#I mean I don’t wish I was 13 again. being 13 fucking sucked man.

[turnedinto-themoon]

God all the pro shippers found my anti post… lmao go away

[catsteeth]

The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 13 ✿:+ What is Loyalty?

Chapter Index | next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it. 

CW: MDNI, SMUT, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (Fem rec), multiple reader orgasms, insecure reader, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage, 

A/N: We're back at it again. A longer chapter for the come back lol

Word Count: 8.2K 

Sandor was part of Jon Snow’s party as they traveled through the lands beyond the wall on their mission to capture a wight. The party walked many many miles. Sandor contemplated what he was doing, he hated the extreme cold, but he reminded himself he was doing it for you. 

As he stopped to retie his boot, a tall, but much shorter than Sandor, red haired man approached him.

“You’re the one they call the dog!” The man shouted as he approached Sandor.

Sandor finished tying his boot, “Fuck off.” He huffed casually as he continued on.

The attitude did not deter the man as he followed Sandor, “They told me you were mean. Were you born mean or you just hate Wildlings?” 

“Don’t give two shits about Wildlings. Gingers I hate.” He said scowling at the red haired man.

The man amused by his words continued to talk despite Sandors obvious wishes for the conversation to end, “Gingers are beautiful, we’re kissed by fire. Just like you-“ The man said pointing a finger at Sandor's burned face.

Sandor hit the mans hand down and away from him, “Don’t point your fucking finger at me.” He barked at him.

Sandor walked away and yet somehow the man was not put off. He smiled and continued to walk alongside Sandor.

“Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?” The man pried into Sandor's past.

“I didn’t trip, I was pushed.” Sandor huffed as he kept walking, not looking at the man.

“And ever since you’ve been mean.” The man surmised. 

“Will you fuck off?” Sandor annoyingly barked at him.

“I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes.” The man tried to understand him, it struck a chord somewhere deep within him. He remembered how you once said something like that to him a long long time ago, whispered in the night as you held onto him. It was his final straw. 

Sandor stopped and scowled down at the red haired man, “You want to suck my dick is that it?”

“Dick?” The man asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Cock.” Sandor translated. 

“Oh, dick... I like it.” The man shrugged, amused by the new word he had learned. 

Sandor scrunched up his face, now just confused by the entire interaction, “Bet you do.” He mocked, as he continued to walk.

The man still followed him, “No, it’s pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell, if I ever get back there. (Y/H/C) hair…(Y/E/C) eyes…About this tall,” He gestured to your height. Sandor thought for a moment how similar his description was of you. But he was convinced it was a coincidence. “The perfect height for me. .” The man continued on, “Sharp tongued, bravest woman you’d ever seen. A high bred southern bird from a castle in the sky they say.” He said as if the memory of you was a breath of fresh air. However the description of you ran cold through Sandors body. 

Sandor stopped, and turned to the man, “(Y/N) Arryn?” 

“You know her?” He asked, happy to hear your name.

“You are with (Y/N) fucking Arryn?!” Sandor stepped closer, his words dripping with violent anger. 

The man almost shrunk as he explained, “Well not with her yet… but I’ve seen the way she looks at me.” 

Sandor scoffed, “How does she look at you?” He stepped closer to him, his words were dark and heavy, “Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?” His eyes narrowed onto the man.

“You do know her.” He said, narrowing his eyes back.

“Aye, I know her.” He scoffed as he kept walking, angry and jealous.

“You seen her fight?” He asked, following along with still.

“Fight?” Sandor practically spit his words at him.

“She’s a killer. I saw her take an arrow to her leg, while she bit a man's finger off, then she took that arrow, snapped it in half and stabbed that man in his eye with it.” He spoke of the violent act you committed, as if it were romantic.

Sandor shook his head and scoffed, “You’re a mad fucker you know that?” He knew now for certain you had too much good sense to be with a man like him, too much good sense to even entertain the idea.

The man continued, “It’s true. Cut through four men. Rode an entire army into battle. And fed a man to dogs.” Sandor thought of it, the last he saw of you you were a girl alone with no money, no army, no family, and the iron throne as an enemy against you. How could you have done so much, accomplished “I want to make babies with her. Think of them, they’d conquer the world!” 

Sandor snapped, turning to the man and grabbing him by his fur coat, “If you say the word babies again I'll strangle you with your own guts.” He barked loudly at him.

“There will be no fighting on account of my cousin. Not while she’s resting and not while we are on this mission.” Jon said, making Sandor huff and let go of the man.

“She’s your cousin now?” The man with red hair asked. Remembering when he told you you were not his cousin when you first met.

Jon looked down, somewhat regretful of his words, “She showed great loyalty to my blood, her blood. Cousin is close enough.” He said as he continued to walk, “And I will not have any of you fight over her favor when we’ve a matter of great importance to see to.” 

Sandor reluctantly continued on, angry and jealous. But now he knew where you were, and knew you were alive. That was enough for him to continue.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You lost so much in the war. Lika was your horse sense you were but a child. She was the first horse you’d learned to ride. You lost the last man who was eternally loyal to you, the last man who loved you in the way only a father could. As if that weren’t enough, your body was now littered with healing scars. A constant reminder of the price you paid.  

You sat by the fire in your chamber. You wore a white chemise and wrapped yourself in a fur as you examined the scar on your thigh. Running your finger over it, going over the memory of the pain. 

As you did, your chamber door opened suddenly. Making you pull your chemise down and covering your bare legs. 

Sansa walked in, closing the door behind her. “You’ve not left your chambers in some time.” She said, gently.

You let your guard down, relaxing. You looked into the fire, “Resting. Rest is needed to heal.” 

“You're healed.” She said bluntly, you looked at her, “Well, your leg is healed.” She replied plainly. 

You sighed, you knew she was right. You had used your injury as an excuse long enough. “Time they say.” you said dispassionately, “It heals all, though I am not sure of that.” You said gloomily. 

Sansa approached you, sitting beside you, “You never told me.” You looked at her confused. “The man you said you loved, that Baelish took from you.” She clarified. 

You took a deep breath, looking into the fire, “Sandor Clegane.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the sound of his name.

“The Hound.” She spoke calmly. 

You shook your head slowly as you thought back to it, “I just called him Sandor.” You looked into the fire again. Sansa’s silence made you feel uneasy. You didn’t dare look at her, fearful of her reaction. You knew she and he were in Kings Landing at the same time, maybe she’d only seen the cruelty that was demanded of him. “I know many think he was cruel-”

She interrupted your words, “He clothed me once. When Joffrey ordered his men to strip me while they beat me in the throne room. He didn’t.” You looked at her, you listened to her story as warm tears began to rise in your eyes, and your nose and cheeks began to flush with heat, “He gave me his white cloak.” She placed a hand on yours, “He was kind.” She smiled softly as she spoke kindly of your beloved rather than pass any judgment. You were grateful for that. 

You smiled, and sniffed your now runny nose, “Thank you.” You said as she wiped a tear from your cheek, forcing you to realize your tears had begun to fall. You breathed a laugh as you wiped them with the back of your hand. You looked down at the of yours hand that Sansa held, “I miss him.” You nodded, your smile falling, replaced with a frown, “His pain has ended, but… I am in agony.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed. 

Sansa held you. It reminded you of when you both were in Kings Landing and the roles were reversed. You always held her when she cried, you tried your best to comfort her but it never worked. Now you understand. 

You pulled away and swallowed your sobs, wiping away the rest of your tears with it. You took a deep breath. 

Sansa tucked your hair behind your ear as she spoke softly, “You hide it well enough to the others.” 

You huffed, tired of your emotion. “I have to have my moments of misery. If not I would throw myself from the highest tower I could find.” You let out one deep breath “You’re the only one I’d ever tell that to.” 

“I understand the feeling.” She nodded, 

You looked at her and focused on her experiences, “You’ve grown so much, you know. Not that you'd have any choice. Girls are beaten into women. But all the same, you’ve grown.” You forced a smile.

“In King's Landing I watched you closely. Every Time I was scared I thought of what you would have done. I learned how to carry myself from the strongest woman I know.” She smiled at you, and you smiled back, gripping tighter onto her hand. “Speaking of, I received this,” She looked down at the letters she received earlier that day. 

You opened it, your brows furrowed, “An invitation to King's Landing?” You scoffed at such a ridiculous idea. 

Sansa rolled her eyes in agreement, “For the both of us. For the Ladies of the North and East.” She sighed, “I know it is a part of Jon’s plan. But I can’t go back there.” She said defeatedly.

“I won’t leave you.” You said throwing the invitation into the fire you sat beside. “Send Brienne as your representative of the North. I will send Ser Leon in representation of myself.” You said confidently. 

She nodded, looked down then back to you, “There is more than this. Bran and Arya have returned to Winterfell.” 

You smiled, genuinely. You felt happiness for once in a very long while. Knowing Arya was safe gave you great happiness. You looked at Sansa, grinning from ear to ear. You grabbed ahold of both her hands, “I am happy for you.” You spoke earnestly.

Sansa however looked conflicted “He says he is something called the three eyed raven.” 

“He sees visions?” You asked, you’d heard tales of such a thing but did not know if it were real. 

“Of the past and the present, it would seem.” She explained, she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “You should talk to him. Relieve yourself of some of those uncertainties.” You nodded. 

You stood and looked out the window, you saw your men stationed in Winterfell. You felt once more the sting of responsibility. Then once more, I felt the weight of your sorrow. Conflicted with what others must have been saying. The maddened lady of grief. 

“What are they saying?” You asked, you looked behind you towards Sansa, “About me?” You clarified. 

“Stories of your bravery and loyalty towards your men and people have traveled far. They are calling you the relentless lady of the mountain and vale.” She smiled as she stepped towards you. 

“A generous lie.” You said, still convinced otherwise. 

She shook her head, “I’d not lie to you.” She said as she stepped closer, placing her hands on your shoulders, “Let’s dress you. I believe it is time you continued with your journey.”

You smiled, and nodded. You knew your duty. You knew your oath. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You walked along around the high walls of Winterfell. You looked down upon your men who had camped out front of the walls. Helping Northern houses with the preparations of the coming war. You smiled upon the Knights, you felt pride in them. You were not a northerner and yet still, you could feel the North's appreciation of your mens labors. 

“You’re a woman now.” You heard from behind you. As you turned around you saw Arya. She stood taller than the last time you'd seen her. Dressed in black leather and fur. 

You smiled, as you approached her, “I could say the same to you. Though you look more like a knight. It suits you.” You placed her hands on her shoulders, then ran them down to her hands. 

“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded. 

“I often wondered on you. How you were and what you were doing.” You spoke softly as your eyes took her in. Still surprised by how much she’d grown since you’d last seen her.

“If I was dead?” She asked bluntly, 

You stifled a laugh, “No. No, I knew you and your needle would survive. You’ve a brave heart.” You said as you looked at her sword.

“As do you.” She said as she removed her sword, handing it to you. You took it in hand and examined it. “Only a brave heart could love a Hound.” She said as you looked at it. Your eyes darted from the blade back to her,  

“Did Sansa tell you this?” You questioned her with narrow eyes.

She grinned as she shook her head, “No. He did.” You looked at her with interest as you handed her sword back to her. She put her sword back in its sheath “He took from the brotherhood. To sell me off to my mother and brother, then to aunt Lyssa. Though I suspect it was simply a ploy to get to you… I see it now.” She said as though she were proud of her observation. 

You looked down, “What did he say?” You asked, almost embarrassed to ask it. 

“He didn’t go on about it. Only that he failed you, and he cared for you.” 

“Were you there when he died?”

Her ever present grin faded, “I left him there.” 

You looked down, “It has taken a lot within me to hold my own bias aside. I understand he could be… abrasive. Hard for others to understand.” 

Arya felt herself feel a slight tinge of guilt, “He fought for me harder than I’d ever seen anyone fight.” She said, attempting to comfort you, “I didn’t like him. But I can respect that.” She nodded, you smiled softly. 

“You cannot tell anyone.” You commanded but it was practically a plea as you held onto her hand. 

“I won’t.” She shook her head. 

“I am so happy to see you.” You said with a smile, finally taking in the fact she was here. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later in the courtyard you found Bran under the tree. You remembered what Sansa had said to you. You decided to see for yourself.

“Bran,” You announced your presence as you walked closer to him.

Bran looked over to you, “Cousin.” he stated stoically. 

You smiled at him, “How you’ve grown. You’re a man now.” 

“Almost.” He stated, again without emotion. 

You sighed uncomfortably. Unsure of how or if you could comfort him. So you decided not to. “Sansa tells me you called yourself the three eyed raven.”

“I am.” He stated confidently. 

You sat beside him, you smiled as you recounted a memory “I’d only heard stories of it, when I was a child. The ladies would tell me of it. Threaten that the three eyed raven would know if I were lying.” You looked at Bran, 

“I would.” He stated plainly. 

Your eyes narrowed in curiosity “Prove it.” you nearly whispered, 

You looked upon you for a moment, “You were with child. Once.” Your blood ran cold. You stared at him with shocked and horrified eyes. “Forced to drink a tea to end it. You wore a blue velvet robe, it had silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves.” He spoke emotionlessly.

“I was?” You asked, your voice wavered as you ignored the rest of his statement. You need not hear anything more. 

He nodded slowly “You were.”

You swallowed any emotion that rose. “Thank you.” You nodded. Now fully convinced in his ability, you knew what you had to ask him. “I need to know of my father.”

He looked at you, as if he was surprised you asked. “Littlefinger conspired with your aunt Lyssa to poison and kill your father. But you already knew that.”

You let out a huff, fighting tears, “I did.” you said softly.

“I’m sorry for what's happened to you.” He said earnestly,

“As I am for you.” You said mournfully.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. Or I’d not be what I am now.” You looked at him with concern, and confusion. But you soon understood what he meant. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor and Jon’s mission was a success. However it did have its losses. Daenerys Had lost a dragon and Sandor had lost Thoros. It was hard but they captured the Wright as intended. 

Sandor traveled with Jon to be sure his mission was completed and your cousin arrived safely. Soon enough he would be returning to Winterfell. 

At the front of the ship Jon and Tyrion stood as they looked upon Kings Landing approaching in the distance. 

“How many people live there?” Jon Asked,

“A million give or take.” Tyrion stated coldly.

“That’s more people than the entire North, crammed into that. Who would want to live that way?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“There's more work in the city. And the brothels are far superior.” Tyrion said as he scanned the other ships that had arrived for the meeting. He saw an Arryn ship in the distance. “I see Littlefinger has arrived.”

Jon shook his head, “That ship sails for Lady Arryn.” Tyrion's uncaring demeanor dropped, “The colors are inverted, it’s her claims support.” Jon stated.

“So the stories were true?” Tyrion takes a step closer to the edge of the ship to get a better look.

“Aye.” Jon said, he looked at Tyrion looking off at your ship longingly “You were betrothed to each other?” He asked, uncomfortably.

“We were.” Tyrion stated stoically, 

“You loved her?” Jon questioned.

“Might have.” Tyrion said, though he knew he did.

Jon huffed, “You and the rest of the men on this ship it would seem.” 

Tyrion, not knowing what he meant, looked behind him at Tormund and Sandor who looked off at your ship longing just as he was. Though all three would be equally disappointed to find out you sent a Knight to represent you rather than appear yourself. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

When in KingsLanding Sandor was in charge of transporting the Wright.

A Lannister Guard approached Sandor,

“What's in there?” The Guard questioned,

Sandor looked back at the man, surprised someone was questioning him, “Fuck off.” He said annoyingly. 

Sandor then saw a tall blonde woman, the very one that almost killed him. 

Brienne approached him as they walked, 

“Thought you were dead.” She stated bluntly,

“Not yet. You came pretty close.” He acknowledged her ability.

“I was only trying to protect her.” Brienne tried to defend herself.

“You and me both.” Sandor sighed, 

“She’s alive.” Brienne said, Sandor looking at her in surprise, “Arya.”

“Where?” He asked looking ahead, pretending not to care.

“Winterfell.”

