, not even a muscle but the minuscule amount of magic you had recharged since your last draining altered you to his alertness.

Narrowing your gaze, you glared at the naked Endless (you were guilty of appreciating his beautiful body for about five seconds before you remembered that you hated him) and waited for his eyes to open. When they did, you cursed him for having such beautiful eyelashes. You, of course, were he first thing he saw and the Endless could have sworn he was hallucinating you after such a long period of not having to deal with you and your annoyances. But then you blinked, scowled deeper at him, and curled your lip.

“Welcome to Fawny Rig.”

Dream hadn’t uttered a single word or sound since waking up in the glass cage with you. Hadn’t answered to Burgess’ demands when the mortal had come to make them. Hadn’t commented when Burgess turned to you and taunted you with freedom, you had just rolled your eyes and looked the other way. Now you were nodding off, so he followed you. You had been on his mind on and off over the last century, the incident in 1815 notwithstanding. Your anger and rage at the Endless was still palpable ever after all these years.

He suppose he deserved your anger, but he believed that nothing he had said that night was wrong. He did see you as promiscuous as you were close with many and at times flirty, and your tongue was sharp and wicked. No one else in all of creation clashed with him like you did, not even his sibling Desire. It was infuriating. Materializing in your dream, Dream was surprised to find himself in a familiar place. The same estate in which you and he had your explosive encounter in 1815. What had caused your consciousness to think of this?

Him, most likely, but the Endless wasn’t smart enough to think of that.

It wasn’t hard for Morpheus to track you down, you were the only one existing other than he within your dreams. So walking the corridors, he happened upon a back balcony where you were standing. Your back was to him and face turned upward, gazing at the luminous full moon overhead.

“Is it not enough that now I must see your face every day?” You grumpily complained, not bothering to look at him. Dream’s eye twitched at your words because was he not Dream of the Endless. It was by his powerthat you had the ability to dream in the first place!

“I see that your tongue is still just as wild as the last night I reluctantly spent in your presence, Maga.” You shot a glare over your shoulder, eyes connecting with thunderous blue.

“And I see that you are still a loathsome creature without an ounce of compassion or dignity!” You hissed at him, eyes flashing. “Or do you take pleasure in ruining a woman’s hard earned reputation in front of an audience?”

“I spoke nothing but the truth,” Dream spoke to you, his chin lifting while his eyes glittered with anger. Insolence and insult from you yet again.

“Yes, the truth of how you see me!” You snapped at him. “But have you considered how your insidious words might affect me in the long term? I had a life in England until you ruined it! You are nothing but a big bully who throws words around when you don’t get your way!”

Now that really made Dream angry, but you didn’t remain in place to experience his blow up. It had been far too long since you had been able to dream like this and you just wanted to rest. He called your name but you just ignored him. Surely he would understand that you just wanted to be left alone. At the very least the irate Endless could indeed feel that you wanted to be left alone… but his curiosity of how you ended up in that decrepit basement. So he followed silently behind you as you made your way to a bedroom in the large estate. Lingering in the doorway, Dream stared at your back in distaste, trying to remember why he disliked you in the first place. He couldn’t remember.

He walked over to the foot of the bed and glared at you further, thinking back to the first time he had met you. Surely something within his memories would trigger the reason for his great dislike for you. He found no immediate memory, just those of your torture at the hands of the witch trials and saving you, the brief visits you had within his realm, and— Dream was distracted by wounds dotting your wrists. Eyes sharpening on the wounds, Dream’s eyes followed the signs of restraint. They were far from new and were in varying stages of healing. Then his eyes found the lingering blood on your chin and lip. Someone had struck you. Who would dare to strike a witch of your caliber and standing? Roderick Burgess no doubt, he had no shortage of gall and greed.

Your guards figured out early on that you and Dream did not like each other. You two squabbled with your eyes and facial expressions, well you mouthed off to him in a one sided conversation for Dream never said a word… but you appeared to understand each and every twitch of facial muscle the Endless made. It was rather impressive and yet, Burgess got nothing he demanded from Dream. He still got his power from you, yes, he never failed to siphon that… but get Dream to obey his demands? Absolutely not.

After your last shouting match you had purposefully squirmed yourself around so you were cramped against the glass with your back to the Endless. You were refusing to look at him and the Endless refused to acknowledge your presence. Gods the Endless annoyed you to the core! Why did you have to be trapped in this stupid cage with him, it was driving you insane!! You growled under your breath and slumped further against Dream’s hard shoulder. Superficial arsehole.

The years had come and go, and after nearly a decade of being trapped with him, your digs at each other had slowly ebbed. Boredom, of course, was on the forefront. But you spent a lot of time with what little magic Burgess left you with maintaining your body so you didn’t waste away to a skeleton. You had already lost a decent amount of weight, your hipbones were pronounced and the vertebrae of your spine were all very prominent. Even Dream found your state uncomfortable to look at, but with you constantly presenting your back in refusal to look at him he had nothing else to look at. You were counting the number of times the guard threw a ball against the side of the stone wall when Roderick came down for his monthly siphoning.

The elderly man, not having aged a day since summoning Dream, strode into the room and settled his eyes on you. You were back to being a sullen and pouting wench, subdued by your current predicament. But he knew that at the drop of a hat you’d turn into a fiery hellcat and spit crude insults at any who dared to gaze upon you. Your wicked side was merely laying in wait, slumbering. Burgess prepared himself for siphoning your magic, muttering the incantation beneath his breath for he had memorized it by now. With the spell activated, he walked to the edge of the summoning circle and stared at you.

Your shoulder jerked a little as the meager amount of magic you had regained flowed out of your body and to the mock wizard. Grunting as the strain of over siphoning made your limbs twitch you hunched in place and struggled to grasp at what magic you could keep for yourself. Not much, regretfully. Your fingers clenched against the skin of your chest, for the pain you felt there was not new to you but still just as uncomfortable as it was the first time he’d stolen your magic.When the last few embers of your magic floated free from your soul and traveled into Burgess’ chest, you let out a strained wheeze and slumped in a weak ball against the glass. How did you have any magic left to give now? Your weakness was making it hard for your body to recuperate the magic lost.

As you lay limp as a rag doll with labored breaths, trembling ever so slightly, Burgess turned his gaze to Dream. He had a deal for the Endless, surely Dream would be happier without you there to snarl and argue with him.

“I have a deal for you, Dream,” He spoke, cold eyes observing the Endless. He was sitting with his ankles crossed and arms hanging over his knees. He hadn’t moved from that spot in decades despite you squirming around next to him. Dream couldn’t help but raise his eyes to the mortal. What would he try to bargain with this time? “I will let the witch go, if you bring back my son.” Dream almost laughed at Burgess’ words. He’d release you if he brought his son back? That wasn’t happening, it would never happen. Even if Dream could bring his son back. A brief look of disgust flickered across Dream’s face and that was all the answer the mortal needed.

The Endless would let you rot next to him rather than do anything to help Burgess.