“Who’s protecting her if you're here?” He questioned, 

“The only one who needs protecting is the one that gets in her way.” She said with a smirk, shared by Sandor at the thought. Brienne then looked at Sandor once again, “As the same goes with Lady (Y/N).” He looked at her with surprise, “She’s scowled at me ever since she heard I killed you. I assumed it meant something, but I was right.” She sighed.

Sandor looked away trying to remain composed, “She alright?” He questioned, 

“No. Though you don’t get names like (Y/N), the brave, the unrelenting, the unconquerable, or the Inured without suffering a great deal.” Brienne said, Sandor felt guilt wash over him again,

“What happened?” Sandor asked, still looking ahead. 

“You’ll have to ask her.” Breinne said, knowing that soon he and you would meet again. 

Sandor looked at her once more and smiled.

That was until the Lannister guards approached Sandor and the Box the Wright remained in.

“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You looked out of your chamber window to see Jon Snow and his armies returning. You tried to look for Ser Leon through a voice behind you interrupted your attempt to do so.

“My Lady,” You turned around to see another knight of the Vale, you smiled and nodded for him to continue, “I am to announce the arrival of Jon Snow and Daenerys Stormborn.” He said, 

“Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked, knowing she’d not be happy with the arrival of an outsider. 

“Already waiting at the gates, my Lady.” He said,

“We shall join her.” You said as you continued on through the door, on your way to join your cousin.

The Knight nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” He said as he followed you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You saw Sansa alongside Bran waiting at the Gates. You approached her, 

“You don’t look happy.” You said as you locked your arm around hers. 

She smiled slightly at you, “Neither do you.” 

You shrugged, “I am hard to please, I suppose.” You looked out at the crowds of men entering Winterfell, “But your brother has returned with a large army for your people. That should please you.” You said as you rubbed her arm with your hand. 

She sighed, “He returned with a new Queen, one I don’t know and do not trust. One who wishes to rule this very Kingdom.” She scoffed. 

You shrugged again, “Yes, well I suppose that is problematic.” You said as two large dragons flew overhead. 

You’d never seen anything so large and magnificent take to the sky. You smiled as you watched the three dragons fly with one another through the sky. 

“Hard to please?” Sansa said looking at how taken you were by the sight. 

“I’ve never seen one before, much less two. You must admit it is extraordinary.” You said without looking at her, still looking at the dragons in the sky. You finally looked at her, “A little.” you shrugged, 

“A clear presentation of her power.” She said irritated. 

“Well… If you got it��” You attempted to reason but she gave you a scowl that made you stop. “Apologies.” You said. As you saw your cousin ride into Winterfell, you felt it was not your place to welcome an outsider into Winterfell. Especially since you yourself were outside. “I’ll leave you to make a proper introduction.” You smiled at her, trying to get her to lighten up. 

As you walked back into the castle you heard a familiar voice speak, 

“(Y/N)?” Tyrion spoke, “Or, do you prefer Lady of the Vale, now?” He breathed a chuckle but he was fighting back heartbreaking emotion.  

You felt the guilt you felt long ago surge again, “Tyrion. Or do you prefer Hand of the Queen?” You jested in return. 

He took a step towards you, “It would seem you are acting as hand to the Queen of the north said by some.”

You shook your head, “We are kin… we are close. But that is all.” 

“Two women betrothed to me who ran away.” He jested, self deprecatingly. 

“Don’t feel too bad about it. We both suffered for it.” You said earnestly.

He shook his head, “I did not want you to suffer. I never did.” 

“I know. I did suffer though. I still am.” You said quietly. 

“You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay here.” He said walking closer to you.

“Where would I go?” You asked, as if his idea were ridiculous. His eyes however told a different story. You could see the emotion, the longing, “No.” You said recoiling from him. 

He followed you, “I have loved you since I first saw you.” He pleaded

“Please don’t.” You winced at the word ‘love’.

He grabbed your hand, “I have to know where you went, and why.” 

You huffed, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to have this conversation. But knowing that the truth would hurt him, it would also set him free. “I left with Sandor Clegane. He took me with the intention of delivering me to my aunt Catelyn Stark.” You said bluntly.

“Why would he take you?” 

“You know why.” You said with furrowed brows, he then looked down, you could see the pain that he felt wash over his face. You sighed “I’m sorry. I am, I tried to love you in the way you wanted, the way that was demanded of me by duty and I couldn’t. I have no doubt that you would have been a doubting and loyal husband. And maybe if we were married I would have found peace. But when he asked me to leave with him I couldn’t help it, I loved him. I never felt that way for anyone.” You walked towards him once more, “You were a dear friend to me.” You held his hand, “Very dear, you gave me consideration no else did.” 

“I would have given you everything- anything.” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. Perhaps both. 

“I can get it myself.” You said. Never willing to ever use your hand as a bargaining chip for land or armies again. 

“That is your way, I suppose. The reason I-“ 

You interrupted him before he could say he loved you once more, “You wouldn’t want me. You wouldn’t, not really. I am pigheaded and my ambitions are large. We would argue all the time, every time we spoke in Kings Landing it was a debate. Neither of us would be happy.” You blurted out. Just wishing he would see it your way.  

“Anything more?” He asked pained, 

“No.” You said. He began to walk away, “Except that-” You called out, making him turn around towards you. He nodded wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a breath, “With him gone, Tyrion… I do not believe I will ever wed. Ever find love truly. I don’t believe I will ever carry a child in me, and I don’t believe I will ever be happy.” You shook your head. 

He smiled, though clearly upset. “I think you are very wrong about that. I think you will see that very soon. And I will watch.” His smile faded and he walked away. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Later that day Podrick walked with you on the high walls of Winterfell. You and he were tasked by Lady Sansa to take further inventory of the new armies for the coming war. As you walked along the wall you heard a loud Caw! Of a Falcon. You looked to the sky and saw Lenaera. You grabbed an armored glove that laid against other supplies by the wall. She landed on your gloved hand. She fluttered her wings happily and you smiled as you pet her feathers on her head. 

By chance you peered down at the courtyard to see a tall and large man staring at you. A man who thought was dead. 

“Podrick?” You said, your eyes wide.

“Yes, my Lady?” Podrick asked,

“Am I dead?” You asked sincerely, 

“N-no, My Lady.” Podrick responded concernedly 

“Dreaming?” You asked again, bluntly. 

“No, My Lady.” Podrick again responded with concern, 

“You told me the Hound was dead.” You said, Podrick looked down to where you looked and saw the man standing there. Soon his eyes went wide as well. 

“I thought he was.” He said shocked. 

“Take Laenera.” You said placing her on his arm.

“Yes, my Lady-” He said before Lenaera’s talons dug into his leather sleeves, “Ah!” He hissed as you dropped the glove and ran into the castle. 

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈

You gathered your skirts up as you made hast down the stairs within the castle. As you were running down the hall, you saw a tall and large man running down the same hall from the opposite end. You both stopped at the same time, as if the sight of the other paralyzed the other. You felt like you were looking at a ghost of the man you loved. Your hands released your skirts as you let out a sharp and painful breath. 

He stared at you, his eyes filled with emotion, “That fucking birds yours?” 

You didn’t respond, still in shock by the man before you. Sandors demeanor calmed, became more earnest, “I heard you were here. Didn’t want to let myself believe it. ‘Case it were horse shit.” He said taking some steps towards you, though he stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes well.

You let out another curt breathe as you held in your tears, a wave of emotion crashed against your form as you heard his voice for the first time in so long. “I heard you were dead.” You said walking closer to him, “I thought you were dead.” A tear fell from your eye, stepping closer “I believed you were dead.” You stopped, your emotion taking hold of you, “You were dead, I-I-” You shook your head unable to understand. 

Sandor stepped towards you, closing the space that remained, “I’m not.” He held your face in his hands, you noticed they were rougher than before. “I’m here.” He said gentler than you were used to. You placed your hands on top of his that held your face. “I’m not leaving.” He continued to comfort you. 

It took you a moment to realize you were somewhat out in the open. Any Lady or Lord could walk down the hall the two of you stood there. You weren’t used to that. Being in the open with your affection. He would sneak into your chambers in the early hours of the morn or the late hours of the night. Never this. But, there were no more Lannisters, no more Littlefinger, no more Bolton, there was no other person or house that would threaten your status or standing. No one to hold your virtue over your head. So, you did not care.

“You needed me.” He said assertively as if he were angry with himself.

He wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, You blinked hard. Swallowing your emotions and taking a breath. Grounding yourself. You nodded, “I did. But I had myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “But, I still need you.” You nearly whispered, You looked around for a moment, the hall was still empty but for how long? You looked to your side and noticed you and he were coincidently standing beside the door to your chambers. You held onto his wrist with one of your hands, you pulled him along. “Come inside and be alone with me.” You said in a quiet voice what some might think of a seductive voice. 

As you entered your chambers, he closed your door, “Lock it.” You said not realizing how bold it seemed, “Many forget to knock on my door.” You explained as you took a pitcher of water from a table by your door, walking over to the fireplace and extinguishing the fire, to make him more comfortable. 

“I can make sure they don’t forget.” He said with a possessive and protective tone. 

You missed it, you hadn’t heard it in so long. You walked with haste towards him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He in return, wrapped his thick arms around you. He lifted you up as your lips met. 

They met for the first time in so long. Your lips, as well as his, were cold from the northern air. But the heat from his tongue warmed you. 

“Are you staying?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from his kiss. You searched his eyes, with your own. You missed his gaze dearly.

He nodded, breathless, “With you.” He said, putting you down, “I’ll go where you go.” He vowed.

“I’ve never seen you without armor.” You smiled looking over him as your hands ran over the leather top he wore. 

“You have.” He said candidly

Your gazes blinked up to his, “I mean… real clothing.” You said holding back a laugh, “You look handsome.” You said earnestly.

“Fuck off.” He said dismissively, looking away from you, assuming you were lying. 

You placed a hand on his scarred cheek. Redirecting his gaze back towards you. His eyes looked into yours seeing that you were honest “I missed you.” You said almost dreamily with an absent minded smile as you gazed upon the face you thought you’d never see again. Your smile faded a bit, you shook your head, “I can’t begin to… explain how terrible it was.” 

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down. “I know.” He was disappointed in himself, “I thought of you.” He said looking back into your eyes, “A lot.” He admitted.

As you gazed into his soft eyes, you knew he should know. He should know about the babe. He should know the things LittleFinger did. The kiss he forced on you. He should know of Ramsay, he should know of your journey. “There’s things I should tell you.” You said almost shamefully.

Sandors eyes hardened, “You fuck that ginger?” He questioned, 

“Gods no!” You said with disgust, you answered quickly, surprised by the question. “His attempts at wooing me have grown constant and boring.” You rolled your eyes, then settled your gaze on him once again “I’d only ever thought of one man.” Your tone is softer.

“He said he wants make fucking babies with you.” He sneered, not angry at you but at the man. He loved you like he loved no one, and he knew he was not the only one.

“You sound jealous.” You said teasingly.

“I am.” He said with a snarl. 

“You needn’t be.” You said in a whisper into his lips as you kissed him again. “Let me look at you.” You said running your hands from his face, down to his chest, “you’ve let your beard go.” You said in a melancholy tone. 

All the time that had passed truly had gotten away from Sandor. It was then that the emotion hit him. Sandor dropped to his knees. Placed his hands against the small of you back, pushing you forward as he rested his head against your belly. 

he was desperate, 

you’d never seen him like this. You held his head in your hands, running your fingers through his hair. 

“It’s alright.” You whispered, you understood how he was feeling. Feeling that he failed you.

“It’s not.” he whispered back. 

“We can start again.” You said as you petted his hair,  “We could be together, truly, never hiding.” You said like you were dreaming of it right then and there. 

He hummed against your stomach, “I’m not a man of honor.” He said as though he were shameful of himself.

“Men of honor die all the same, I’d rather be with you.” You spoke softly as your hands sweetly ran through his hair, and your other rubbed circles against his back, “Do you not wish for me to be your wife?” You asked, scared for the answer, but needing it all the same.

He shook his head, “I wish it for me, not for you.”

You shook your head and huffed, “Look at us. this isn’t wrong. how could something that feels so good be wrong? You are no longer a piece on a board in Kings Landing. Nor am I. I don’t know about you but I refuse to be one again. Let me be yours and be mine.” You felt silly for  opening yourself up like this, in a way you’d never had before. But it was something you had to do. You couldn’t allow for the same cycle you and he fell into King's Landing to continue. “When you were gone, I went to war and felt no fear. No fear because if I died I would see you. I’d be with you again. I cannot go back to wishing for moments with you. I wish for a life with you because I love you and I need you. If you love me then don’t leave me again.” You pleaded softly.

He was silenced for a moment, but then, his hands traveled tighter around your back. He looked up at you, “Be my wife.” He pleaded, his love seeping through his gruff tone.

“Yes.” You said, sweetly. You let out a small gasp as you felt his rough, large hand trail up your leg, “Yes,” you whispered to him, his eyes remaining connected to yours, his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, “Yes… yes” You continued to whispered against his movements, his fingers sneaking their way under your small clothes and toying with your sex “Yes…yes…yes-“ your whispers becoming louder, more breathless and closer to a whine. You ran fingers from his hair to his scarred cheek, you carassed it as you moaned, “My husband-Ah!” you were cut off as his finger slid inside of you, forcing a moan out of you. You grasped his scarred face harder as he did so, 

“Say it again.” He rasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.

You caught your breath as he hiked your skirts up and over his head, You could feel his beard scratching at your inner thighs, “My husban-nnnd” your voice hitched and drawn out into a moan as you felt his breathe graze across your cunt, soon feeling the heat of his tongue as it lapped up your sweetness. He sucked on your clit as his fingers found your sweet spot, pushing against your velvet walls. It had been so long since you felt someone know your body so well, and he didn't forget a thing about it. You felt the tightness in your belly finally release. As you reached your peak you cried out. Sandor drank you in groaning and fucking his fingers even deeper into you. “Sandor,” you whined, “I need, I need more.” You said with furrowed brows as you gripped onto his head beneath your skirts.

As he stood, his mouth crashed into yours. You could taste your own release on his lips.  His kiss was desperate, and passionate. Making up for all the times he wished he could have done it. His hands roamed your body erratically and roughly. 

He began to kiss down your jaw and neck, “I’ve missed your tongue.” you said breathlessly with a smirk and heavy eyes. 

He licked up from your neck to your ear, making you moan. “Let me see you.” He spoke in your ear as he untied the back of your dress, though his large hands could hardly figure out the fragile ties.

You felt a sting of insecurity. 

You looked down, as your hands aided Sandor in untying your gown. He continued to kiss and lick at your body slowly as more and more of your skin was revealed. Until you were left in your small clothes. Your scars showed, the one on your thigh, the one on your forearm, and even others that had come with time and war. Sandors eyes trailed over you, longingly. 

“You don’t have to look.” You said as you looked down, somewhat ashamed of the scars you had earned valiantly. “I know I hurt to look at.” 

Sandor stepped towards you, his eyes confused and bewildered. “Fuck are you on about? Feel me.” He said with furrowed brows. You looked confused for a moment until your hand trailed down from his stomach to his mounting bulge, he let out a groan. He hadn’t felt your touch in so long, and you hadn’t felt a man's body in so long, or wanted to. Your eyes snapped from his hardening, hot, and throbbing bulge that your hand caressed, to his gaze. Deeply lustful and full of longing. “Does that feel like you hurt to look at.” He asked as his hand grasped your jaw. His lips connected to your own, his facial hair tickled in a familiar and delightful way. As your mouths danced together you felt his tongue aching for the warmth of yours. To which you happily complied. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it made you all the more wet. As you did he pulled off your small clothes, practically ripping them off. 

He stood there looking at your naked body, he let out a groan and you rubbed his hardened cock through his pants again.

“You’re not a woman, take your own clothes off.” You said assertively as you brushed past him laying down on your bed. He let out a dry chuckle as he obeyed your command. 

You laid on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. You bent one of your legs bringing your knee close to your chest as you pressed your slick thighs together.  

He climbed on top of you. Kissing you once more. Passionately, slowly. Taking in the pleasure of your soft and plush lips, relishing in the taste that he missed so deeply.  His tongue met yours in tandem as his hands ran over your body erratically. As if he couldn’t believe you were underneath him again, he didn’t know where to start with you but he knew how much he wanted all of it. His attention was soon directed to your breasts. He’d missed them dearly. Thought of them as he worked himself in the late hours of the night. 

He slid down and took them in his mouth. Sucking at your breasts, biting them in just the way you liked. As he did you wrapped your legs around his hard back, and rocked your hips against his hard stomach, attempting to soothe the growing ache in your core. 

The sounds of your moans created made him even harder than could bare “I can’t wait anymore, I want my woman. My wife.” His voice was dark and deep.

You nodded as he kissed your lips, 

You kissed passionately, your lips swollen and wanting. As your lips met, and your tongues found one another again. You felt the head of his cock, already leaking, begin to press against your entrance. As he pushed in you felt the burn of the stretch. You  almost forgot how large he was. You gasped and winced, Sandor stopped himself from moving for a moment, looking at you to see if you were alright.

You gripped onto his shoulder digging your nails into him, “It’s been a long time.” You explained. 

He nodded as he brushed your hair out of your face, “Too fucking long.” He said, holding back a moan from the pure euphoria of your cunt.

“You haven't taken another?” You asked breathlessly, possibly not the best time. 

He shook his head, and in return you held his face and kissed him deeply. “I want all of it.” You whispered into his ear. 

He complied, happily. Pushing his cock into your until he was completely inside of you. 

You muffled your moans into his neck as you clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his back. “Fuck!” He barked, “Gods you’re tight, does it hurt?” He asked. 

It did, it burned, and you were almost overwhelmed. But Gods, it was perfect. You needed it, badly. 

“Husband,” You pleaded into his lips, the words made his cock twitch inside of you, “fuck me.” You whined as you kissed him deeply. 

As he thrusted in and out of you with the built up lust and longing he had inside of him. You bit down on his lip as he moaned out. You threw your head back, unable to hold in your moans any longer. 

He took pleasure in thrusting in you harder to hear you cry out even louder. “Fuck! I missed your cunt, your sweet fucking cunt!” He grunted, he felt you clench around him harder and harder, “Give it to me!” He groaned, “I want my wife to cum.” He grunted through gritted teeth. 

“Yes!” You pleaded as his pace only became more and more furious and erratic, “Ah!” You shouted as you felt yourself release a second time,

“That’s it-” He groaned as he felt your release cover his cock, making it only easier for his cock to slip in and out with ease. It made your cunt even more euphoric, he could hold himself in any longer, 

“I want it inside of me,” You begged breathlessly, 

“Good.” He groaned against your skin, “Cause I want to fill my wife with my seed.” He said through gritted teeth. 

You kissed him deeply as he did just that. He moaned into your mouth as he spilled his hot seed inside of you deeply. Driving you towards another release you didn’t know was there.

After... You laid there, breathing. Trying to catch your breath. Sandor laid there with his head resting against your chest. Listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair. 

You laid there in each other's arms for what felt like a lifetime. But you didn’t want it to end.

Soon Sandor spoke again, “That ginger cunt says you killed a man.” His voice was so gruff and deep it almost startled you after basking in the silence for so long.

“I did.” You said stoically.

“That makes two men you’ve killed.” He said as if he were proud.

“Five.” You corrected, he looked up at you from your chest, “Six if you’re counting the one from the riot.” You said petting his cheek,

“I am.” He said, he looked surprised by you.

“Six then.” You nodded, “Killed four men in the battle. Then I killed Ramsay.” 

“How’d you do it?” He asked, genuinely interested. 

“Ramsay? Hounds.” You smirked, noting the irony. 

Sandor chuckled at it as well, “You’re different now.”

“Is that bad?” You asked, running your fingers down his back comfortingly.

“No.” He shook his head, “None of it would have happened if I was there.” He said as though he were disappointed in himself.

“I know.” You were confident it wouldn’t have. But it did, and it was no one's fault but those who committed the acts against you. 

Sandor took your forearm, looked at the scar, Lyssa left you with. 

“What happened?” He asked protectively, wanting to know who he’d have to kill.

You sighed, “It’ll be a hard thing to hear.” You said sitting up. You wrapped yourself in fur as you laid beside him once more, “You’ll be angry. Furious even. I know because I feel the same way. But this once, just feel the sorrow with me.” You asked him, he nodded. 

And so you did. You told him your story. How you were attacked by Lyssa. How Baelish forced you to end your pregnancy. How he attempted to force himself on you. How he killed your aunt. How Ramsay tormented you. You told him of the Battle, you told him of Ser Cole. You told him everything. 

Sandor was silent for just a moment. Until he sat up “I’ll kill hi-” 

You interrupted his anger as you sat up with him. “No anger. Not here. Not our first night.” You pleaded as you held his face in your hand. Calming him. 

He held onto your wrist, “I will take care of you.” He said earnestly, “I’ll protect you.” He vowed.

“You can’t. No one can.” You shook your head. 

He looked at you. Saddened that you’d no longer believe in that promise. “I will.” He vowed.

You, still, unbelieving, nodded. You leaned towards him, and rested your forehead against his own.  

You didn’t want to love him this much. And he didn’t want to love you this much. And yet here you both were. Your love was formidable, unrelenting, and merciless. There was not a thing in the known world you’d not do for him. And not a thing in this known world that he’d not do for you. 

You had an army and now, you had your man. Now that all left to do was to go and get what you were owed.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: It's no use (Y/N) we gotta have it out.  Also you cannot tellll me that mf wouldn’t pull out the “My Wife” card every chance he got like…. That's all. Also got I feel like I am finally free and can write smut again thank god. We are about to have our own version of the royal wedding lmao K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:

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@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06  @symonedoesart 

@wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter @vikingswhore0 @drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare @lavenderbreeze3

[diabolicalcunt]

I feel the need to pin this cause I’ve always been notorious for people loving me when they first meet me, and then finding out that my political views are not extremely liberal. So here’s all the reasons you will hate me once you get to know me. Or not. I honestly don’t care I’m just sick of the ‘You aren’t who I made you out be in my head!’ conversations.

So my unpopular opinions in no order-

1. They/them is something that’s being encouraged by big brother to see yourself as non or less human.

2. DID isn’t real and you just disassociate a specific way. I look like I’ve been drugged cause I fall down ‘inside’ myself like a well and have no reaction time and can barely speak. I’m like a sloth. You pretend to be a anime character. It’s just coping.

3. The concept of trans genocide is fear mongering by big brother and means to keep boundaries between social groups.

4. To build off 3, the push to medically transition underage children is a move by big pharmaceutical companies to create a permanent customer. Because whether you decide to stay transitioned or de transition, you’re going to be on medication for the rest of your life whether you like it or not. There’s also the whole issue with child exploitation. You’ll be judgmental against Dance Moms, but you won’t say anything about a mom who transitioned her child when they were two years old and made them a social media star.

5. Trans men and women who have been charged with a crime belong in LGBT prison wings. Because we have created a culture where male rapists can put on its dress and be rewarded with a permanent stay in the hen house where they can victimize more women and the system will just cry transphobia and call the victims liars. You got a problem with that? I have never seen a trans man pushing to get put in men’s prison. I wonder why… 😐

6. Blair White is queen.

7. I will fight Henry Cavill on sight. I don’t give a shit how bad you want motorboat him. He’s a fucking pedophile.

8. Same goes for David Bowie. When I get to the afterlife I’m gonna make him wish he could die again. Ask me if you want my full on sight list. 😂

9. I stand with Palestine. Yes I think Islam is a horrible religion that is anti woman. I still don’t think kids should die for the grievances of adults and I think it’s fucked up Israel is doing the same shit Nazis did to them and expect us to nod and smile!

10. Qu**r is just as much of a slur as f*g*t or n*gg*r. I don’t use it and if you do I will block you no questions asked. Say gay! Say lesbian! Say…bisexual! 😱

11. Butch women are valid as fuck and I adore y’all . They aren’t trans men, fuck your lesbian phobia.

12. To build off 11, the new LGBT movement has been infected by woke homophobia and the new trans movement is nothing but conversion therapy in a mask.

13 . Radical feminists are women’s last hope.

14. Marvel movies always sucked, we were just kids and ate up the pretty colors.

15. Dune is a white male savior story.

16. Your fave is not autistic, trans, gay or whatever. You just need validation cause you have no confidence.

17. The Boys should have never cast Jensen Ackles and the Supernatural fandom needs psychological help.

18. Too many of y’all try to primp and posture as the gods of your fandom and yes I say that as someone who did the same and stepped away when I realized how cringe I was. Lording over autistic adults and actual children is pathetic. Get therapy and a real hobby.

19. While gender neutral fanfiction has its place. The trend that all fanfiction needs to be gender neutral is literally killing the creativity and frankly the spice to fanfiction. I hate this trend where piece of media needs to be sterilized so it can be consumed by anyone, even people just passing by. It goes against the concept of creating at its core. Sometimes things are made for specific groups. Sometimes it’s made just for you. The things you create do not need to be sanitized to the point there’s no substance, just a hollow consumption. Think of it this way. Would you rather have a hot pizza of your preference or would you prefer to just drink a bowl of water because someone on the other side of the world might not like pizza?

20. The WWE Divas belt was iconic. I get the whole take women wrestlers seriously movement and I agree! But god damn it, it’s a Bratz belt!!! Gimme!!!!!

21. I fucking HATE koalas. They literally only exist because humans have dumped millions of dollars and keeping them alive. If natural selection were allowed to take his course, they would’ve died off 100 years ago. The food they consume has so little nutrition that they have evolved to have the smallest brain to cranium capacity of any animal to create a built in helmet!! Why? Cause they are so stupid they literally fall out of trees and drop their infants!!! They shit on their young and have permanent diarrhea due to the 0 nutrition thing. They carry chlamydia. They’re so fucking stupid they can’t fuck and have to be artificially inseminated to continue the population. If I couldn’t get laid on my own, the government would not drop millions of dollars into making sure I do!! So why did koalas get it? Literally a waste of resources that could be going to feed thousands of hungry children and instead we’re keeping a fucking retarded (I’m on the spectrum fuck you) animal alive who should have gone extinct hundreds of years ago cause it’s supposedly ‘cute’!! God! I hate koalas!

[lumiereandcogsworth]

1 3 8 13 and 16 for Adam 🫶🏻

thank youuuuu i talked too much because that’s My Boy so it’s under the cut now hahah

1. Why do you like or dislike this character? i like so MUCH about this boy!!!!!!!

i love how ridiculously hopeless and stubborn he is at the beginning. he hardly even cares that belle is there at first, she’s more a nuisance than anything.

i love that first moment when you see how truly scared he really is. after he sees belle in the mirror, the reflection returns to a regular mirror and he sees himself, sees the monster that he still is, and you just see how scared he is!!! he looks at the rose and he’s just!!! aahhh!!🥺🥺🥺 he wants to be freed, it’s just so hard for him to Try And Change.

i love how nerdy he is :3 like i just said this in a recent post but GOSH making him a pretentious asshole about books was just the most incredible thing the live action writers did to improve him. i LOVE how much of a nerd he is, and how suppressed it’s been his whole life!! i mean i don’t love that for him but it makes for a compelling character!! he’s been forced into such a specific box all his life and belle is the first person to be like “hey what if you just like. existed how you wanted to. i do it and it’s kinda fun :3” and he’s like “but everyone ridicules and bullies you” and she’s like “yeah, but i’m free.” (i don’t think they have this dialogue i think this is just like. the vibes exchanged between them. the sort of revelation that belle’s presence gives adam. anyway) i love the nerd boy

i love how DEEPLY he feels his emotions. like gosh when he’s sad, HE IS SAD. when he’s happy, HES SO HAPPY. he’s just so extreme all the time and i love it. especially with the way he loves!!! he’s so protective and worries so much about belle (and later their children) because he just loves them so so much. he can’t fathom anything happening to them. they’re his whole world 😭 he’s just… such a sweetheart🤧

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character? i am wracking my brain on this one bro. i actually saved it to answer last and i Still have nothing. i’m a canon girlie!! i love canon!!! canon is beloved to me!!! like sure it sucks that his mother died when he was a child?? or sucks that it’s very implied that his father was cruel and probably abused him?? but i still wouldn’t say those are least favorite because they make up who adam is! scars and all! demons and all! he’s a very sad and damaged little guy and he needs lots of love and hugs and kisses (enter: belle) but i don’t think there’s anything that is least favorite ?? i do always find his little Nest™️ in the corner of his room a little like… yikes 😬 but it also equally makes sense that he stopped sleeping in his own bed. the way his body is as a beast it probably Was more comfortable to sleep curled up on the floor 🤷‍♀️ so again it’s like!!! there’s a reason for everything!!! i don’t know the karma taylor swift lyrics but that’s me with canon. canon is my boyfriend, etc. etc.

8. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you despise? HOW MUCH FUCKING TIME DO YOU HAVE. the fandom does two very specific things that makes me want to grab my own torch and pitchfork and burn the place to the GROUND. the charges against the “fandom”:

refusing to call him by his name

wishing he’d remain a beast

*bangs gavel* the sentence? jail for one thousand years.

no but seriously why is everyone so stupid about my boy, hm? why is it so difficult to understand. i realize they don’t say his actual name in the movies, but disney has very much confirmed that adam his name. like why ? ? don’t you want him to have ? ? a name ? ? oh i’m so glad you asked. it stems to the second charge. they far prefer him to remain a beast (in the form that he hates, in the form he was punished to be in, in the form that prevents him from ever being human again, ever truly getting a chance at a normal life where he can be a good man) people prefer him to remain a beast and therefore DENY him his humanity (you guys remember he was born a human, right? you know this isn’t shrek, correct? okay just checking) and force him to be a monster.

LOOK. does belle make him comfortable, make him feel loved, make him see that beauty is found within? yes ! of course ! but no matter how comfortable belle makes him feel in his skin, this is Not The Form He Would Ever Choose To Remain In. i think people genuinely forget he was born a human. like for real i think that’s the main issue. they think we’re watching shrek. guys it’s not shrek. he’s a human being trapped in a body that isn’t his. i’ve seen a post by a trans person who connected with him because he was like “yeah being in a body that doesn’t feel like your own fucking sucks!!! i’m glad he got to be freed and be himself!!!” anyway, don’t know why everyone fails to understand such a simple concept. but i’m done here. WHEW. constantly angers me. i’ve lost count of the amount of people i’ve blocked for making some dumbass comment about favoring him in beast form or some shit. it’s why i don’t even really consider myself in the fandom because the “fandom” is filled with lunatics for some reason. ANYWAY !!!!!! moving on!

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot? okay in modern au i think he’s absolute rubbish at emojis. belle uses them constantly but adam never does, besides the occasional classic red heart ❤️ when he’s feeling particularly affectionate while texting belle or their kiddos. in terms of symbols and such, hmm. someday i’d really love to design his family crest. i also headcanon that maurice designs their OWN family crest that combines his and adam’s family crests. i’d love to design all these crests!!!! but anyway. i think adam is very cat-coded, so i think there’d be a big cat somewhere on the crest, like a lion. i think his wax seal stamp is just a really fancy AB (Adam de Beaumont) with some swirly flair around it. when i think of adam i think of books and maps and telescopes and the moon and cherry blossoms and clothes, he loves his clothes :3

16. What's your least favorite ship for this character? i don’t really think i have a least favorite ship! like, in my mind, you either follow canon and ship him with belle, his true love, his beloved darling, OR you deviate from canon and have some fun shipping him with others! i’ve always been a canon ship kind of girlie so while i don’t Entirely understand shipping him with others, it’s also like, you do you 🤝 i don’t particularly hate any other adam ships, they’re just not my cup of tea! but i get it like, he’s a cool character to ship with. i like dabbling in his past, pre-canon relationships every now and then myself. and that’s fun because he’s a different sort of man than he is with belle, but you can still see the little nuggets of true adam even in the early days. anyway i’m not the shipping police i’m just here for my blorbos. i care way more that we see eye-to-eye on the Treatment of adam, rather than who he’s paired with.

character asks!