“You are positively the worst,” Your voice croaked from where you had your forehead pressed against cool glass. “I hope you know that Dream. The. Worst.” He’d take that over you getting a win in any day.

Something in the air had changed. It was a palpable feeling you’d woken up to this morning and it had kept you on edge since. Your boney back had leaned heavily into Dream’s shoulder as you looked upwards at the eaves overhead. Something was off. Something didn’t belong. You just didn’t know what. The dust that floated in the air vibrated with a different frequency, one that wasn’t of this world. If only you weren’t so weak you could have pinpointed out what it was! Despite your uncertainty of what was going on, you decided to voice your thoughts since the guards post was empty.

“Something has changed.” Your words brought Dream out of his internal thoughts. His eyes opened and he stared ahead at the empty guards table. Nothing appeared to be different, but your senses had always been exceptional. Even with you in a weakened state. He said nothing, of course, but silently acknowledged your words. Now on alert, Dream scanned the empty basement slowly. Nothing was out of place. The something fluttering at the gate to the room caught his attention.

Like a beacon of light, Jessamy wormed her way through an opening in the wrought iron and perched on it, heading cocking side to side as she examined her Lord and Master in his glass cage. Of course she also noticed you laying limp next to him, but her concentration was on her master. The raven fluttered into the room and swooped up to the cage, banging herself and beak against thick glass to break it. Hope combined with happiness filled Dream’s face as he rose to his feet. You simply rolled your head to look up at Jessamy, glad that someone knew you were down in this decrepit basement.

Hope was beginning to bloom in your chest, for you hadn’t been this close to freedom since capture. But just as soon as that swelling feeling grew within your bosom it came crashing down. There was a loud crack that shattered Jessamy’s attempts to break the glass and before you knew it black and red was splattered against the cage. You gasped with a stricken sound catching in your throat. Oh gods, Jessamy… Alex Burgess was standing several paces behind with a gun raised. Your eyes burned because while you might have a particular distaste for her master, she was a good acquaintance. Now she was gone.

You watched as Dream slowly lowered himself back to the floor of the cage, unaltered shock plastered on his features. It was like he was still trying to process what had just happened. But his eyes… Oh you could see the tears quickly gathering and something within you cracked. Burgess came bursting into the room in a fit of rage, shouting at his son for potentially breaking the glass that kept you and Dream trapped. But you were entirely focused on Dream. You’d never seen him cry, you didn’t even think it was possible for an Endless to cry. But the devastation on his face wasn’t a fluke or a trick of the light, tears were flooding his lashes and his nose was beginning to run.

Even the great Dream of the Endless was capable of ugly crying? You were moving before you even realized what you were doing.

Boney arms reaching for the Endless, you pulled him to you and tucked his face away from prying eyes. Your fingers absentmindedly found themselves stroking his midnight hair while you began murmuring several death rites for Jessamy. She had been an exceptional companion to Dream and clearly the Endless had cared for her. She hadn’t deserved to be killed in such a way. Mid rites, you felt Dream shift within your arms and thought that he might lash out at you for daring to touch him so intimately… but rather than do as expected he leaned into your embrace in a slump.

You nearly started crying yourself the moment you felt his tears drip onto your skin. He’d never been this vulnerable in front of you before. No, you were sure that he’d never been this vulnerable ever. You ought to be happy to be experiencing something so rare, or even happy that he was hurting after all the social destruction he’d caused you… but all you could feel was pain in your heart because it had only come because of a death. The basement which had always been cold, damp, and dark, was now a tomb marred with blood and death. You found that you hated the way Dream trembled within your arms, and for each tear he shed, your hatred for the Burgess’ grew.

Burgess’ death had ben anticlimactic and incredibly disappointing. You had wanted him to burn for thousands of years for the pain and anguish he had caused Dream, and for his imprisonment of you. He’d gotten off far too easily dying from just a head injury. He deserved so much worse. So much worse. It was your only hope that he had ended up in hell where he belonged. You would have looked on the bright side if Alex hadn’t decided on taking over his fathers job siphoning your magic.

He feared that you’d grow to powerful if left unchecked.

Your lack of magic was beginning to seriously take a toll on your body. Without a steady source of magic to supplement the nutritional intake you’d normally have, your body was taking muscle and fat from you. If Dream thought seeing the vertebrate more pronounced was disturbing, it was nothing compared to your entire spinal column. That’s why you’d gone back to sitting side by side with him, to hide just how depleted your body was becoming after over a decade of imprisonment. You often rested your head on his shoulder when fatigue overtook you and were lucky that t he Endless allowed such a thing. With tiredness ruling within your mind and body, you decided to close your eyes for just a moment to rest them.

The grounds of the witch trials greeted your eyes, and a sharp tingle of fear ran up your spine for but a moment. Even after two centuries had gone by, the memories of your experience at the hands of the crazed people and witch hunters still haunted you. You still had the brand of the christian cross upon your shoulder. The old mark burned in memory and your rubbed your shoulder as it ached. Sometimes when the memories were strong enough you could swear you smelled the scent of your flesh burning as the red hot iron cross was pressed into your flesh. Your eye twitched.

Why were you having this dream? Why were you remembering these horrors now?

Refusing to look at the gallows where the noose swung ominously, you turned in the direction of your old home. After crossing the ocean on a colony ship, you’d taken to assisting the local doctor. Many colonists fell sick after making the voyage and you had faithfully tended to and nursed them back to health. You had given the Salem community nothing but kindness and what had you gotten in return? The witch trials. The people you had come to care for and love, had turned on you in a blink of an eye.

Technically speaking, you were a witch. But never in all your years of living had you ever considered using your magic to do harm. Why would you wish to uproot and ruin the happy life you had? Nonetheless you had been branded a witch (literally), and set to hang with the other ‘guilty’. You were the only witch in Salem.

You found yourself in your small home, everything exactly as you remembered. Your basket of medical supplies sat by the door, the hearth with its pot hanging above waiting to be used for dinner, your bed. You touched the threadbare blanket. It was just as scratchy as you remembered, but it had kept you warm. Your hand went to the rough fabric of the waistcoat you wore. You’d forgotten how hot it was to wear the full outfit. So you began stripping yourself of the thick materials, your waistcoat going first, then your dress. Now just standing in your simple shift, you let your hair down from its tightly pinned position and shook it out.

“Can’t say I enjoyed the rigid customs but life was quite peaceful for a time,” You mused to yourself, exiting your old home and heading to the nearby river. On Saturdays the women of Salem always did the laundry for the week and during the summer months it was nice to cool off in the water. This dream was making you feel hot and a nice cool down with a dip in the river sounded nice. Your feet followed the path to the river on automatic, even after over two hundred years you still knew it like the back of your hand.

The river was cold. It always had been. But it was a nice break from the heat you felt. The ends of your shift were rapidly soaked and pressed against your skin as you sloshed further into the river. It was funny how even the rocks at the bottom of the crystal water still looked exactly the same. Walking until you were waist deep, you shifted a few stone not he river bottom with your foot. It was strange that you were in a dream. Dream had been locked in a subdued and moroseful state that hadn’t changed since Jessamy’s death. You hadn’t had a dream since then, so why were you having one now?