[wandaluvstacos]

Chapter 42 of Good Investment is now up on my Patreon!

Good Investment is available at the $5/month tier. People who pledge $5 a month have access to not only Good Investment but The Sponsors series (ongoing), Pretty Things (complete), May the Blood Run Pure (complete), and Kept Man (complete), along with the $1/month tier books, the Reflections trilogy (ongoing) and The Halfwife (ongoing).

Adri Schvaneveldt has always felt split between two worlds. In one world, they are the adopted child of a large and conservative Mormon family. In another, she is the CEO of a burgeoning fashion empire that pushes boundaries. But in order to be the latter, Adri first has to find the funding. After gaining a hefty following as a social media influencer/model, Adri has the potential customers– if they can get a reliable production model pounded out. And that means a bit of groveling at the feet of investors, most of who have never even heard the term “non-binary”.

But Adri lucks out with Gideon Snow, whose youth and open mind bring much needed funds to make Adri’s dream of diverse, accessible fashion a reality. Of course, lifting a newborn company to its feet is no small task, and late nights drive Adri to occasional stays at Gideon’s nearby house, where their relationship begins stretching beyond business. Adri knows they can’t put an entire business venture at risk for the turbulent whims of their heart. But reason doesn’t always win out.

Excerpt:

Anthony snorted. “Fine, you know what? I’ll tell you the truth. The person who posted that picture reached out to me and asked me some questions before they posted it. I thought it was weird or whatever, but I also thought it was very funny.”

“What’s funny about this to you?”

“That you’re gay now or whatever, but, like, gay light? Christ, between you and Tiffany, there’s gotta be something in the water.”

Gideon wished he wasn’t high when having this conversation. It made sorting his thoughts and responses difficult. Was it even worth arguing with Anthony? He was going to believe what he wanted to believe. Who cares if he thought Gideon was gay? And yet, Gideon’s brain wasn’t at full capacity. “I’m not gay.”

“Kissing a man dressed like a woman is still gay.”

“You’re a fucking piece of shit.”

Anthony laughed. “What’s it like sucking dick?”

“What’s it like being a fucking…” Gideon brain shorted out, his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. While he stumbled to conjure words, Anthony laughed again.

“You coulda had your choice of hot 20-somethings, dude. Hell, maybe even 18 or 19-year-olds. You could have been drowningin pussy if you weren’t such a fucking cuck. Instead you’re sucking crossdresser dick. It’s sad. I don’t think you deserve death threats or any of that, but you can’t do degenerate shit without getting any pushback.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Gideon said, at a loss for what else to say.

“I’m alpha now. I’m on top of my shit.”

Gideon’s rage suddenly dropped off a cliff, and what followed was laughter—starting with a snort before descending into uncontrollable giggling.

“What the fuck?” Anthony said amidst Gideon’s onslaught.

“Alpha,” Gideon snickered, then started laughing again, this time louder. Oh yeah, he was still definitely high. He struggled to keep his grip on his phone as he wheezed for breath. He tried to say something but got caught by hysteria again.

“Fuck you,” Anthony snarled. “Fuck you and your soy boy bullshit.”

“Are you 13?” Gideon giggled. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

“At least I’m not gay.”

“Grow up.”

“Whatever, I actually don’t care about any of this, especially since you never helped me out with that loan I asked for. I don’t owe you shit. If my fans are being dickheads, that’s on them.”

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, MORE BLOOD Vol.13 Kino [Track 5 + Epilogue]

Original title: 箱庭の旋律 & エピローグ

Source: Diabolik Lovers More, More Blood Vol. 13 Kino [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (48:01 ~ 64:58)

Seiyuu: Tomoaki Maeno

Translator’s note: D A M N. Just like most MMB CDs, the main part of the CD ends with somewhat of a cliffhanger/bittersweet note. However, I would definitely rank this CD as one of my favorites in the series despite not having much attachment to Kino as a character! I’m super curious about his Another Story track so I’ll have to look for the audio of that one! If I find it, I’ll be sure to translate it for you guys as well!

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→  LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 5: Melody of the Miniature Garden

*Rattle*

“...Haah. Not this one either, huh? The next door’sーー”

You try and walk over to the next door but nearly collapse.

*Rustle*

“...Hey!”

Kino catches you just in time.

*Thud*

“You’re shaky in your steps...! You can’t walk any more. ...It can’t be helped, so let’s just take a small break for now.”

You try and act tough.

“...’Fine’, you say? Listen up, you don’t look that way at all. Why not just admit you’re having a hard time? It only causes extra trouble when you overexert yourself.”

You say sorry.

“Ah, no! I wasn’t trying to get you to apologize! ...Haah, it sucks how I end up taking out my anger on you. I have to admit, this situation has got me pretty freaked out as well.”

*Rustle*

“...Haven’t you been pushing yourself? I’ve been thinking you see...A human body’s fragile, unlike mine. On top of that, it’s my fault...things turned out this way.”

You shake your head.

“Look at you being way too nice for your own good again...I’m obviously to blame. It’s fine for you to get mad at me for getting you involved, you know?”

You comfort Kino. 

“That’s...Well, you’re right that I didn’t know this would happen. So in a sense you could say it is a case of force majeure. Honestly...Even in the most dire of situations, you never change, do you? I hope we can quickly find our way out and get to enjoy a nice, relaxing break at home. Just the two of us, while snacking on some konpeito.”

You agree.

“Makes sense. You want to get out of here as soon as possible as well, don’t you? In that case, let’s try our hardest to keep walking, okay?”

You get back on your feet.

“...As to be expected, you’re still shaky in your step and your complexion is pale as well. No matter how hard you try, you must be nearing your limit.”

*Cling*

“It’ll be hit or miss...But guess I should give it a shot.”

Your eyes widen in shock.

“I’d rather never use this cursed item again either but let’s use this to rewind time. If we go back to before we arrived at school, we should effectively make it out of this maze, right?”

You seem worried.

“I know! If this ‘bug’ gets any worse, then we might actually...But you know, if we stay here like this any longer, you’ll be in danger. Not just physically, but mentally as well, right? ...I’m sure you’re more than fed up with this suffocating place, aren’t you? It’s fine, I don’t need to hear your reply. It’s written all over your face. Let’s use this...to return home. And then, I’ll never use it again. I’m going back to my dull school life...!”

*Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock - Tick tock*

ーーー

“...!? We’re not at home...!? ...How come!? Why the broadcasting room...!?”

*Cling*

“There’s still magical energy left inside, so why did it fail!? Don’t tell me...Because this space has been distorted as well?”

You gasp.

“Eh...? What’s wrong?”

You point towards the wall. 

“...!! You’ve got to be kidding me. ...Why are there this many doors!? The whole entire wall is covered in them! On the ceiling...and even the floor as well!? What is going on...!? It’s gotten even worse than before!? Fuck...!!”

He rushes towards the ‘exit’.

*Rattle*

“Kuh...! It’s a hallway after all...”

*Rattle*

“This one too...!”

*Rattle*

“...What is going on!? Why are there hallways running even underneath the floor!? ...I guess I shouldn’t have rewinded time after all. We can’t return home either and now space has been even more distorted...! Why did things turn out like this!? ...Is it because I turned back time too much? Because I...used that Hourglass? Because of me...”

You start shivering.

“...!! Are you okay...? You’re shaking...Are you crying?”

Kino approaches you. 

“...Say. You don’t have to cry? I’m here with you. I’ll definitely fix this somehow! So...”

You suddenly burst out in laughter.

“...Eh? Why are you laughing...?

You start destroying the room in a frenzy.

*THUD*

*SHATTER*

“...Hey! Get a hold of yourself!

You press the ON button.

*Bzzzzzzzt*

“...Why did you turn that on!?”

Kino swiftly turns it off again.

“Look at me...!”

*Rustle*

“Get a grip! ...What exactly is so funny!?”

You tell him you are having so much fun.

“Hah...? What are you saying? How could you describe this as ‘having a fun school life’...!? This isn’t enjoyable in the slightest!”

You insist.

“Why do you keep on spouting nonsense? I don’t know if you’re just trying to be funny, but it’s not working!”

You continue talking like a lunatic.

“S...Shut up! Don’t speak another word!”

You ignore his pleas.

“Shut it! Don’t speak...!”

You chuckle again.

“Uu...Haah, haah...Ahー Fufu...Fufufu...I see...You’ve finally lost your mind, huh? I no longer know how much time has passed since we started, but I guess it was enough for your mind to break.”

*Rustle*

“I wonder if I’m to blame for this as well? I played with both time and you...It’s my fault. My sin. In that case...I might as well...!”

Kino grabs hold of you and bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...I no longer care. If we can’t escape this anyway, I’ll just enjoy it instead. ...As long as you’re here with me, I can enjoy myself like this. ...You’re having fun as well, aren’t you?”

You nod.

“Knew it. I figured you’d nod. Although I no longer know if those are your true feelings, or if your madness has taken over. I don’t care. Either way works...I love you.”

*Rustle*

“I’ll suck you gently this time, okay? Try telling me where you want my fangs. ...You understand? Can you do that?”

You ask to be bitten above your chest.

“...Fufu~ So that’s where you want it, huh? ...Understood. As you wish, I’ll thrust them all the way to your heart, and suck your blood.”

Kino bites you once more.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Hah! ...Ahahaha! Seems like somebody is enjoying themselves. Your face is bright red, how shameless of you! Did it feel good to have me suck you gently? ...However, are you okay? Your body seems to be twitching and convulsing. Well...I guess you like it when it’s a little painful.”

*Rustle*

“...Say. I know why you chose the chest, you know? You want to overwrite the painful reality with an even stronger sensation of pain and pleasure, don’t you? You want to forget, even if for just one second. I felt better once I had your blood as well. ...I mean, it’s mind-blowingly delicious after all.”

You ask him to bite you again.

“...Yeah. You’re craving for it again, huh? I know. I haven’t had nearly enough either.”

*Rustle*

“Well then, where should I suck from next?”

Kino ponders for a bit.

“Right. I’ll suck from your ear next. I quite like biting you here. With the sound echoing straight to your skull, I’m sure it’ll make for quite the intense experience. I bet that’s the ultimate reward anyone could give you today?”

*Smooch*

“...Nice reaction. You’ve gotten rather sensitive, haven’t you? You want it that badly?”

You nod.

“Fufu~ I see. ...But when you yearn after me that strongly, it makes me want to torment you instead. I suppose it wouldn’t be bad to tease you a little.”

You beg him not to.

*Rustle*

“Fufu~ Look at you clinging onto me because you want my fangs so badly. What happened to the usual pure act? Don’t you feel ashamed, acting this way towards a man? Well, I guess you’ve lost all reason right now. ...But rest assured, I love you regardless.”

You beg for his fangs again.

“...I know, I know. You can barely wait, can you? I was just feeling thirsty again as well, so I’ll suck you plenty.”

Kino bites you a third time.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Hah. Mm~ ...Sweet. I can clearly tell just how worked up you are right now. ...For some reason, I’m starting to feel more and more fine with the current situation. You told me earlier while laughing, didn’t you? That you’re happy to be able to attend school together with me. I bet you wouldn’t be able to endure this situation if you didn’t tell yourself that, no? That as long as I’m with you, everything will be fine. I doubt you’d be able to keep going otherwise, would you? 

...I feel the same way. Just the two of us. That’s how it should be. ...Exactly, it’s perfect! Ideal! The ultimate form of happiness! We’re alone here...So there’s nobody else to get in our way. I wonder why I panicked that much earlier? There honestly was no need to. I mean, even if we’re locked up in here forever, I can simply have fun with you. As long as I have you, that’s all I need.”

You agree.

“Right? I’m glad we both feel the same way. Locked in each other’s embrace foreverーー kissing you, sucking your blood...Honestly, school life really is a blast! Fufu...Ahahahaha...Ahahaha!!!”

Track 6: Epilogue

“...Say, you’re still not satisfied, are you? ...You want more, don’t you? ...Sure. I’ll give it to you.”

Kino bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Hah! ...Haah, haah...How’s that? I bet it feels pretty nice when I suck from your shoulder as well? There’s little flesh, so I’m sure you can clearly feel my fangs sinking in? ...Shall I bite the same spot once more? I’m sure that’ll...”

*Rustle*

“...Huh? ...Oh. You’ve lost consciousness? I wonder when that happened? I got so absorbed in sucking your blood, I didn’t even realize. ...Fufu~ I’m sorry for making you go through all of this. However, I promise. No matter what happens, I’ll stay by your side forever. ...So you can rest assured. ...Sweet dreams, my Princess.”

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

[watermelonlipstick]

Junkyard

PG-13 oneshot: semi-angst into fluff. Thanks so much for reading!! I would love any advice or critiques, and please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in anything :) 

Title: Junkyard

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2170

Summary: Bobby’s a little too overprotective of you with Dean. Sam is very much a younger brother about it.

gif not mine! please let me know if you know whose it is so I can give them credit!

Dean’s hand slipped under your t-shirt, his fingers ice cold from the Sioux Falls October night. You gripped his collar with one hand, the other running through his gelled hair. The tip of his nose was cool against your cheek as his lips crashed into yours, and you nipped at him with your tongue. He answered in kind, pulling you into him. Your jeans slid on the trunk of the old junk car under the pressure until you were ground up against Dean’s belt where he stood. He slipped his other hand into your hair, gripping the base of your neck and exposing your throat before kissing and sucking hungrily. You groaned involuntarily and could feel Dean smile into your soft skin. Sliding down his chest, you gripped his belt buckle and flicked it open with one hand, your turn to grin when Dean gasped softly.

           He leaned into you, the hand on your head lowering you urgently but gently onto the trunk. The exposed skin on your back screamed at the freezing cold metal but you didn’t care, trying to yank him over you like a blanket while he tore at his jacket.

           “Boy if you don’t get that poor girl inside I’ll tan your ass and use it as a coin purse! It’s damn near freezing out! You must think I’m pretty goddamn stupid and I’ll tell you: I was born at night but it wasn’t last night!” Bobby yelled from the house, his voice carrying over the salvage yard.

           “Fuck,” Dean pulled away to whisper through gritted teeth. He pressed his forehead into you, waiting for a beat while you both caught your breath before leaning back to offer a hand. You took it and hopped down from the perch of the trunk. Feeling in the dark for any major bumps, you adjusted your ponytail and yanked your shirt down to meet the waist of your jeans. Dean re-buckled his belt and held out his arm so you could go first back to Bobby’s house.

           Coming through the door, the first thing you saw was Sam sitting at the kitchen table. He smiled up at you slyly without raising his head, and you were thankful that the cold air had already flushed your cheeks. Bobby was a few steps behind him, thankfully looking past you at Dean. If looks could kill, Dean would be burning alive.

           “How was your, uh, walk?” Sam asked with the kind of smug grin only he could deliver.

           “Fine,” you said briskly, adding a tight lipped nod. Sam looked past you to Dean, whose smile was popped open at the edge by his tongue in his cheek. You shot him a warning look and he closed his mouth.

           “Great,” Dean added.

           Bobby slammed down the casserole dish he was holding with enough force that you listened for the Pyrex to crack. “Here you go then,” he said, even more gruffly than normal.

           Dinner was so awkward and silent that it made you sick to your stomach. You tried your best to look only down at your plate, the glances you stole showing Sam’s barely contained glee at Dean having been caught out and Bobby’s barely contained disdain at it. When you finally finished your plate, you grabbed all the empty dishes within reach and headed to the kitchen sink with them. “Thanks for dinner, Bobby! I’m beat, I’ll see you all tomorrow!” you threw over your shoulder as you went, feeling for all the world like a frog trying to climb out of a near-boiling pot.

           “Not so fast, kid,” Bobby barked. You set the dishes down quietly in the sink and marched back to your seat at the table. “We need to have a talk.”

           Sam sat still, but you could tell from the expression on his face that he would’ve been exploding out of his chair with schadenfreude if he could.

           “I’ll leave you guys alone, then. Goodnight! Dinner was great, Bobby,” Dean said, playing dumb in an effort to escape himself. Bobby slapped one open palm on the table hard and the older Winchester returned to his seat. Dean had been keeping it together remarkably well, but the color drained from his face as he settled.

           Bobby sat silently for a few agonizing moments before speaking. “Now. I know you boys haven’t had a lot of experience living with a young woman before—”

           “Oh. My. God.” Sam said under his breath excitedly. Bobby glared at him.

           “But I will be damned if you plan on treating this house like some sleazy frat basement!” he yelled, building steam. You were absolutely mortified, unable to even look at Dean or Sam. “Now get your dumb asses up and go to bed. Don’t make me give this speech again.” His voice was low and grim as you got up and pushed your chair in. Sam and Dean got up too, but you heard Bobby growl a dark “sit” to Dean as you and Sam walked away. You felt a tinge of guilt at leaving him alone, but it was nothing compared to the dread that fell over you at the thought of sitting at the table a second longer.

           Sam followed you up the stairs. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “You think he’s going to kill him?” You knew he was joking, but were scared at what Bobby was going to say to Dean anyway. It was ridiculous, for three adults to be wrapped up so much in the opinion of a man who wasn’t the real father of any of you, and yet you felt exactly like a reprimanded child.

           You changed quickly into a big old t-shirt and worn cotton sweatpants, padding down the hallway in a messy bun to wash your face and brush your teeth when Bobby started yelling. Sam shot his head out of the bathroom curiously and came to the stair landing with you to listen.

           “This is not a random girl in some town you’re passing through, Dean!”

           Dean responded too quietly for you and Sam to hear.

           “That’s how you treat her with respect? Slip her out the back door to fool around in a damn junkyard?!” You heard a crash that you thought sounded like one of the chairs being tossed to the ground. When Bobby spoke again he was quieter; Sam and you leaned in to hear him.

           “If you make that girl shed one tear, boy, so help me God you’ll be wishing you were back in Hell.”

           Sam sucked air through his teeth, wincing. You realized your mouth was hanging open, stunned both that Bobby could cut that deep and that he seemed not to trust you to protect yourself at all. You weren’t stupid; of course you knew Dean’s reputation. On some level, you were worried he might live up to it. But for now he was gorgeous and it was a little lonely staying with Bobby up in Sioux Falls. You were having fun, and the fallout was for you to beat yourself up about in the future, not now.

           When you heard movement in the kitchen, you darted into the bathroom and Sam tried to head down the stairs casually to the day bed in the library. You brushed your teeth and washed your face brusquely, making it back to the spare bedroom without seeing Bobby head to the other bedroom upstairs. Pulling the old comforter over you on the old brass bed, you fell asleep fitfully.

           You woke with a start feeling like you were being watched. Based on the dim glow creeping through the slats between your blinds, it was at least a few hours after you went to sleep. When you scanned the room, Dean’s silhouette filled the doorframe.

           “What’re you doing?” you whispered urgently.

           “I wanted to see if you were up,” he answered, stepping into the room so that the moonlight illuminated his face. The shape of his full lips made you ache, the shadow of his jaw onto his neck begging to be touched. You realized as always that his socked feet were his only concession to the hour; his “pajamas” were his still-belted jeans with a t-shirt.

           “I’m up now, what’s going on?” Dean kept took a few more steps into the room toward you, biting his lip slowly. You got up to your elbows, the old bed’s springs creaking underneath you. “What’re you doing?” you repeated. “Bobby’s going to kill us,”

           “I think you mean Bobby’s going to kill me,” he smiled, half of his face obscured by shadow. He was standing at the foot of your bed now, fiddling with the hem of a blanket. “Seems pretty interested in protecting you from the big bad womanizer.”

           “Yeah, I heard some of that,” you offered cautiously.

           “Figured you and Sam would be listening. Hear everything?”

           “Not everything, but enough. So come on, don’t poke the bear. Go to sleep, I’ll see you tomorrow.” You laid back down, tucking the comforter up under your chin. Dean didn’t move.

           “You don’t want me here?”

           You smiled in the dark. “Dean, Bobby’s room is like 15 feet away.”

           “Guess we’ll have to be quiet then.”

           Dean rounded the corner of the bed and leaned down, grazing your lips with his. He knew what he was doing, and you could only hold out for a second before greedily snatching the back of his head and sliding your mouth onto his. The bed groaned in response to the extra weight and you pulled away sharply, alarmed at the noise.

           Dean grabbed the extra blankets you kept at the foot of your bed for extra cold nights in Bobby’s drafty Midwestern house and spread them on the floor in a sort of picnic-nest before spinning around and picking you up off the bed, comforter and all. You put a hand over your mouth to keep from giggling as he lowered you both down onto the blankets. “Better?” he asked as you nodded into his chest. Warmth came off of him through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, seeping into you like melting honey. Easing down until your chests pressed together, he kissed you deeply and softly without any of the urgency he had in the junkyard. You relished in the roughness of his hands and stubble on you as he took his time exploring your lips and neck. Dean pulled away to take a breath, leaning back on his knees.

           “Wait,” he whispered.

           “What’s wrong?” you spit out, scared he might’ve heard something in the hallway.

           Dean looked down at you and the shadows caught all the angles in his face. He looked into your eyes and then out the window, biting his lip.

“I’m not just messing around,” he finally said. There must’ve been enough moonlight for him to see your face because Dean pursed his lips in frustration. “I mean what Bobby said is not true. Or maybe it was before, but not now, not with you. I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you.”

“Dean, I know what this is, it’s okay. You don’t have to worry about ‘sparing my feelings’ or whatever,” you replied, touching his chest. He grabbed your wrist.

“Sparing your feelings? No, that’s what I mean. I want it to be more than…this,” he said, gesturing to the blankets surrounding you on the floor. “I just, I want to be, like, with you,” he mumbled.

“Are you serious?” you replied, sitting up.

“I, uh, I mean yeah,” he said, leaning back onto his heels. “If you want to.” Seeing Dean shy and nervous like a teenager this way was unusual, and it caught you off guard.

“Uh, wow,” you breathed, unsure of what to say. “I didn’t know you like, dated, or whatever.”

He let out a chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah I guess I don’t really, huh?”

“So this is you asking me out?”

“Yeah. But only if you’re going to say yes.” The half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth looked more like the Dean you knew.

“And if I did, would that make this our first date?” you asked, pulling at a loose thread from your sweatpants’ hem.

“I was thinking dinner or something, but I mean, sure, why not?”

“Hmmm, bummer,” you thought aloud with a smile. “Thought you’re not supposed to have sex until the third date.”

Without Dean’s hand behind your head it would’ve cracked against the floorboards with the force of him suddenly slamming into you, but instead you were enveloped in his kiss and the scent of leather and pine that always floated around him. You giggled into his lips when you felt Dean grin against you, and he pulled away a few centimeters. Your breath mixed as he asked, “That’s a yes, right?” It was all you could do to nod as you melted into each other, turning into a tangle of muffled little laughs, discarded clothes, and heavy, warm breaths.

~

ETA: Did you know there’s a Junkyard, Part 2? Might be worth checking out 😉

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

Tags: @sams-sass​, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​

[imonthinice]

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 16/?

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name

I put two days into this chapter<3  I guess the timeline may speedup a bit<3

Warnings: Jail discussion, Victim Shaming, Fighting, Mentions of Injury, Disassociation, Disconnect, Trauma, Swearing, Mentions of alcoholism and drug use, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Family game night was well underway in the Wayne Manor when Y/N got a phone call from the prison that Justine Wong, her high school friend who went to jail protecting her, was incarcerated in until her trial or the man who attempted to assault Y/N dropped the charges. 

She excused herself and went outside in the Autumn weather to take the call.

“Hello.”

“This is an automated call from Gotham County Prison from Inmate ‘Justine Wong’, to accept this call please press 1.”

She did as such.

“Thank you for your cooperation. All inmate calls are recorded. Your account balance is $50.69.”

“Hello?” Justine asked into the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. Why are you calling? Are you alright?” Y/N asked.

“I need you to come here and get me a lawyer.”

“You’re up my ass right now, aren’t you? I thought he was dropping the charges?”

“He isn’t. Christopher, Thomas, Kaitlin and I seriously need your help now.”

“Are you all in the same prison?”

“Yes, they transferred over the boys yesterday because of this. We can all meet in a recorded room while you get us a lawyer.”

“Fuck, dude. Uh,” she thought about game night, but decided this was more important, “Do you need me now?”

“Yes, we can all get into the room and then you can meet us, I think the jail is 10-20 minutes of a walk away from the Manor?”

“Fuck. Okay. I’ll be there.”

Click. She thought about going back inside and asking someone to drive her to the jail, but she was also just not prepared to answer anyone’s questions about it. It was cold outside, but if she ran she could get there in 10 minutes. But that’s when Bruce joined her outside, she assumed Jason sent him because he was crushing his siblings in Monopoly at the moment.

“So, I’m friends with the commissioner of the county, Jim Gordon,” Bruce said, “And I know what your friends are dealing with.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s plastered all over the news or anything,” she said to Bruce, with a slight [massive] amount of sarcasm tinged in her voice.

“Do your parents know?”

“If they did I wouldn’t be in Gotham anymore.”

“Do you need a ride to the jail?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that, no issue.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“Anytime,” he said before leading her to one of his cars.

------------------------------------------

In the car, Y/N tried to keep up conversation with Bruce, it was a short drive but the time seemed to slow and he could tell she wasn’t talkative. This was, what he thought was likely, very, very stressful for her. He was used to this, the court dates, the police station, but he knew that her attackers’ court dates were coming up and she was going to need emotional support, since her parents weren’t in the city.

He didn’t know how to support her as the dad of her boyfriend, he’d probably just mention it in passing to Jason and Jason would deal with her. ‘Deal with’ probably was not the way to describe the girl that his son was dating, especially when she’s in as much emotional distress as Y/N clearly was in that moment, but Bruce was terrible with wording. 

She didn’t even want him to bother with her emotions about it all, because she didn't know how she felt. She didn’t know anything about the situation and how it made her feel, she just froze in the sight of this confrontation and hid from it all behind a mask of seeming to know what she was doing.

They pulled up to the prison, and she got out of the car and waved off Bruce before walking to the front desk and saying who she was and why she was there, providing her ID if need be. They led her into the backrooms, and told her that the room was being recorded and that she couldn’t touch them before letting her in the room.

She looked at the 4 of her friends who were all being charged with assault and battery.

“Y/N?” Thomas asked.

“This... this is surreal. Didn’t think we’d ever end up like this,” she said, looking at the floor before crossing her arms.

“What do we do now?” Kaitlin asked.

“Do any of your parents have enough money to pay for a lawyer? I can call them for you,” Y/N said.

“You didn’t already call them?” Christopher asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been pretending this entire thing doesn’t exist, I don’t want it to exist.”

“But we need a lawyer,” Justine snapped.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well you should have gotten us a lawyer!” Justine snapped again, raising her voice.

“Now is not the time to yell at her, Justine,” Thomas interrupted.

“Shut up, Thomas! You,” she turned to Y/N, “Look at me! Look what you made us do and you can’t even look us in the eyes!”

“I didn’t make you do anything, Justine.”

“You’re the one who’s a fucking alcoholic and can’t handle her drinks so she almost got raped! You’re pathetic.”

“Now is not the time to victim shame me, Justine” Y/N sighed, “What you’re saying is very hurtful and makes me not wish to help you anymore, understood? You can lash out at me to get the anger out, but this isn’t my fault and you know it,” she said, finally locking eyes with Justine.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

They continued talking about what to do for hours, with Y/N ignoring most advances Justine made to prove the point that yes, she was pissed at Justine about what she had said to Y/N.

Y/N wasn’t taking anyone’s shit anymore. Ever since she met Jason, and pissed off the press, she stopped letting people get away with everyone, she stopped telling people what they wanted to hear.

And people were noticing, especially her 4 friends in that room. She was trying to get better, to recover so she wouldn't relapse, and it was obvious. 

“Y/N?” Justine said.

“Justine?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am aware. I’ll be calling your parents when we’re done here.”

“So do you forgive me?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you.”

“You’ve changed.”

“Good,” she turned to the other 3, “Anything you 3 want before I leave?”

“Nope, that’s it,” Thomas said, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“That’s everything yeah,” Kaitlin said, “Thanks, man.”

“What they said,” Christopher joked, “Thanks.”

“Alright, I love you 3, I’ll try to arrange phone calls with you 3,” she said putting emphasis on the word 3. Oh yeah, she was pissed.

She would leave the room without even saying ‘goodbye’ to Justine. She would tell the police she was done with the meeting. They asked who would be handling getting lawyers to the 4 kids, she said she would call their parents. Commissioner Gordon walked up to her and held out his hand, “You must be Jason’s girlfriend. I’ve know that kid all his life basically, I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon,” he said.

“Y/N,” she said, shaking his hand.

“I know these last 2 weeks have been extremely stressful for you, Y/N,” he said.

“I think everyone’s caught onto that.”

“I called Bruce to come get you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

-----------------------------------

Meeting new people filled her with a lot of life after the hell she was pulled through. From stabbing, to head injuries, to friendships crumbling, to court, Y/N was being strewn through the wringer.

She knew it would calm down eventually, she was just being put through a few bad weeks for a lifetime of happiness, and she hoped that happiness was with Jason.

She couldn’t think much longer when Bruce pulled up and she got to the car.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know, Bruce?”

“I do. The justice system can be draining.”

“You could say that again,” she joked, “So, where do I start? Well, I get in there and tensions are high, obviously. I’m sure prison sucks when they shouldn’t really be there, they did the job the vigilantes here do, and we all let them do it. Anyway... my friend I guess, she comes at my throat about my attack,” she paused, trying to swallow her pain, “Starts blaming me for it, uses my alcoholic past against me, you know, the stuff you shouldn’t do. I don’t care if she’s right and I shouldn’t have drank, but she fucking led me to the bar.”

She fumbled with her hands a bit, still trying to not cry, “Anyway, I told her that she can’t talk to me like that, that I won’t let her talk to me like that and she apologized. Guess what? I said ‘You should be.’ and I know that might not mean much to you, Bruce, but I would have never stood up for myself like that had I not met your son, you did something right with that boy, Bruce, I swear,” she joked, “But that was about it, I have to call everyone’s parents to get them lawyers, but that’s it.”

“I figured you had a backbone from the start, kid,” Bruce said in response.

“You kidding? I had to ask Jason if you would hate me for flipping off the press? I’ve never, ever had a backbone.”

“Well maybe, besides the lack of protection,” he joked, “Maybe Jason and you are a good couple.”

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

“Thanks, Bruce. Really. Your kids are a hoot to hang out with and you’re not half-bad yourself, old man.”

“Are you going to start calling me that, too?”

“Maybe jokingly.”

“I’m not that old, kiddo.”

“You just called me kiddo and you think I don’t deserve to say you’re old? Really? Bruce, c’mon, you’re smarter than that.”

“You don’t deserve it. You’re just going to do it.”

She laughed, “About the protection lecture, I wouldn't have done it if I wasn’t on the pill, Bruce. I appreciate the concern, but you were so wrong about us ‘not being prepared’.”

He laughed, “Maybe you should have said something.”

“You never asked me, Bruce.”

“I wouldn't make a good detective, then.”

“That’s why Commissioner Gordon is on the cases I’m involved in, and not you.”

He paused, “Isn’t your head-butting buddy’s trial starting tomorrow?”

“It is.”

“Are you going to watch it?” he asked, off-handedly, “I think Dick might, just to see what the ‘sicko’ looks like.”

“I’m definitely going to watch it,” she laughed, “Might even make it an essay for school.”

“Well that’s one way to handle it.”

“Might as well turn the sick fuck who tried to turn me into a ransom note be turned into a 100% in my classes. Call it; Classy Revenge.”

They pulled into the driveway together, while Bruce was laughing at the comment Y/N made. She laughed, too. It helped heal some of the wounds she experienced over the 2 weeks of knowing Jason, even some of the prior wounds. Bruce told her that the kids were still playing Monopoly, none of them had apparently gone bankrupt yet, it was 12:00am.

To say she was impressed with Jason and his siblings would be an understatement, she remembered playing Monopoly with her family, and they’d all always declare bankruptcy within an hour or so, and thee was never a back-to-back winner when they all played.