“Best not to question and simply enjoy,” You stated pragmatically before dunking yourself beneath the water. Floating for a few moments beneath the chilly water, you let yourself relax and just stay hunched in place. The current were you were was fairly weak so you didn’t have to use much effort staying in one place. Standing back up, you pushed your hand over your wet hair. While you were observing the fading sun on the horizon, the dream around you shuddered for a moment. Then the sun disappeared and the entire dream darkened to nightmare.

Your head swirled to the land behind you which the disturbance had originated, and you saw a thunderous looking Dream standing behind you. What had gotten his knickers in a twist? This was your dream, what could you possibly dream of that would make him so upset?

“Dream, you’re disturbing the peace,” You quietly announced, attempting a soft pointer given his rather fragile state. His glowing eyes flickered for a few moments, then faded back to starry blue and the dream returned to its normal. As the summer heat returned, you observed the being closer to figure out what had caused him to go all ‘Endless’ on you in a dream. He still looked enraged, barely containing it behind his pretty blue eyes, his jaw locked, even his fists were clenched. “Dream?” You prompted him again, hugging your arms around your body because you were as good as naked in front of him and unlike he, you did care about people seeing your naked body.

His lashes flickered and eyes narrowed.

“You never spoke of bodily harm,” His voice came out rasping and deep, echoing the emotional turmoil you could feel and see. What was he talking about? Your apparent confusion to his words only made the Endless scowl at you. “The mark upon your shoulder, Maga,” He growled darkly, stepping closer to the rivers edge. “You never spoke of them hurting you.”

Your mind went blank as you processed his words. He was… angry that you’d been hurt? Well he wasn’t just angry at this point. He was enraged at the idea. Your face screwed up some and you half turned in place so your neck wasn’t screeching at you for the unnatural strain you were causing it.

“There was no need. You stopped my hanging, what more did you need to know past that?” You questioned, still very confused about why he would be so upset by the mark of an injury that had happened over two hundred years ago. It had long since healed. For some reason Dream got angrier at your words. Once more he took more steps, closing in on the river. “You didn’t even need to stop them from hanging me in the first place. Why would I tell you about them branding me?”

Dream’s eye twitched as he furiously questioned in his mind why you hadn’t informed him of what the morals had done to you.

“They hurt you,” He reiterated, stressing out the word hurt like it would explain his reasoning to be upsetto you. It did not, but you didn’t want to pick a fight with him when you had been on such cordial terms with him.

“It was over two centuries ago, Dream,” You answered him, resting your hands against your chest and looking own at your fingers. You remembered how bloody they had been after being beaten by the towns people. “I’ve long since put that in my past.”

It seemed that no matter what you told the Endless, he was still very upset over the fact that you had been hurt in the witch trials... so you decided to shift the conversation because the breeze was making you chilled.

“If you wouldn’t mind, Dream, would you please turn around?” You asked, looking down at your wet body. The white shift was still very much see-through. Dream titled his head to the side, his face telling you that he didn’t understand why you were asking for such a thing. “My shift is wet and very much see though at the moment.”

Dream didn’t understand why you should ever feel the need to be self conscious over your naked body but did as you asked. When his back was to you, you sloshed your way back towards the rivers edge. Once there, you carefully stepped towards the path leading back to your home. However, Dream heard you heading away from him and promptly turned around.

“You asked me to turn around and then design to sneak off?” He questioned, eyes boring into your back and lingering on the branded cross on your shoulder. You froze in step.

“I am in my shift that is currently see through, Dream,” You reminded him stiffly. “I’m not in presentable attire to be speaking with you at the moment. If you wish to continue conversation you are going to have to wait until I am dressed accordingly.”

Dream, while having innumerous patience, simply could not find the ability to be so at the moment and strode up to you, coat in hand. He dropped it around your shoulders and continued walking towards your home.

“We will be finishing this conversation whether or not you believe yourself to be in presentable clothing.” He stated, striding confidently ahead. You stared agape at his back, fingers clutching the star laden coat around your shoulders. Finishing this conversation? You still didn’t understand why he was so upset over a brand you’d gotten two hundred years prior, but followed him nonetheless.

It was nice to just talk with Dream of the Endless, rather than fight.

Holding up a facade of okay health had taken every bit of your concentration. What magic that ran thorough your blood now went entirely to preserving your life the best it could. You stopped counting the years after fifty. It was pointless as Alex was so fearful of what Dream would do should he let the Endless out, that there was zero hope of you getting out of your cage. So you just stuck to developing a non aggressive relationship with Dream, and it was… nice. More than nice actually. You got to see the other side of the Endless you hadn’t seen before.

It had to have been a century by the time Alexander Burgess made his last visit to the decrepit basement of Fawny Rig. He was old, frail, and nothing like the youthful boy who had murdered Jessamy. You knew he’d spent most of his life tormented by the knowledge that you and Dream sat in this cage in the basement of his home. A bitter satisfaction came from that knowledge, and yet, you couldn’t help but pity the man for being so weak. Overshadowed by his older brother to the very end. A fitting ending for the Burgess lineage.

As Alex spoke his last word and sat back down in his wheelchair, Paul began to push him away from the cage. Less than a second went by and you felt a massive ripple of power run through you. You jerked where you sat, holding in the gasp that wanted to crawl from your throat, and looked at Paul. He was looking back at you, and then at the ground. Following his gaze, your eyes widened when you spotted the clear break in the circle binding both you and Dream in place. Gods above. Your eyes didn’t shift back to Paul’s as he wheeled Alex out. A broken circle meant that Dream had a grasp on his power, a broken circle meant that you could use your own magic outside of your body!

A tremble began in your body as you forced yourself to remain calm and silent. Nearly 110 years of captivity and freedom was within your grasp because of Paul? You knew that Dream could also feel the change in your captivity, the muscles you could feel against your body had gone rigid the moment the circle had been broken. He knew he had his chance and without a doubt would be taking it. Hunching in a ball, you began murmuring all the incantations for low level teleportation magic. You didn’t know if you had enough magic to complete even an entry level spell, but you’d take which ever spell got you out of this place.

While you were concentrating, you felt the sands of Endless magic caressing your skin. Then gunshots and yelling, glass shattering, one of your spells activated and your eyes flickered open in triumph. Fingers clasped tightly together, the last you saw of Fawny Rig was unconscious guards and the glowing aura of a seething Endless. You’d never seen him so angry, so enraged. Your fight or flight instincts kicked in and your mind echoed one thought and one thought only: run.