Maybe they were bad at managing money, maybe thee Wanes just were too stubborn to declare bankruptcy and they bent the rules of Monopoly a little bit to suit their family, she didn’t know.

They walked into the house and sat back down, Y/N at Jason’s side where she had been the 4, or-so, hours before. Everyone seemed to acknowledge her presence and wished to ask her what happened, but no one knew how to bring it up to her. They knew she wasn’t used to the life of court and trials, the needing to talk to police, it was really one the Waynes and the kids of police officers that were used to tat stuff.

She pretended to not notice them wanting to ask her and opened her phone while Jason tried to negotiate for the 4th railroad from Tim, to see her mother texted her.

How are you, sweetheart? Her mum had asked.

I’m fine, mum. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

I should, but I can’t sleep thinking about the trial of your attacker

Same. It’s such a stressful situation.

I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling through all of this.

She couldn’t put how she felt into words. How the way that the moments she was in the alleyway made her feel. the way that man’s face was burned into her memory to be a constant reminder tat she wasn’t safe wherever she went. It was something she had never experienced before.

Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was pain.

I don’t know how I’m feeling either, Mum.

How’s your nose?

It’s healed basically. No more nosebleeds at random intervals.

You didn’t tell me about the nosebleeds.

I didn’t tell anyone about the nosebleeds, Mum.

Why not?

I don’t need people to worry about me, to feel for me, to make their times and schedules molded to fit me. Good intentions or not, I don’t need charity hand outs.

Then do we stop paying your rent?

Well, I mean you could. I wouldn’t stop you from stopping paying my rent, but the difference is that you giving me money is to keep me at the top of the school, to make myself the best I can be.

How badly would your studies be impacted if we stopped paying your bills?

Probably massively. Don’t worry, mum. It’s a two-year program and then I can get my own job and make enough money. I’ll get you a little house on a hill and you can be the Queen of the Hill.

That’s nice of you honey. We should both try to sleep if we’re trying ot catch the trial today.

Goodnight, Mum.

they were all still glued to the game, when Barbara chose she would  take the risk and ask Y/N about the meeting.

“So, how was it?” she asked, innocently.

“How much time do you have?”

“We have pretty much all night, the others can go at this till the trial tomorrow,” she joked.

“I mean, challenge accepted,” Y/N laughed, “So, we pull up to the county jail, right. I wave off Bruce, no big deal, everything was going to plan, which should have honestly been my first sign that things were going to be fucked, but I digress,” she paused, “I walk in, give the lady my ID and she looks at m funny, like she knew that I had been drinking underage in that moment and was disappointed in me, as she should be.”

She fiddled with her hands, “So they lead me to the back and before they do they tell me the usual, I can’t touch any of them and my conversation with them will be recorded, then they let me in. I greet everyone like the good friend I am but tensions are high and everyone’s on edge, which is understandable, but.”

Jason perked up when she put emphasis on but, knowing the story was about to get real, really quickly.

“My friend Justine, she called me to get me there, she starts going at me about how this is my fault for being an ex-alcoholic and drinking, which, yes, i should not have been drinking. But she lead me to the bar,” she paused, “She starts blaming me for how I almost got raped and putting them all in there, whatever,” she paused again, “I basically told her that if she wanted my help she was going to have to behave and be nice to me, to which, she apologized,” she paused.

“You didn’t accept that apology, right?” Stephanie asked.

“God, no. I said I’d consider forgiving her. Everyone else was fine though. anyway, I have to call their parents and get them in contact with a lawyer soon.”

“You’re still doing that even after that whore victim-shamed you?” Jason said, he seemed in awe that Y/N would be so kind to someone who did her so wrong.

“Jay, I’m borderline legally obligated to do that,” Y/N said, “I wouldn’t do it if she hadn’t saved me.”

“I think you still shouldn’t do it,” Damien said.

“And you seem very vengeful, Damien. But that’s only sometimes me.”

“Look, thou shalt not sin or whatever, love thy neighbor or whatever, but that girl wronged you in that conversation, do you really owe it to her to call her parents?” Tim asked.

“You know, for a family who’s known for being the ‘Nice Billionaires’ you all tend to really hate my choices,” she joked.

“Don’t make dumb ones, and we wouldn’t judge,” Tim retorted.

”Okay, smartass. I hope you go bankrupt.”

-------------------------------------------

Waking up next to Jason on the day of her attacker’s trial was something to her. The comforting aura of the room seemed to be stripped away because the sun hadn’t risen, the blinds didn’t need to be closed, and Jason wasn’t cuddled up next to her.

She would find him already dressed, pacing back and forth in his room. For her 3 back-to-back days of being in Jason’s house without going home, she never saw him this actively distressed about anything. But given the situation they found themselves in, it was understandable.

Someone actively threatened her life for an attempt at a ransom on her name, because she was now tied to Bruce Wayne, and Bruce had money. Of course, for the Wayne household, the kids and Bruce were used to ransom attempts on themselves, with some of them actually being taken hostage before, but Y/N wasn’t.

She defended herself, and since it was, thankfully, caught on camera unlike the attack on her attempted-rapist, she didn’t have to appear in court, she didn’t even need to video her side of the story, she wrote it in a letter and sent it to the District Attorney's office. The District Attorney, being the prosecutor, was obligated to give her statement to the defense, so she was curious as to how her words would be spun to fit their narrative.

Jason and Y/N were both in the criminal psychology major at their college, they both knew what they were in store for, and they both had the ability to tear the defendant into pieces the minute he spoke. If, he spoke, that is.

Jason didn’t seem to notice that she was awake. He was really lost in his own thoughts, his own concerns. He stopped pacing though, and he was just staring at his laptop, possibly zoned out from the situation.

She got up as quietly as she could and went to hug him from, she could hear him let out a little chuckle, so she greeted him, “Good morning, Jay.”

“I thought you were still sleeping,” he turned to look at her.

“I was, but I woke up, that’s how that works,” she joked.

“That’s insane I would have never thought people wake up after they sleep,” he said with heavy sarcasm, “The more you know.”

“Insane, I know,” she said, “I still don’t even have clothes here,” she laughed, “I really need to go home eventually.”

“No you don’t, what?” he said with more sarcasm, “You can just wear my clothes, baby.”

“I don’t think they’ll fit, Jay, I think you forget you are literally massive.”

He laughed, “Listen, being massive is not my fault.”

“How is it not your fault?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“I am asking questions, I am curious now.”

“Shhh,” he joked, “No need to worry.”

“Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and he’s got rippling abs? But zero cause for concern? Where do you even find the time?”

“Well, when you’re not over it’s during my downtime.”

“Can’t believe you won’t work out in front of me,” she laughed, “That’s just rude.”

“You already have free entertainment here,” he joked.

----------------------------------------------

Somehow she found clothes that somewhat fit her so she could go downstairs and watch the start of the trial. She didn’t know if she could sit through the entire trial, she was victim. No one expected her to be able to sit through the entire thing. It was a lot different from studying trials to actually being a part of the trial.

There was more of an all-seeing-eye presence in the living room of the Wayne Manor that morning before the trial began. The sounds of reporters through the television while everyone sat and waited for it to begin, it was not something many would enjoy.

There would be an ending to this story, to this court case, whether it was a month from that moment on that couch or a year from that moment. There would be justice for that bullshit. 

Part of her didn’t even want the trial. She wanted the man to take a plea deal. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight when murders were happening. But no one would let it go, a beautiful woman being hurt in an attack against her? It was the kind of stuff that the news sources wanted, craved, from every court case.

And that was the thing about it. She didn’t want to be the tabloids newest escapade into being more and more corrupt, broken, deceitful. 

She looked to the television as Jason put his arm around her, bracing for any sort of reaction to the news. No one really knew how she was going to react. And then it started.

Cameras were being let into the courtroom and panning over to him. The man who had attacked her in the alleyway. She subconsciously brought her hand up to her nose and felt it. For a moment, it was like she was back in that alleyway, head-butting that man and then running to the Manor. But she wasn’t there and she knew that, trying to snap herself out o that state brought nothing, though. It took the Judge having to shush the entirety of the courtroom to get her attention back to the real world.

The Judge would introduce himself to the press, but mainly to the court, and then request opening statement. Or at least, Y/N thought that was what he was doing. She didn’t really know what was going on, something pulled her away from the court trial she was witnessing for the man who attacked her.

To the outside, the people surveying her to make sure she was okay, her eyes seemed to glaze over and she seemed to just disconnect from the situation. But they didn’t realize she had disconnected. She just looked to be in thought.

She saw colours fade in and out of her sight, people showing up in front of her, him showing up in her sights, the images dancing in her mind as if she was there in that courtroom.

The time began to slur in her mind. Hours became minutes to her. And before she knew it, court had ceased fro the day. She was snapped out of it by Jason letting her go. He offered to drive her home, she agreed.

-----------------------------------

“Y/N?” Jason asked while they were in the car.

“Uh huh?”

“Are you alright?”

“Good question,” she answered, flatly.

“Are you?” he asked, seeming more concerned.

“Probably not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Is that a no?”

“Mhm.”

He reached to place a hand on her thigh, attempting to comfort her, “That’s okay,” he said, “You don’t need to talk about it.”

“Mhm.”

He sighed, “I’ve decided something,” he said, “I’m going to spend the night at yours, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay.”

“You still don’t have to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“Okay, here,” he smiled, “Have I told you the full story about the time that we did chair-racing in the halls of Wayne Manor?” he asked.

“No, you haven’t.”

“Well, what happened was we ended up flying down the halls at like 4 in the morning, right? Well,” he paused, “Dick used to be an acrobat, so when he almost went flying off the stairs, he actually caught himself on a handstand on the rails. Chair still went flying,” he said.

She smiled a little bit. He knew he was doing something right.

“We ended up breaking a vase. Bruce was okay with it because it wasn’t his parents, but Alfred was pissed at us for it. Grounded us all for weeks about it.”

“As he should.”

“Look at me go, getting multiple word answers out of you, and I even got you to crack a smile,” he laughed and grabbed her hand to hold it, “I’m just so good at this boyfriend thing.”

She smiled again. The smiles wouldn’t last for long, but they did happen. He knew the trial was traumatic for her. He could tell. Just from the way she drooped after the trial ended, she could normally not shut up when it came to Jason, so this was out of character.

When they got to her house, he would walk, basically lead her, to her house. She was so far disconnected from everything, that he even just let her rest in her bed with his clothes on and her shoes still on, because she wasn’t functioning. 

He would crawl into bed with her and let her rest her head on his chest. 

[justthehiddleswrites]

Follow My Lead | Tom Hiddleston x OFC | Chapter 11 |  I love her and the sooner you get used to it, the better things will be.

A/N: This will update every Thursday.  There are 13 chapters.  There are all sorts of kinds of D/s relationships.  This is the one I choose to write this time.  

MASTERLIST HERE

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Vivian Swann)

Summary: Tom and Vivian have both been unlucky in love, searching for something outside of the bounds of a typical relationship.  When the two of them connect via a dating app, Tom is introduced to the idea of being submissive to Vivian.  Which is the one thing he never knew he needed.  Under the firm hand of Vivian, Tom learns what it means to submit and Vivian learns what it means to be in a loving dominant relationship.  But not everyone seems to understand what they have and the best intentions can destroy the strongest relationship.

This Chapter: Benedict keeps pushing on Tom, causing tension.  And Vivian visits the set and encounters an assistant who seems interested in Tom in a less than professional manner.  

Warnings for story: Dominant/submissive relationship (sub!Tom), lots of smut including but not limited to: vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), edging, denial, teasing, use of restraints, spanking, multiple orgasm, anal play, use of toys.

Tag Lists Are Open!  Let me know if you want to be added.  Thank you for reading!

-

“Did you and Ben have a good time?” Vivian asked in the car.

“We did.” Tom half lied. The time was enjoyable, but the constant prodding from Ben was beginning to grate.

“You’re lying.” Vivian crossed her arms.

“No, I’m not.” Tom dug his heels in on this. He could handle Ben on his own.

“Yes, you are. Is Ben giving you a hard time? And don’t lie. It’s so unbecoming.”

Tom sighed. “Yes, darling.”

“Want me to handle it?”

“No!” Tom retorted a bit too abruptly, earning a glare from Vivian. “I mean, no.” He tempered his voice. “I can handle Benedict. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I do worry.” She reached out and rubbed his neck. “It’s my job to worry.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He gripped the steering wheel. “It’s nothing. I’ll speak with him.”

“Okay.” Vivian let it drop. For now. She switched on the radio and fiddled until finding a Top 40s station.

By the time they got home, jet lag hit Vivian full force. Tom sensed her energy dropped.

“Why don’t you go lie down and I’ll bring everything in, ma’am?”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you, darling.”

By the time Tom made his way to the bedroom, Vivian was fast asleep on the bed, fully dressed. He kneeled down and pulled her shoes off, placing them off to the side. He tucked her under the covers and made sure her head was sitting on the pillow. A quick kiss to the forehead and Tom took off to rehearse scenes for tomorrow and make a light dinner.

-

Vivian slept straight through the night and when she woke in the morning, Tom’s side of the bed cold. She wandered into the kitchen to find a note.

Ma’am,

I didn’t wish to disturb you. I know how difficult jet lag can be. You needed rest. I ate eggs, toast, and beans for breakfast. And coffee. The machine is ready to go for you. I texted you a morning photo and won’t forget to text you my lunch. I might be home a bit late tonight, long call sheet and what not. But I promise to text when I am on my way. Here is a list of some things you might want to do while I’m away. I love you.

Your sunshine,

Tom.

Vivian smiled as she found a list scribbled Tom’s handwriting of museums, spas, parks and restaurants along with his Uber account information.

“So thoughtful.” She grabbed her phone to find Tom flexing in his underwear in front of the mirror that morning, a big grin on his face. Vivian chuckled as she spied herself asleep in the background.

She typed back.

You are the most thoughtful man I have ever had the pleasure of spanking. Thank you, sunshine. You are definitely getting a reward tonight. And that photo is delicious. I might have to keep that one.

Vivian made a cup of coffee and a bowl of porridge with some fruit and set out to ready herself for the day.

-

Tom gulped as he spied Vivian’s email, grateful he was alone in his trailer waiting to be called to set and not in front of the crew or even worse, Benedict. He hoped for the ability to concentrate on the scenes and for an early ending of the day. Benedict had other ideas.

“Are you messing up on purpose?” Tom hissed as they reset once again.

“Sorry, Tom. I’m a bit distracted.”

“That makes two of us.” Tom muttered. He cleared his throat. “I have plans tonight I care not to miss.”

Benedict’s brows raised. “Vivian taking you off the leash?”

Tom jabbed his finger at his friend. “Stop with the jokes, Ben! They are neither appreciated nor wanted. I love her and the sooner you get used to it, the better things will be.” His nostrils flared.

Benedict opened his mouth, closed it and dropped his chin. “Sorry, Tom.”

“How would you feel if I spoke of Sophie in such a manner?” Tom countered, setting onto his mark.

“I would take your head clear off.” Ben reset too.

“Then consider yourself lucky. Now let’s get through this.”

Ben did better but still flubbed a few lines, much to Tom’s chagrin. It was unlike his friend, the consummate professional. Tom practically ran off the set when the last scene was done and beelined to wardrobe and makeup, hurrying the process along as much as possible. As his driver pulled away, he texted Vivian.

On my way, ma’am.

-

Vivian adjusted her bra and stockings as she waited by the front door for Thomas. His collar dangling from one finger. She couldn’t stop smiling as his key turned into the lock. Tom grinned as he saw Vivian standing there in a skimpy bra and panty set, along with garters and stockings. She finished the outfit with sky high heels.

“Welcome home, sunshine.” She purred, noticing his pants tenting already. “All your clothes off and into the basket.”

Tom’s hands were a flurry as he pulled his shirt, shoes, pants, and rest of everything off and folded it into the basket. He stood, shifting from foot to foot.

“You are so eager, sunshine.” She stepped in front of him. Her fingers tracing his abs and chest. “Are you ready for your reward?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shivered as Vivian’s lips ghosted across his neck.

“Good boy.” Her lips hovered over the shell of his ear. Vivian’s hand squeezed his cock. “Let’s put this on.” She held up the collar and fastened it around his neck and then fastened a leash to it. Tom couldn’t help but smirk.

“And to think Benedict thought you were taking me off the leash.”

Vivian tugged on it and led Tom through the house to the bedroom. “On your stomach, sunshine.” She ordered him, unhooking the leash. Tom laid down, shifting uncomfortably against the duvet.

He jumped as something warm and wet dripped onto his skin. Vivian’s hands smoothed it out along his skin. She started at his neck and worked out all the knots as she moved down to his shoulders and ribs. Tom moaned as Vivian’s thumbs pressed into the indents above his ass.

“Your hands are…” Tom sighed. “… magic, ma’am.”

She gave Tom’s ass cheek a playful swat before kneading into them. Tom was certain if he were to roll over, there would be a wet spot on the sheets. His legs shifted open as Vivian’s hands slid down to his thighs. He whimpered a bit when her hands left his body. She dripped more oil onto his legs.

“Gooodddd…” Tom moaned. “yes…”

He stiffened as her hands wandered up. “Do you trust me, sunshine?” He nodded. “Remember your word?”

“Sushi.” he mumbled into the pillow under his head.

“Good boy.” Her hands massaged along his inner thighs and up along his ass. He sucked in a sharp breath when her hands settled between his cheeks and slid down to rub between his ass and his cock. His hips rocked and Tom shifted to widen his legs more for ease of access.

“Do you like that, sunshine? Do you like my hands there, rubbing?”

Tom grunted. “Yes, ma’am.”

Her hand slid up and her thumb pressed gently against his rear entrance. Tom jumped as pleasure shot through him like electricity.

“Fuck!” He bit down on the pillow.

“Very interesting.” Vivian moved back down to Tom’s thighs and calves. She swatted his ass again. “Roll onto your back, sunshine.”

Tom’s head was already fuzzy and heavy, but he rolled onto his back with a moan. As expected, a good size wet spot onto the duvet. Vivian grabbed a small towel and covered it. Tom’s cock bobbed as he settled onto the pillow.

Vivian clicked her tongue as she dripped more oil onto Tom’s thighs, rubbing her thumbs hard into the muscle. “Is someone aroused by their massage, darling?”

Tom’s hands tucked behind his head, his collar jingled along the way. “Yes ma’am.”

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his legs with hers. “That definitely needs to be taken care of. How would you like me to take care of it?”

Tom’s brow furrowed. “I… don’t understand…”

Vivian leaned forward, her boobs pressed against Tom’s cock. “I can use my breasts, my hand,” She jerked him once sharply. “My mouth.” She kissed his treasure trail. “Anything besides my cunt, sunshine. Your reward, your pick.”

Tom’s thoughts spun inside his head. “Uh… I don’t know…” Vivian waited patiently, seeing Tom panicking.

“There is no wrong answer, sunshine.”

He took a deep breath. “Um… mouth?” he questioned.

“Is that a question?” She raised an eyebrow.

“Mouth, ma’am.” He croaked out.

Vivian lowered her head and kissed along his shaft. His hands flew to her head. She stopped and rose. “No hands, sunshine. I will stop each time you touch me.” Tom quickly replaced his hands behind his head.

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

She returned to placing kitten licks along his shaft. Vivian loved how Tom squirmed. She kissed and licked the tip, tasting the saltiness of his precum before taking him into her mouth. Vivian sucked hard and Tom bucked his hips. She released his cock with a pop.

“Do I need to restrain you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom commented without thinking.

His eyes widened at his response. Vivian pushed up and walked to the dresser and pulled out some scarves. She made quick work of tying them to the bed frame and then tying the scarves to Tom’s wrists and ankles.

“Too tight?” Tom tugged and shook his head. “Good.” Vivian crawled across Tom’s body to kneel next to him. “Where were we?”

She quickly took Tom back into her mouth and sucked in earnest. Tom gasped as he came in Vivian’s mouth. She swallowed and smiled. Vivian kissed up Tom’s torso before kissing his lips. She tasted of him, tasted of salt. Tom tugged against the scarves, but they held tight.

Vivian sat up and tugged Tom’s head up by the o-ring on the collar. “Eyes on me.” She adjusted the pillows under his head.

Tom’s eyes tracked her movements as she stood and he assumed would untie him. Instead, she walked to the end of the bed. His brow pinched together. “Aren’t you untying me?”

“Eventually.” Her hands slid up her legs.

“But my reward—”

“—is over when I say so.” Her hands reached around and unclasped her bra, allowing her breasts to softly fall as she dropped the bra to the ground. Vivian squeezed her tits, pinching the nipples. “So what will it be this time, hands or breasts?”

Tom’s cock twitched as Vivian continued to play with herself. “Ah… ahh.. breasts? Breasts.” He corrected himself.

Vivian turned around and grabbed the massage oil, dripping it along her chest. She smeared it along her skin, pressing her boobs together. Tom was already semi-hard watching her.

“God, sunshine… already?” She crawled back onto the bed. “You are full of surprises.” She crawled on top of him. “I’m untying your hands, you may only touch my breasts.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Vivian made quick work of the knots and slid back down Tom’s body, kneeling between his legs.

Tom settled his cock between her well-oiled tits and pressed them together tight. He thrusted between them and groaned. Tom continued to buck his hips and his release fast approaching.

“Look at me.” Vivian called out.

Tom gazed down to find her intense hazel eyes piercing into him. She opened her mouth and licked the tip of his cock, even sucking the tip slightly. The whole thing was too much for Tom and he came with a stutter, making a mess all over Vivian’s chest and neck before collapsing against the mattress.

Vivian grabbed a towel from the dresser and cleaned herself up a bit and then snagged the bottle of water and untied Tom’s legs, rubbing his ankles.

“Sunshine?” She sat next to him on the edge of the bed. Tom didn’t respond. Vivian cupped his cheek and shook him gently. “You need to sit up and drink, sunshine.”

Tom’s eyes opened, and he murmured. Vivian helped him to sitting. She held the water bottle out and scratched up and down his back. “Thanks.” He gulped down the water.

“You okay to stand up?”

Tom nodded. Vivian stood first and offered her hand. He was a little wobbly on his legs. She kissed his temple, smoothing the hair stuck to his skin.

“Take a shower and clean up while I heat up dinner.” Vivian undid his collar and placed it on the nightstand.

“Yes, ma’am.” He kissed her cheek and made his way slowly to the bathroom. Vivian chuckled, tugging on a robe, as Tom resembled a fresh born foal standing for the first time.

He emerged about twenty minutes later, his hair wet, wearing that short bathrobe Vivian bought him that first night he stayed over. Tom no longer tugged at the hem. Vivian set his plate down at the table, a simple dinner of chicken, potatoes, and veggies. Tom sat down and took a bite and moaned.

“That is delicious.” Tom tucked into the food as Vivian ate slowly.

“Chew, darling. Chew.” Vivian chided and Tom slowed down.

“Sorry. This is way better than takeout.” Tom mumbled as he swallowed his food and took smaller bites.

“You are not the only one in this relationship who can follow a recipe.”

They finished up the meal and Tom cleared the plates and Vivian opened up the fridge. She pulled out a Tupperware container.

“What’s that?” Tom glanced over his shoulder.

“Dessert.” She opened the lid to reveal chocolate cake.

“Did you bake that?” Tom raised an eyebrow.

“Perhaps.” Vivian smirked. “Or perhaps I picked it up at the store.”

Tom peered into the container and stuck his finger into the icing before offering it up. Vivian popped it into her mouth, licking his finger clean. Vivian collected icing and cake on two fingers and pressed them against Tom’s lips. He sucked against them, laving his tongue to devour every morsel. He moaned and leaned towards Vivian as she removed her fingers.

“More please.” Tom purred.

“I love when you beg.” Vivian scooped up more icing and Tom lunged towards her fingers, repeating the process. He whimpered when she removed her fingers a second time. “I think you’ve had enough fun tonight. You have work tomorrow.”

Tom’s eyes lit up, and he wrapped his arms around Vivian’s waist while she put the cake back into the fridge. “Speaking of work,” He pushed her hair out of the way to kiss her neck. “would you like to come to the set tomorrow?”

Vivian leaned against him. “I won’t be in the way?”

“Nonsense. You can see me shoot some scenes, have lunch with Benedict, meet some people, I can show you off…” Tom chuckled against her.

“I think I have just the outfit. I would love to.” She spun in place and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Any shirtless scenes tomorrow?”

“No?”

“Good.” She ripped his robe open and attacked his chest.

-

Vivian didn’t realize how god awful early Tom woke in morning until his alarm went off.

“Noooo…” she groaned, rolling to tuck into his body. Tom kissed her lips before rolling out of bed.

“I’m afraid the answer is yes. How about I shower first and then make some coffee?”

Vivian groaned something unintelligible. Tom took that as a ‘yes’ and set about getting ready for the day. He showered and set about making a quick breakfast and coffee.

“Darling?” He rubbed Vivian’s back. “It’s time to get up.”

“But I’m on holiday.”

Tom chuckled. “But I’m not. Now drink the coffee while I finish breakfast.”

Vivian sat up and sipped the coffee, sweet as she preferred. It was warm and comforting. Tom set down a plate of toast and eggs. Vivian ate and then headed to shower and dress for the day while Tom finished getting ready. His jaw dropped when she emerged from the bedroom.

“I am definitely showing you off today.” Tom moved to wrap his hand around her waist to kiss her. “Wearing that. Or perhaps I lock you in my trailer?”

“You like?” Vivian spun. Her dress was low cut in the front and a slit up her leg to the knee. It was flirty and showed off her curves. “Not too much?”

Tom kissed her again. “You’re always too much, ma’am. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Vivian tugged on her go to wedges and a sweater as Tom grabbed his bag and they headed out for the day.

Vivian leaned against Tom in the back of the car, still groggy from the early morning wake up. Tom tucked his arm around her, enjoying her warmth with a smile. Her eyes fluttered closed for a quick nap.

“Do I need to stop off somewhere for some coffee, Mr. Hiddleston?” his driver asked, seeing Vivian in the back.

“No, Matt. It’s fine. Just mind the potholes.”

Matt nodded. “Yes, sir.”

When they arrived, Tom nudged her awake. “Darling, we’re here.”

Vivian jolted awake. “What?! We are?!” Her eyes darted around, taking in the surroundings.

Tom smiled and jogged around the car to open her door. “I felt it best to let you rest. I’ll show you around before heading to makeup.”

Tom showed Vivian where his trailer, craft services, the set and other things were before introducing her to Madeline.

“Madeline, meet Vivian.” The young girl extended her hand.

“Pleasure. I’m here to help you out with anything you need.”

Tom kissed Vivian’s cheek. “I’m off to get ready, Maddy, make sure she is taken care of.” Tom winked at Maddie, who blushed in response. Vivian shifted her weight.

“Of course, Mr. Hidd—er, Tom.” Maddy giggled and Tom took off.

Maddy linked arms with Vivian. “You look like you need some coffee.”

Vivian gave a small smile, not sure if she was just insulted or not.

-

By lunchtime, Vivian was certain Maddy had insulted her. The young woman mooned over Tom at every turn, even in front of her. Tom, to his credit, seemed either oblivious or immune to her overtures. But that did little to sooth Vivian. After watching Tom for a bit, she left to return to his trailer and sulk.

Tom walked into the trailer carrying two plates of salad and chicken, still wearing the Loki wig.

“Darling, is everything alright? Madeline mentioned you took off.”

Vivian bit her tongue, not wanting to spoil Tom’s energy. “I wanted to rest a bit. I was in the way.” None of it a lie.

He set down the food and moved to kneel in front of Vivian, rubbing her calf. “I’m sorry, darling.” His eyes twinkled. “I know how to make you feel better.” His hand slid higher on your leg.

“You need to eat.” Vivian teased.

“Yes, I do.” Tom rucked her dress up and pushed her knees apart. Vivian sighed as he kissed her thigh. His lips trailed up to her core and his nose nuzzled against the fabric of her panties. Her fingers laced through the long hair of his wig and tugged his head over.

“No teasing.” she hissed.

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom hooked his finger through her panties and pulled them to the side.

He wasted no time to lick along her, earning a moan in return. Tom moved his other hand, but Vivian pushed it away.

“No hands, darling.” she breathed.

Tom sucked hard against her clit and she came undone with a soft scream, knowing others could be outside. Vivian pulled him up by his head.

“Thank you, love.” she hummed, content for the moment. “We are definitely growing out your hair. Easier to tug.”

Tom chuckled, burying against her chest. “Yes, ma’am. Beard too?”

“Beard too. Now let’s go eat.”

Tom hopped up and Vivian followed.

-

Vivian’s mood improved, but the lingering feelings of possessiveness clawed at the back of her brain. Tom would never act on such flirtations. She was confident in his devotion to her. But seeing younger women hanging over what was hers upset her. And she realized what was missing. And planned to remedy it as soon as they got home.

Tom gave a weary smile as they climbed into the car late that evening.

“Why don’t you lay down in my lap, darling?” Vivian offered, tucking her sweater into a makeshift pillow.

Tom complied and dozed off with Vivian, stroking his hair. He was asleep in five minutes. Vivian woke him as the car pulled up to the house.

“Darling, time to wake up.” she cooed in his ear. Tom nuzzled against her and blinked his eyes open.

“I fell asleep?”

“You were exhausted.” Vivian slowly eased him to sitting. “Go inside and lie down, I will bring a quick dinner to you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom exited the car and Vivian followed.

Tom headed to the bedroom and Vivian made him a quick sandwich, which he gobbled down.

“I’m sorry I am not up to doing much.” Tom shrugged his shoulders as Vivian took his plate.

“You have had a few big days.” She kissed him. “It’s fine.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“I’m going to sit up and watch some TV.”

“Can you…” Tom hesitated. “… stay here? Until I fall asleep, at least? I sleep better with you here.”

Vivian smiled. “Of course.”

She curled up next to him, Tom wrapping his arms around her. His chin settling into the crook of her neck. He dozed off any in about fifteen minutes, and Vivian carefully extracted herself to finish up her evening.

-

The next morning, Vivian followed Tom out to the kitchen, carrying something behind her.

“Madeline flirts with you.” she stated.

Tom glanced up from his plate. “She does? I guess so. I haven’t noticed.”

“It’s not just her. Susannah and Sarah do too. In fact, I don’t think there was a single female crew member I saw that was immune to your charms.”

Tom smiled. “I must attract them with the energy I give off as a man in love.” Tom attempted to smooth out the tension.

“I don’t like it.” Vivian blurted out. “You’re mine.”

Tom’s eyes widened. “Of course, I’m yours. You’re not doubting us, are you?”

“No.” Vivian pulled the box out from behind her back.

“That’s the ring, isn’t it?” Tom stood and closed his hand over the box. “I’m yours, ma’am.”

“You are mine, sunshine.” She opened the box.

Tom’s eyes welled up. “Yes, ma’am.” Vivian handed him the ring, and he slipped it on his left ring finger. “Perfect fit.”

“It looks good. On you. I expect you to wear it at all times outside of the house, unless working on set in costume.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tom kept gazing down at the ring and spinning it on his finger. He kissed Vivian. “I’ll finish getting ready.”

She grabbed him by the neck and kissed him roughly. “Now you can go.” she commented as they parted.

-

Benedict is insisting we need to come to his house for dinner tonight. Can we?

Vivian frowned at the message. She tapped out a message.

Ben wants Tom and I to come over tonight for dinner. What’s going on?

Sophie immediately responded.

No clue. But the more the merrier. I think the boys have an early finish today. 7 p.m.?

Deal.

Vivian texted Tom back.

We can. Sophie says 7 p.m. Meet you there.

Tom responded with a heart emoji and pocketed his phone.

“Vivian says yes. She’ll meet us over there at 7.”

Benedict frowned as he ate his lunch. “I’m glad she approved.”

[myblueeyedbuggers]

My Boys

Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5  Chapter 6  Chapter 7  Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10  Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13  Chapter 14

Pairings: Reader x Steve Rogers (best friend) Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count:1563

Warnings: Slow Start, Language.