Date Published: 10/5/23

Last Edit: 10/5/23

Masterlist | Next

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

#kinktober 2023 #kinktober #lazyghoulskinktober2023 #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #morpheus #dream the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #the sandman netflix #dream the endless #sandman x reader

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inkmonster21 · 7 months ago

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Sing for Me

5. Devoted to You

Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader / The Ghoul x Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen

We pull up to the Howard residence. Each step of the entrance was familiar under my feet. The once relaxing walls now filled shoulder to shoulder with pricks. It’s lively, with music playing and guests exchanging conversation. I didn’t seem to recognize many people majority of them being Vault Tech employees. Louis grabs a couple of drinks before dragging Heather and her boyfriend away to meet people.

“This ain’t much of a party. Looks like a big business deal.” Johnny notes. I shake my head in disappointment. “This party sucks. Just wait until you come to the after-parties of the tour. They’re so fun.” Johnny smirks as he swipes two glasses of whisky. I hate whisky. Cooper would’ve never gotten me a glass of whiskey. He knows my favorite wine and would have it on tap waiting for me.

We made acquaintance with a few people on the camera crew. One happened to be an assistant on the set of a music video I made a while back. “I LOVED that song!” She sings it drunkenly causing me to laugh. I took pictures with several of the Vault Tech employees mimicking my famous Nuka Cola pose. Little by little the night eased with the whiskey. I was relaxed. Given it had something to do with the amount of drugs and alcohol in my system but I’ll take happiness as it comes.

Now outside in the large gazebo in the garden we loudly socialize. Johnny sits smoking away, Heather and her boyfriend are all cuddling up talking to some other couple, Louis is in the middle sweet-talking some businessman for all he’s worth, and here I am swaying drunkenly to a song in my head in the middle of the freshly cut grass.

I spot a familiar figure exiting the house. The skinny guy walking down our way. “My piano man! Henry!” I laugh with open arms beckoning him into a hug. His face is bright red as he pulls away. “(Y/n), it… it’s so good to see you. I didn’t think you would remember me.”

“Friends, this is Henry MacLean. He can play the piano like no other. On the spot too!” My group welcomes him in nicely, all of us too buzzed to give a damn. Johnny stands with a smile, “there’s a piano inside.” I look at him and scoff, “Ah, don’t make me sing.”

Henry shrugs, certainly not going to turn down the opportunity to play for me. “I can play by ear,”

“You should've heard her earlier in the shower. She was singing this beautiful song. I had never heard it before.” Heather says as she leans up. “That’s because it’s unreleased. I’m still working on it. It’s a new project.” Heather frowned, “it was so beautiful but sounded so sad.” I shrug, “All my songs can't be happy.” Especially when all I can compose is depressing ballads. The only emotion I can feel when I try to write a song is want, and an ache burns in my chest. I want Cooper. I dream of a life where we were together. I love him, and I forever will. I am bound to him as roots are to a tree. Never seen, hidden beneath the beautiful growth of nature.

Johnny tosses his arm over my shoulders. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.”

I walk down the steps leading to the pool, “Excuse me. Your wine.” I place my cigarette in the glass before passing the waitress and sitting in front of my friend, “Well, shit, Seabass. You might be the only one of my invites who actually showed up.” He nods with a small smile. “Not all true, (y/n) seems to be having a swell time.” I look in the direction of his gesture. She’s swaying in the grass barefoot, without a care. A pure beauty in the mixture of facade company. I would give anything to go over to her, sweep her off her feet, and drag her to the bedroom. Peppering her skin with kisses as I make up for the time I have lost with her.

I suck in a breath, returning to the conversation at hand. “Not our usual scene, I’ll give you that.” He hums with a flat smile, “I think our Hollywood actor friends don’t want to be seen celebrating with the pitchman for the end of the world.” I shake my head, “Oh, you don’t know the half of it. You hear I lost a movie over these ads?” He looks at me in all seriousness, “No.” “Yeah, showed up to set, the actors wouldn’t come out of their trailers. Bonnie Lewis said it was on moral grounds.”

He scoffs, “Bonnie Lewis? She’s done more ads than a fucking billboard.”

At that point, I couldn’t help but hear the annoying voice of (y/n)‘s friend. “Come on everyone, Miss America here is going to sing us a song.” They trail past us, his arm thrown over her shoulder so casually. He smiles at me as they pass. She avoided all eye contact. I may not be able to touch her, but I can still allow myself the pleasure of watching her perform, especially since I am the host. It would be rude of me to not attend.

We stand in the large living room, Johnny clinking his glass catching everyone's attention. "If I could have everyone's attention!" All eyes on us, Johnny holds me out at arm's distance. "Who wants to hear my girl sing?" The applause begins, as it always does. Henry sits at the piano I lean over humming the intro to him. I turn back to the crowd, and I see him. Clad in a black shirt his hair brushed and jelled to perfection. I intake a brethe. The corner of his lip twitches, threatening a smile.

"Well, this is a very special night. I'm so thankful to Vault Tech for looking toward the future and keeping us American citizens safe. As a token of gratitude, I would like to perform a song that I've been working on. I hope you enjoy." I end the speech looking into Cooper's eyes, this song was for him after all. The piano starts slow, I take a deep breath in begin to sing.

"Guess mine is not the first heartbroken

My eyes are not the first to cry

I'm not the first to know

There's just no getting over you"

Cooper watches intensely as I sing. I look towards him touching my chest.

"I know I'm just a fool who's willing

To sit around and wait for you

But baby, can't you see there's nothing else for me to do?

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I was devoted to him. Even if I were to date someone, hell even marry them. I wouldn't ever be able to let go of my feelings for him. I burned for him, I craved him, I couldn't live without him.

"But now there's nowhere to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm out of my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

He took a step forward, beckoning to my call, to my song, to my soul. I was indeed out of my head for him. I was trying to replace the missing touches and whispers with drugs and alcohol. He was my cure. Sadly, he was unreachable. So all I could do was fall deeper down into the hole, only dreaming of him.

"My head is sayin', "Fool, forget him"

My heart is sayin', "Don't let go

Hold on to the end", that's what I intend to do

I'm hopelessly devoted to you"

I would wait for him, in this world, or the next. Maybe we got the timing wrong, but one thing was true. Our souls were meant to love one another. Cooper stares at me as a starved man looks at his first meal. Moving closer to the stage he acts as a lion, priding through his field, coming to take what belongs to him.

"But now there's no way to hide

Since you pushed my love aside

I'm outta my head

Hopelessly devoted to you"

I lean down, reaching out, directing my attention to Cooper. Silently, begging him to grasp my hand, hold me tight, and tell me everything was okay. One more step would be all it takes for us to be in the vicinity. "Hopelessly devoted to you," Cooper nods, understanding my message. I would wait for him. Unhealthy, and toxic, but I would do it just for him.

Applause rings out loudly breaking my trance. I back away from Cooper, now feeling the tears in my eyes. I smile at everyone, waving as I exit the living room, dashing for the door. The overwhelming emotions threatened to tip over. I was spiraling, without him. My soul was starving without its flame.

I made it down the driveway until a hand caught my wrist. "Stop, honey. For me, please." I turn to see Cooper. His finger curled around my wrist softly. Tears flowing down my cheeks I attempted to tear my arm from his grasp. I was drowning in a sea of emotions. I didn’t know if I wanted to yell at him or throw myself into his arms. He keeps his grip firm, placing his other hand on my bicep. “(Y/n)”, he breathes out as if I’m a dream.

I feel myself filling with rage, tears still streaming down my face. “What? What the fuck could you possibly have to say to me?” He stays silent, eyes begging, but I continue to chastise him. “You used me. You disrespected me. You coaxed my feelings, hopes, and dreams out. You learned how I ticked, and you used me to your advantage. So, please tell me, Cooper,” his mouth slightly gaping, he draws in closer. “What the fuck do you have to say now?”

Cooper pushes me against the wall of the entrance gate, shielded by the trees. His hands attach to my waist with force. Our foreheads together, our lips begging to touch. He licks his lips, never looking away from my eyes. “I… I'm sorry. Honey, I’m so sorry.” He grapples onto my body, holding me close. Pressed firmly against him I shutter. I shake my head, my thoughts fighting against the moment. “Cooper, we, we can’t. Your wife-“

“I love you.”

Cooper stares at me with overflowing eyes. So much pent-up emotion and passion was threatening to release. He breathes me in, trailing his nose up my neck, “I love you, (y/n).” Our lips hover over each other. I hold every restraint I can. I sigh in disbelief, I want it to be true, I’ve dreamed of this. Hearing those words spoken from his mouth. “I love you.” He says it again, almost in realization. He stares into my soul, allowing his to reach in and cradle my lonely heart. He massages my waist, a choked breath leaving his body, “say something, darlin’.”

I bring my hands to his chest, clawing at his shirt. “Coop, you’re married.” He shakes his head, “I’ll leave.” I scoff, “you said that before.” He holds my cheek with one hand, his other wrapped securely around my waist. “I will, I promise. I… I can’t lose you. Fuck if I lose everything else, I won’t lose you.”

He leans in with force, sealing our lips together. this moment it feels like fate. His hands move from my waist to the sides of my face, cradling my cheeks with surprising gentleness. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything I wanted. Our hands roaming across each other, he pushes me deeper into the metal gate. I moan out, shaking for him.

“(Y/n)?” I jump back at Louis’ voice. He’s walking down the driveway looking left and right. I move to leave, but Cooper pulls me back. Hands still on my cheek he nuzzled our noses together. “(Y/n), please, give me time.”

I smile, pulling him down once more, “I would wait 200 hundred years to love you, Cooper Howard.” His charming smile lights up the night. I slip away from him and catch up with Louis as he slips into the car. “Where did you run off to?” I watch the tree line near the gate, Cooper stands, hand sun his pants pockets as he watches me. “Just to get some air.”

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #fallout #fallout imagine #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard fallout #fallout ghoul #walton goggins

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shiuefha · 6 months ago

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And here it is, the moment of truth...

His wife was a kind woman, so of course, Martha didn't want to be a homewrecker.

She even helped Martha so that she could perform onstage again.😭

I can't hate Lucia either. She's just too perfect.😭

Ah, now I noticed that all this time, Martha kept referring to Henry as 'He' while she explained the story to Becky, even though she finally realized who 'He' was.

But wait. So Martha also fought in the second war as well? That's unexpected.

I bet they met at the graveyard to visit Lucia's grave there, because if she was alive, I don't think she would be absent from the gala, and Henry would definitely dance with her instead.

And yeah, we finally reach the end of this arc, and the next chapter will be released next month. I can understand that Endo-sensei really needs a break after writing such a heavy arc like this one, so I don't care if I should wait a bit longer only to read it. Hopefully, it'll be a continuation of what we left off in chapter 96 (Anya's confession to Damian, everyone?), but it also will be good if the next chapter is about the school vacation.

However, that's all for now.

#personal post #personal thoughts #spy x family #spy x family manga #spy x family manga spoilers #chapter 102 #martha marriott #henry henderson #lucia henderson #becky blackbell #no mention of the first meeting with the Blackbells but this chapter is still good

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sophiamarieispinkbunny-chan · 1 year ago

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Yor and Anya could both be of Royal Ancestry in Ostania. (Long Post Again, Sorry!)

It has a little connection to the first theory I’ve post about Yor being a subject of Project Apple. You can read it here.

Just some take I have on this scene on Chapter 4 (Because it always makes me wonder)

Notice how the three of them immediately caught Henderson’s attention just by walking? Like they haven’t done anything remarkable yet Henry said he could sense some elegance in them. It was only them that he pointed out. I can’t help but think about the reason why Henderson said this.

My take is that the three of them used to be part of elite and prestigious families.

Loid’s family in the West, in Luwen, seems to be well off judging by the way they dress, their home, and his father’s job seems to be important too.

But if it wasn’t the case, Loid can still be elegant because he strived to be perfect in everything he does. He was trained how to act elegantly in order to blend in with other people. But I stick by my theory that he came from a rich family from the West.

But being elegant wasn’t taught to Anya and Yor. It’s like for both of them, they had that tinge of elegance in their blood.

Then come through this theory about Anya being a part of monarch/royalty. If that theory is true then that must be the reason why Henderson saw something with Anya.

Then how about Yor? She also came from a prominent family. I’m going to make a wild guess that she’s also a monarch. A hidden monarch like my theory with Anya.

I would like to consider her back story to be the same as Sleeping Beauty or Little Briar Rose since it is evident that this fairytale inspired most of Yor’s characters (The needle like weapon, her surname, the roses). So what if the royal family were the first ones that have these abilities? The first experiments, after the monarchy was taken down, are the remaining members of the monarch family.

But her parents took them and hid them faraway where no harm would ever come to them, just like how the fairies kept Aurora hidden in the forest, keeping the fact that she’s a princess/royal. But at the end of the day, despite them keeping her away from the spindle, the needle (being used because of her ability) she still ended up taking the bait in the end after they died (Like how Aurora still ended up getting pricked by spindle despite all her parents’/kingdom’s parents effort to protect her).

Yor has been under a curse since then, like asleep and paralyzed, devoid of emotions. But then, came the prince who saved her life and made living worth it for her again (If she never married Loid, I really think she would just accept death in that cruise arc battle he had with that Katana guy).

Ah! just think if Loid’s real name has something with Philip, the same as Briar Rose/Aurora’s Prince’s name in the Disney movie! What if it’s also a surname like Yor BRIAR. Loid could be James (From 007 James Bond) and Philip, James Philip! Just imagine, it would be genius right? Loid’s name could be anything though, but I would totally flip it was that, just the parallel and the complement of his real name to Yor!

Anyway moving on….

If Yor is also a monarch like Anya then does that mean that she’s blood related to Anya? That is what I don’t have a theory about. Maybe if I have the time, I’ll reread the manga from the start again and find some details that can help me elaborate this theory or debunk it.

These are all speculations of mine that I wanted to share. Thoughts that I can’t help but think of regarding what could be Yor’s backstory because we know nothing besides her parents both died when they were kids and that was all.

I know these might be far-fetched and don't make sense and the story can’t be that complicated but hey, the possibility of these being canon is not zero.

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m-jelly · 20 days ago

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Late night snack - Chapter 8

Vampire Levi x human reader

You go to a club with Levi. What seems like fun at first soon turns into a nightmare for you. Levi saves you and takes care of you as you recover in hospital.

Slight warning. Reader is captured and fed upon a lot in part of this chapter and saved by Levi. Please be aware and skip if needed.

Ao3

Part 9

Levi smiled as you sat on his thigh. He played with your hair a bit as you looked so adorable to him. He placed his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing against your skin. He leaned closer and kissed you as his hand slipped further up the inside of your thigh. He smiled when you mewled in delight at feeling his fingers lightly brush your clothed heat.

You leaned your head back and panted as he nipped and sucked your neck. You tangled your fingers in his hair right as his fangs sank into your neck and he moved his fingers against your clit. All you could do was rock your hips against Levi’s touch. You had done intimate things with Levi in many places, but you’d never done naughty things in his limo.

Levi pulled from your neck and lapped up the blood trickling from the wound. “That’s it, my love, give in to pleasure.”

You panted a little as you felt your coil tighten. “Levi.” You mewled. “You’re so hungry for me.”

“That’s because you’re so delicious and a delight to play with.” He tapped his forehead against yours. “I could be with you every single moment possible.”

You gasped when you felt the gentle pop and your pleasures burn through all of you. You softly moaned in delight. “Mm.”

Levi licked up the last of your blood, and then his fingers. “Your blood and cum is incredible.”

You took his hand from your thighs and showered it with kisses. “You’re more delicious. I love you, Levi.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait either.”

You shifted on his lap. “Henri has helped me design a dress.”

“I’m glad you’re getting help. I’m surprised you haven’t asked Theodore.”

“Well, he makes things too expensive. People can’t afford it.” You whined. “I just want a simple dress with a few vampire touches. I like Theodore, but I worry about money.”

Levi caressed your cheek. “I understand.”

You looked over to the glass window where the driver was behind. “Um, he didn’t hear did he?”

“No, that glass is bulletproof and thick, we’re fine.”

You relaxed against Levi. “Good.”

Levi wrapped his arms around you. “So, talk to me, my bunny, why did you want to go out?”

You smiled at him. “I wanted to drink, dance a little and have fun with the man I’m going to marry.” You squeezed his cheeks with one hand. “Is that a bad thing?”

He leaned closer and kissed you. “Absolutely not. You can do anything you want, my love, as long as you bring me along.”

“I’ll always bring you along.” You gasped. “Unless I’m buying you a gift, then you’re not allowed to come with me.”

He pouted a bit. “Mean.”

“I’m incredibly mean.” You turned and straddled him. You shifted a bit and sighed. “I’m the meanest there is. Super mean. Can you really let this mean bunny be your wife?”

He held your hips and smiled. “I think I can.”

You purred at him as you leaned closer. “You sure?”

“Yes, because I can be meaner.”

You titled your head and sighed. “Tell me.”

He lightly rubbed his lips against yours. “Does it turn you on to know that the man you fuck often has hurt, broken and killed people?”

You let out a whimper before looking away. “S-Sorry, I didn’t mean to let that out.”

He chuckled. “So you are turned on. Beautiful.”

You looked over at the door when it opened. “Ah! We’re here!”

Levi grabbed you before you could climb out. “Easy, bunny, don’t go hopping away yet. I have to check it it’s safe first.” He slipped out of the car and checked. “Looks good.” He turned and helped you out. “No naughty people about.”

You hummed a laugh as he held you close. “You’re wrong though, there are naughty people about.”

He frowned. “What? Where?”

“Us.”

He chuckled. “You’re cute.” He walked with you up the stairs and inside his club. He shielded you a little from onlookers until he reached the VIP section. “Take a seat and I’ll get you a drink.”

You sat and looked around the club, it was nice deep base music and a bit rock-like. The music was infectious and wonderful to you, you really liked it and just wanted to get up and dance. You watched people dance and move against others, it was such a free and loving club with a lot of safety things put in place. It was admirable how Levi and Erwin worked together to make places that were fun and safe for others.

You squeaked when you felt something cold on your neck. You looked up to see Levi pull the drink away. “Oh, thank you.”

He handed you the glass and sat next to you. “You were in a deep daze, huh?”

“I was just admiring your club.” You hugged your glass with your hands after taking a sip. “Mm, this is perfect.”

“I’m glad.” He reached over and wiped your bottom lip. “It’s called the forbidden fruit.” He tilted his head. “I made you have the forbidden fruit.”

You felt your heart race. “Mm, you did. Does that mean I’m yours for eternity?”

“Yes.”

You downed your drink. “Good.”

He kissed you and purred in delight. “You’re tasty.”

“Thank you.” You placed your glass down. “Wanna dance with me?”

He hummed. “I’m not much of a dancer.”

You held his hands and pulled him with you. “Come on. Just for a little bit.”

Levi pulled you against him and started slow dancing with you. “This is the only kind I know and I’m good at.”

“It’s lovely.”

He smiled and kissed you. “I guess I could try dancing in other ways.”

You squealed in delight as he started dancing with you to the music. You rolled your hips and moved your body to get all of Levi’s attention, you always wanted him to be aroused by you. You purred when he pressed himself against you, moved slowly and just enjoyed his body against yours. You leaned your head back against him as he started touching you and kissing you in all the right places.

Levi pulled you to the seats making you pout. “Don’t sulk. I sensed through the blood bond that you needed a drink.”

You hummed. “Could I have a cocktail?”

“Water would be better.”

You whined. “Levi.”

He chuckled. “Okay, okay.” He ordered another cocktail and gave it to you. “Drink this one slowly, okay?”

“Okay.” You smiled and sipped your drink. You wanted to do this for Levi because you knew he worried a lot about you. You understood that it could be hard for him because you are his first and only human girlfriend, so every little thing worried him. “It’s delicious. Thank you.”

He leaned and kissed your cheek. “I’m glad.” He sat with you and pulled you close to him. “Are you having fun?”

“Tones! Thank you.”

He nuzzled your neck before looking up and seeing some vampires and their familiars approach him. “Tch, what?”

You patted Levi’s chest. “Be nice.”

Levi sighed. “How can I help?” He listened lightly at first, but then he listened more intently. “Hmm.” He looked over at you. “I need to deal with this, will you be okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah. I’ll go to the bathroom anyway.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

You sat for a while feeling a little bit bored. You got up and danced, and had another drink before going to the bathroom. You sat on the toilet and felt a bit odd. The club was packed but the bathrooms were empty because most were vampires with no need for these kinds of facilities. You moved to the sink and gazed at yourself for a bit. You released a long sigh and looked down.

As soon as you looked down there was a sharp tiny pain in your neck before the world went black. Your mind was full of Levi and it was like you were dreaming. You slowly woke up, but you felt sick to your stomach and something didn’t feel right inside you. Normally, this warmth inside you let you know you were connected to Levi, but you couldn’t feel him, someone had put a blocker in your body to temporarily stop Levi from feeling you.

You opened your eyes, but it was dark. You shifted and realised what situation you were in. A blindfold was over your eyes preventing you from seeing who had you. Your arms were above your head, wrists connected and clasps locked your wrists in place. It was cold around your wrists, so you suspected it was mental of some kind. Your shoulders were hurting badly, so you tried moving your feet but only the tips of your toes touched what felt like wooden floors.

A shiver ran through you at how cold the room was. You shifted again and felt the movement of fabric against your body making something very clear to you. You were not in your night-out dress, someone had changed you into a short silken dress. The cold began to consume you, mainly because the fear was strong. You wanted Levi to save you, but you knew very well that with your connection to him temporarily blocked, there was no way you could reach him. You had to wait out whatever this person had done to you. As soon as you had a connection to Levi, you would call for him.

The problem was, that you didn’t know how long this suppressant would last.

You tried to get comfortable but every time you moved something hurt inside you, or your wrists got cut up. You whimpered a little as you shifted a bit. Something shot through you like your instincts were screaming at you. Something was in the same room as you. You looked around as you panted and panicked a bit. Your heart raced, but you knew you needed to calm yourself because whoever had kidnapped you was likely a vampire and having your heart race was music to their ears.

You turned your head, your ears straining a little. “Whoever you are, please, let me go. I don’t know what your intention is with me. I don’t know what you’re planning, but I have someone I deeply care about and he’ll be missing me so much.”

The person in the room moved a little as if they were thinking. It was only a moment they considered your words before they started approaching you.

You pulled back from them, but it was useless. “Please.”

They lightly and affectionately touched your tear-stained cheek, this person had to be a stalker of sorts who was deeply delusional about you.

You felt repulsed when they started caressing your body as if they longed for it, but they avoided your intimate areas. “Don’t.”

Their hand stilled a moment at your protest, they considered their actions and really questioned themselves. They snarled in anger before opening their mouth and chomping down roughly on your shoulder.

You screamed out in pain at the sudden bite. Your whole body rejected this vampire, it screamed for the pain to end but they wouldn’t. You panted as they pulled from your shoulder. “Stop.” You screamed as they bit down on your back. “No!” Your body shook as they started biting every inch of your body that was soft and plump. “Stop it!”

They roughly moved your body so your front was facing them. Once you faced them they began biting you all over again.

You thrashed and moved under their touch but no matter what you did you couldn’t escape them. The heat of your blood trickling from your wounds soon turned cold. The coldness you felt was going down to your bones. You were getting weaker, tired and sick.

After your screams and protests stopped, the person stopped biting you and pulled back. Enraged and confused about being rejected by your body, they started smashing the room up around you. They stormed to the door and slammed it shut leaving you alone in the cold room.

You lowered your head and breathed weakly. You fought to stay awake and get some sort of connection to Levi. Your lips felt cracked and your throat sore. As your hope began to fade you saw a light in the darkness. You got sense Levi, it was faint, but it was enough. You weakly clenched your fists and thought of your lover.

You gasped a little. “Le…vi…help.” You shook as you tried to stand. With all your strength you push it into the connection. “Levi. Help me.”

Levi had been panicking about you the whole time. He’d ripped the club apart trying to find you. He interrogated all his friends, but there was no trace of you. Until he felt your weak pleas. Levi connected to you and pushed his power into it and felt pain, deep searing pain and your heart was just about beating.

He snarled and rushed towards where he felt you and arrived at a home on the outskirts of the city. He glared at the wooden cabin as if it was a beast. The door exploded to pieces from the impact of Levi’s boot against it. He screamed your name but heard no reply. He raced around the home until he found you in what was an upstairs bedroom.

Levi’s heart shattered when he saw you strung up by your wrists by chains. Your body was covered in bites and blood had poured out of them. Someone has shoved you into a silken night dress as if it were some sick romantic gesture. He could see the sweat and dirt on your skin. He listened to the link with you as it slowly got stronger, you’d only been fed upon and lightly touched as if this person was trying to hold you close like a lover would.

Levi moved to you and ripped the chains out of the ceiling. He caught your falling body, carefully took you out of the room and lay you on the sofa in the living room. He called Erwin immediately, letting him know where he was so he could get back up. He pulled the cuffs off your wrists to see what were once delicate and kissable wrists were now raw bloodied messes.

Erwin skidded to a stop with Mike at his side. “Levi! You got her?”

Mike sniffed the air. “Doesn’t smell good.”

Levi looked at his friends with pleading eyes. “What do I do?”

Erwin moved closer and looked at you. “Do not give her your blood. She’s lost too much of hers, so if you fed her yours she would turn into a vampire. You don’t want this to be the moment she embraces eternity.”

Levi scooped you up. “Hospital. I need a hospital, now. Where’s the best place for victims of vampires?”

Mike jogged ahead. “Follow me.” He sprinted ahead and stopped at the hospital. “Here. And Levi? Someone used a suppressant on her. They blocked your connection.”

Erwin snarled. “I hate to say this, but this could have been the test run.”

Levi hugged you close. “I think so too.” He looked down at you. “I won’t let anyone else have you or hurt you.”

Levi petted your head as you slept soundly. You’d been in the hospital for a week now and you were getting blood, as well as some medicine. You had woken up and spent the whole time awake clinging to Levi telling him it’s not his fault and you love him. There was comfort in your words, but when you passed out from exhaustion he was left with his cruel thoughts and feelings.

“Levi? Son?”

He cast his exhausted eyes up at his mother and father. “Yes?”

Kuchel moved closer and touched under Levi’s eyes. “You haven’t been feeding.”

“I just…after what happened to her…”

She sat on the bed and held his hands. “You aren’t the problem, okay? Another vampire was. You shouldn’t starve yourself as punishment.”

“Mm…but…”

She softly said your name as she remembered having tea with you recently. “I adore her and she’s a sweet and good girl. She would be sad if you didn’t look after yourself.”

Sebastian ruffled his son’s hair. “As someone who has been through this exact thing, trust me when I say this. She will not fear you. You are not the creator of her pain. All you need to do is be a bit more gentle and communicate. Plus, if she truly hated and feared you, she wouldn’t cling to you as much as she has done.” He looked over at you and smiled. “She finds comfort in you like I found comfort in your mother.”

Levi let out a long sigh. “You’re both right.”

“Have some blood, okay? You need to feed.” He opened the heating bag Kuchel brought in and handed Levi a bottle. “Do it for her.”

Levi flinched when he saw a weak pale hand grab the bottle. He looked down to see you sit up carefully. Tears filled his eyes as he gazed at you. “Bunny.”

You hummed as you tried opening the top. “Ah, so weak.” You laughed a little. “It’s weird feeling this weak.”

Sebastian smiled. “I could open it.”

You smiled at him. “Thanks, but I want to give it a go.” You gritted your teeth and tried again. You gasped in delight when the lid came off. “I did it.” You offered it to Levi. “Drink, please.”

Levi took the bottle before kissing you. “I will.”

You smiled and rubbed his arm. “Thank you.”

He chugged the whole bottle before handing it over. “Thanks.”

“You should have more.”

Levi looked at you. “More?”

You nodded. “I need a big strong husband to protect me.” You pocked his cheek. “You’re that, right?”

His eyes widened before looking at his mother. “More please!”

Kuchel giggled. “So, whenever we need you to do something we’ll ask Bunny to tell you.”

You reached for Sebastian. “Could you help me?”

Sebastian helped you off the bed and pulled you close. “Where are we going?”

You hummed. “I just need guidance to the bathroom.”

Levi gasped after drinking another. “I wanna help.”

“Levi, keep drinking the blood. Do it for me?”

He nodded and dragged the bag closer. “I’ll drink all.”

Sebastian slowly led you to the bathroom. “How are you?” He softly whispered. “How are you really?”

You nibbled your lip. “Mm. I’m okay…I just…I am worried about Levi. I know he’ll blame himself for this all, but it’s not his fault at all. Someone became obsessed with me. I won’t blame myself either. The only person to blame for this is the one who hurt me.” You sighed. “I’m frustrated at how weak I am.” You sat down a moment. “Did you feel like this? I know you were held for a bit longer than me, but I just…”

Sebastian knelt in front of you and wiped your tears. “Yes. I felt incredibly frustrated that I was weak and not like how I was. I hated that even though I was strong in my mind and didn’t want to let myself be a victim, but being so physically weak just…it made me angry.” He pinched your cheek. “Don’t let the anger win too much, okay? Direct your anger to the person who did wrong not those around you. You don’t want to say something you’ll regret to someone you love.”

“I promise.”

He rose to his feet. “You can reach out to me whenever you need to, okay?”

“I appreciate it. You know, talking to me allows me to see where Levi got his big heart from.”

“He’s a good lad.” He walked to the door. “I’ll get Levi to take you back to bed.”

“Thanks.” You waited for him to leave before going to the toilet. You cleaned up a bit but felt weak as you shuffled around. You slipped a bit and fell to your knees. “Damn it.” You looked up as Levi threw the door open. “Hey.”

He knelt next to you and checked you over. “Are you okay?”

“I just got a bit weak.”

He hugged you. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He released a long sigh. “I wish I could heal you with my blood, but doctors say it could turn you.”

You lightly caressed Levi’s cheek. “You’re so handsome.”

He blushed a bit. “Thank you.”

“Could you help me shower?”

He nodded before scooping you up and sitting you on a chair. “It’s just you and me now. My parents have gone and they send their love.”

You hummed a laugh as Levi checked the water. “All my love back to them.”

Levi started undressing you and paused a moment when you were naked. His heart dropped at seeing all the bites and bruises. “Oh…bunny…”

You caressed Levi’s cheek. “It’s okay.”

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gulped hard. “You know, I worry.”

He lifted you. “Worry?” He sat you on the shower seat. “What troubles you?”

You rubbed your tears. “I’m not as plump as I was because I’ve been sick, plus I’m covered in marks. I just…I worry you won’t look at me the same way again or that you won’t love me as deeply as you did.”

He hugged you tightly. “Oh, bunny. I love you so much. I will never stop loving you, okay? You are incredibly beautiful.” He adjusted you and smiled. “I still want to ravage you just as much as I did before you were here in the hospital. I’ll try my best not to give you sad puppy looks.”

You smiled softly. “You’re so cute. Thank you.” You kissed him. “I love you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“I’m the same.” His eyes darkened. “When I get my hands on that person who did this.”

You shivered as Levi snarled. “That’s a very hot look.”

Levi chuckled and sat you on the shower seat. “Only for you, my darling bunny.” He pulled his clothes off and got into the shower with you. He knelt and began cleaning you. “You have a poorly paw. I’ll make sure it’s all fixed.”

“Thank you. You know, this is a dream for you. You get to be my nurse.”

Levi’s eyes sparkled. “You’re right! I like this.” He kissed you. “You better do as you’re told.”

You giggled. “Promise, but I might tease you a bit.”

“Bratty bunny, huh?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He chuckled and finished cleaning you. “There, that’s everything.” He picked you up and sat you down again. “Okay, I’ll dry us off.” He wrapped a towel around his waist before drying you and being as careful as possible. “We’ll be out of here soon, okay? When we get out I’ll take care of you at home.”

You sighed. “I wanna go now.”

“I know, but you need more blood.”

You rubbed your eyes. “I’m tired.”

Levi helped you change before picking you up. “I’ve got you.”

You sniffed and whined. “Levi.”

He chuckled. “You tired and hungry?”

“Mm.”

He squeezed you before tucking you into bed. “I’ll get you something to eat. I’ll be back.”

You watched as Levi disappeared in a blur. You gripped your sheets and fought your exhaustion. “Mm.” You smiled when your doctor entered. “Hello.”

She smiled at you. “Hello again, how are we feeling?”

“Better, but really tired.”

“That’s expected, you were put through a lot. You were on the verge of very concerning blood loss.” He walked to your meds and swapped everything. “Okay, here are some more meds for you and blood. This should give you a boost. We’ve recovered and got your body back up to an acceptable speed, now it is time to start healing and getting stronger.” She picked up your board and noted a few things. “I’m happy with your progress, but I still want to keep an eye on you.”

You let out a long sigh. “Sure.”

Levi appeared with a bag. “I have food!” He paused when he saw the doctor. “Is she?”

The doctor nodded. “She’s good. I’m very happy with the results. I just want to keep an eye on her for a bit longer. That substance used on her is very new.”

“Traceable?”

“Yes.”

Levi clenched the bag. “Good.” He walked over to you and smiled. “You ready for food? Once you’ve eaten you need to sleep.” He turned to the doctor as you ate. “So, having a substance used on her is keeping her here?”

The doctor folded her arms as she frowned. “This is the first time we’ve encountered it, so we don’t fully know what it could do to her. So, we just want to make sure that it was just a temporary thing and that there is no lasting damage. Which brings me to an important question. Could you come with me for testing?”

Levi looked over at you. “After she sleeps.”

“Of course.”

“Why do you need me?”

“I need to test your blood bond.”

He hummed. “I feel strongly connected to her, but sure. You just want to be sure, right?”

She nodded. “Yes. I like you both. You do a lot for this city and she’s so sweet and charitable with her online presence. I want to help as much as possible.”

Levi smiled. “Thank you. I’ll meet you later.” He walked over to you and sat on the bed. “All good.”

You grinned at him. “Yes, thank you. I love junk food.”

He cleaned your face a little. “I’m glad. Now, my lovely bunny, I need to go see the doctor when you go to sleep. So, if you wake up early and I’m not there you know where I am.”

“Sure. Thank you for telling me. I’ll be okay, so don’t worry.”

He kissed your cheek. “Good girl.”

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