Summary: After being abandoned by her parents in Brooklyn in 1929, y/n makes a living for herself by working for the Црни лабуд gang until she meets two boys in a back alley and her life slowing begins to change.

Side Note: Црни лабуд, according to google translate, means Black Lotus in Serbian.

So erm. Hi guys, first time sharing something on Tumblr, normally I’m the one reading all the fanfics but after reading so many talented people’s work I thought I’d try my hand at it :) hopefully it doesn’t completely suck, any writing tips and feedback is welcome and feel free to give some constructive criticism. I’m rambling, aren’t I? Okay I’ll shut up, Enjoy :)  

It’s the same routine day after day, wake up, shower, get dressed and go out to recruit for Damien. The streets of Brooklyn aren’t exactly safe for a girl of 13, but hey this is what happens when a pair of inconsiderate asses sell their only child to one of the most infamous and dangerous gang of criminals for the cheap thrill of getting high. One way or another a girls gotta make a living and the way I do it could land me in jail for the rest of my life, I mean I didn’t exactly picture myself blackmailing and manipulating the poor souls targeted by Црни лабуд, but that’s the shit that happens when you find yourself being shunned by the society that’s supposed to help the weak.

Anyways I was getting close to my target, just two more blocks, through the back alley and up the stairs to the apartment owned by Greg Sampson. That clever son of a gun managed to bypass the security systems of the cities bank and make off with $5,000 and get away with it, and as expected the Црни лабуд want him to be our new “financial adviser” considering our last one double crossed the boss and died cause if it. Turning to corner to enter the alley was a moment, as cheesy as it sounds, I won’t ever forget, a big group of boys were surrounding a lanky and frail lad who by the looks of it had seen better days. His blonde hair was all over the shop and his face looked like it had been ploughed into the front of a bus, blood was coming out his nose and both his top and bottom lip were split open but despite all of that he was laughing and taunting the group. 

“What’s the matter guys? Upset that you can’t keep me down?”, okay it’s official this kid has a death wish and I’m pretty sure that if I don’t do something I’m gonna be a witness to a murder, so of course my dumbass walks right into the middle of this “fight”. “So, what the hell is going off here? You boys decided to compensate for your small penises by acting like giant dicks or something?”, I could hear the lad behind me let out a laugh and a small smirk spread across my face as I looked at who I was up against, all the lads were red in the face and looked ready to put me into an early grave but I’d of liked to see them try.

 Thanks to the boss I knew basic self-defence and apparently could pack one “hell of a punch” when pissed off, the tallest of the bunch stepped towards me and picked me up by my collar at an attempt to scare me “Who the hell do ya think ya are little girl?! Don’t ya know when to stay outta other people business? Now I gotta mess up that pretty lil face of yours”. It was safe to say whatever he said and did was about as intimidating as a wet kitten and honestly quite funny, hence why I laughed before I punched the prick in his face, not my smartest move cause then I was dropped straight on to my ass. One of the tall pricks mates decided to take advantage of my situation, yelling and cursing at me as he prepared to kick me right in the face ,which wouldn’t of been too pleasant let’s be honest, but right when his foot was about to make contact the blonde lad behind me pulled himself in front of me and took the blow for me, he went flying across the floor and hit the back wall.  

Now I was pissed. As the group started to walk past me and advance on the blonde boy, I grabbed the ankle of the closest guy and pulled him down, climbing on top of him and really going in on his stupid face to try and get their attention back on me and off the guy struggling to stand.  It’s safe to say it worked, a sudden force to my ribs knocked me off the boy and back onto the floor, and then the fun began…for them at least I wasn’t having as much fun as the collection of shitheads, pain erupted from all over body, one jackass was constant kicking me in the head as the others hit whatever part of me they could reach. It felt like it went on for forever, but, in reality it was only for 30 seconds, before the boys stopped, I could hear the sounds of punches and the whimpers of pain as multiple sets of steps started to run away from me.

 I tried to sit up, but those bastards really did a number on my ribs and midsection, the pain making me cry out before crumpling to the floor, faint mummers and a moan of pain could be heard but I didn’t really care about that. Summoning my last bit of strength I pulled myself up, ignoring my bodies screams of protest, the wall becoming my new best friend as I started to limp towards my objective, I managed to get about 10 centimetres away from the alley before a arm wrapped around my waist and held me up.

“Just so you know that was fucking stupid move on your part, next time let me save the punk” ,okay hold the frigging phone who the hell is this and why haven’t I pushed his stupid ass to the floor? quickly I shoved him and “walked” away from him, royally pissed off.  “By the time you’d of got here to save him he’d of been 6 feet under by now, so go screw yourself” Perhaps I could have been nicer, but he did start it.

Miraculously I made it to the stairs and began to make my way up them, when once again a hand stopped me and I gotta be honest it’s really starting to piss me off, turning around to give this little bugger a piece of my mind, the words died in my throat as I came face to face with the blonde boy. Bruises littered his face and somehow his face was even bloodier then before, the mark from the kick was printed on his face and guilt immediately flooded my veins, “Ignore my friend, he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut sometimes, anyway I wanted to thank you for stepping in there not a lotta people would be so quick to rush in and have my back. My names Steve, Steve Rodgers and the grumpy old man over there is James Barnes” Steve stuck his hand out as a greeting and offered me what I can assume he meant as a friendly smile, though the split lips did ruin the image. Slowly a smile spread across my face and I shook his hand in greeting, “It was no problem, honestly, besides you had em on the ropes, my names y/n and it’s nice to meet you, though I can’t say the same about your friend over there.”. The boy behind Steve or Bucky scoffed at me and walked off in a huff, not that I cared, simply raising my eyebrows at Steve, mocking his friends attitude he let out a sigh and gave me an apologetic smile in response, “Well I better go after him or he’ll kick up a storm, I’ll see ya around y/n” and with that he smiled a final time and ran off after his friend. 

Returning to the task at hand, I let out a small smile at the thought of Steve before frowning, he was a good kid and didn’t need the trouble I brought, it’ll be best if I never see him again. I sighed before climbing up the rest of the stairs and prepared for the next few hours of hell I have to bring to this man, with those final thoughts I brought out my “tools” and got to work.

Okay honestly, I didn’t mean to make the first chapter so long, I wanted to provide the best in sight as to how this series will go, also the character development will be miles better in up-coming chapters. Thanks for reading :)

Rose xx

[fly-like-a-phoenix]

House of Lust (part 13)

Abbé de Coulmier x reader

Summary: Five years has passed since the events of Quills. The Abbé de Coulmier is released of prision by a misterious event. And he will know again those feelings he never thought will meet again: love... and lust.

Warnings: some violence, smut, some swearing.

Odelle crossed her arms against her chest, leaving the door opened. She smirked and stood there, watching how François quickly kneeled in the bed, his hands still in your thighs.

You both watched her with your mouths open, not believing she was in there. You thought to yourself it was your fault: you've been thinking about your sisters reaction to you and the Abbé making love. And, as an act of magic, there she was.

"My, my, my..." Said Odelle, clicking her tongue. "What do we have here? And you said you were shy and didn't want to know anything about sex, didn't you, my dear Y/N?"

You kept silence. Both of you did. But when Odelle approached to the bed, François stood up, covered you with the sheets and stayed between your sister and you, protecting you from her view and even something else, like a good slap in your face.

"Don't do anything to her, I beg you. It was me. I was forcing her." Lied he suddenly, confusing Odelle. "But it seems I'm very good with my fingers and tongue, because she was crying scared at first, but now it was from pleasure."

François smiled to your sister, and she did the same. It was all a fake, obviously, because seconds later she gave him a punch in his stomach, so hard he couldn't breath for a few moments.

You shouted and went to his side, not thinking you were topless in front of your sister. You have always taken care of anyone watching your naked body, even your own family. You never let anyone to dress you up, as royalty members did.

But now, seeing your dear priest falling to the ground because of the punch, you couldn't resist. Your hands went immediately to his shoulders. And you didn't even notice that you were now sitting in the floor, hugging him.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Odelle?" You said, feeling your voice breaking.

"It seems he didn't force you, as he said. It almost seems you asked him to do this, didn't you? What happened in the lagoon, sister? What made you change your ideas so quickly?"

Love.

It was love.

From both of you to the other.

"I won't answer anything to you." You said, one hand in François chest, feeling how the air finally entered his lungs, his rapid heartbeat going slowly to his usual rhythm.

"And if what you say it's true, Abbé - knowing it's not - why are you begging me to not do anything to her? Why are you protecting your victim? I've caught guys doing this, and they begged me to make the ladies or boys disappear. But you... If you changed too, with Josephine's and my help... Why are you still so damn soft with her?"

François looked at her, again with hate. He was pressing his stomach, but the little detail of his hand also pressing yours against his chest wasn't missed by Odelle. He cared about you, and you cared about him.

Your sister gasped and chuckled, realizing all at the moment, watching some tears of pain in the Abbé's eyes.

"Oh, I see. You're in love with her! That's why you're protecting her! Do you really prefer to be punished? Is she that worthy?" She mocked. "I told you you will need our permission to fuck her."

"She worths everything, because she doesn't belong here, mademoiselle. And you and Josephine are not any goddess or anything to give permissions about my feelings. There's only one God, and He and His Son teached and allowed love. Yes. I'm in love with Y/N. And only in this few days I know I will gladly give my life for hers, because she's pure, almost like an angel. And if you do anything to me, punishing me, raping me or something else, I'll love her even more. Because love has taken more power over me that lust. But at this time, lust is the way to show my love and what I really feel with Y/N. I feel we're connected. And I prefer to suffer for her, and talking in your language, I feel pleasure if I know she's safe, even If I'm being raped or beaten. Does that keep you in silence, Odelle? Was that the answer you wanted? Or are you so lacked of love that you don't understand a damn word of what I say and you're so pervert you're wishing to see us fucking?"

Odelle remained silent. She understood everything he said, but her mind couldn't realize now every mean of his words. He truly loved you. And she was jealous of you. Because it wasn't a secret that Odelle and Josephine were attracted to him too.

But love? He was right. She, at least, had never experienced to love and be loved. Carnal pleasure was above all. And feelings were left behind. And this young, beautiful man, seemed to love you.

So, if in those few days, a guy who was a perfect subject to corrupt, a virgin who took the vows and was in prison for a crime that the didn't committed, fell in love with the girl who was the first one who initially was attracted to him, things could go wild.

Love was powerful. She saw, a few times before, how people fell in love in the mansion. They connected through sex, and after the days in there, as guests, they decided to go together to Paris and other cities.

But you didn't connect through sex. You connected because of what you both had inside: that purity and goodness of you were the same in him. You were almost the same. And, as he said, you decided to join, using sex to be as closer as it was possible, united.

For a moment, Odelle didn't had an answer, as she always did. She couldn't even mock the priest, because he actually left her without words in her mouth. He was a good poet, she said. And now, she was right. He clarified his emotions better than anyone.

But she had to do something. Once a man or a woman, or this time, a couple, does anything against the rules, the House of Lust could be a total disaster, an utopian and anarchist one.

"You're amazing at talking, Abbé. You almost convince me of all. For now, sweetheart, yes. I want to see you finishing what you were about to do with my sister. I give you permission to do that. But then, you'll be punished. I'm the goddess here. And if you don't wanna make your mouth work on my sister's core, I will take it as an offense and I will bring any guy to do it, because she seems more than excited to feel a tongue in her."

François stood up, and felt a sudden energy inside him, urging to punch the lady in front of him. How dared she to talk about you that way, as if you were nothing but a sex toy?

He didn't do anything, because you stopped him. He was red of anger, but you calmed the beast inside him. He watched you with lovely eyes. It was a total shame that your sister was in there for an intimate, beautiful moment as that.

But your own gaze said it all. And he understood you. You prefered to give your sister what she wanted, because you were sure that she wouldn't punish François so hard if you both did what she wanted.

François was almost crying. He didn't want to make you feel like nothing, like a rich girl with so perverted that you didn't mind if people were looking at you while fucking in any way.

But you, not even minding your sister and without saying anything, took him by the cassock and brought him against you. Your sister watched you in silence, seeing how you both went back to bed, he seeing you with pain of you being obligated to do this.

It was so damn weird! But at the moment François started to kiss you again being in top of you, the knowledge of your sister staying in there, watching you, was gone.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered, almost crying. "This wasn't supposed to happen this way."

"It's fine. I want this, even with my sister here." You responded with a smile, Odelle not hearing you. "Kiss me and make me yours, Abbé. I never wanted something so bad in my life like this."

His kisses again went to your chest, but rapidly resumed their way to your centre. Again he lifted your dress, and giving a quick smile to Odelle, who had a perfid smile in here face, he closed his eyes.

He felt the scent of you, stronger while he approached his face to you. He glanced at your womanhood like if it was the Holy Grail, and suddenly you felt a kiss in your folds.

Your breathing got faster. And his kisses made vibrate every nerve or your body, until he gave you a lick, and you felt vertigo, sensations you never thought you would feel, but you were glad to be feeling thanks to him.

You rolled your hips, hoping for more friction. But François wanted to take every second. He wasn't sure about what would happen after this, so he took all of his time to melt you.

His tongue was going up and down, slowly. Every feeling of shame you felt disappeared when he put your legs upon his shoulders, smiled a little, and went to lick again your core.

His tongue opened your folds, wetter than before because of the excitement. It was a huge turn on to you when you felt the tip of his nose rubbing against it. And then, he took some air, a entered your clit in his mouth.

It was like all the world stopped around you. You gasped in surprise, but also in delight, one hand in his hair, the other in you mouth, still ashamed of your sister hearing your moans.

But when he started to suck it, his tongue playing with the little nub, two of his fingers rubbing your entrance, covered with your juices, you couldn't contain.

Your both hands went to his head, which was a support to you but also you push it deeper into your womanhood. A moment later, one finger slipped into you, your walls stretching around it.

He started to finger you while he was still sucking your clit. You couldn't almost breath, your legs trembling, your mouth opened and releasing pleasure moans with a strange voice that wasn't yours.

The cries of pleasure you felt were increasing as you felt heat in your stomach, like the feeling of urinating. You were at the edge when François entered another finger, and he started go thrust inside you faster than before while his tongue in your clit went faster.

He groaned against your core, feeling how hard he was, rubbing himself against the sheets, the cassock as an impediment for feel his manhood free. He was delighted for feeling how your walls stretched around his fingers, but also by hearing your moans increasing, your pleasure tears jumping from your eyes, how close you were.

Odelle was in silence, but she was very turned on for all this. It was so hot to see how delighted you were and how skilled was this priest. But seeing you, as morbid as it was, feeling so well, made her feel wet down there. She desired the Abbé doing the same to her, but also she desired to do things to him, plus a little punishment.

You were screaming, your moans were sure to be heard from the outside, and guests from other rooms must be wondering who was giving your such pleasure. You were not a guest: you were part of that perfidious family. And the man who was so skilled in the art of lust was a priest. All utterly normal.

He increased the pace faster than ever, and you felt your orgasm passing through you like a thunder, some liquid from your pussy filling François' mouth. He didn't stopped, tho. He licked your dripping folds once again, until it hurted to you, and your hands in his head made him stop.

He separated from you, seeing what a disaster you were, but in a good way. You enjoyed every second of his amazing work, and you were more than ready to feel him inside you.

He let your legs again in the bed, when Odelle, who was clapping since you finished as if that was a show, went out of the room, quickly returning with Claude and Louis, this giving you a surprised glance of seeing you like that.

"Take him to the dungeon." Your sister said. And François tried to give you a kiss, but he couldn't.

"I need to confess something." He said, but he couldn't. You touched his face, but you saw two shadows behind him.

The two men took him from the bed, and almost dragging him, they took him out of your room, your sister laughing and closing the door with key from the outside, letting you in shock.

Tagging: @darknessisafriend @five-miles-over @yukis-writing @thegirlwho @jokerflecker @missrockabilly99 @luperugorria99 @weirdflecksbutok @skaraboo @starksclown @sgtsavoytruffle @joaquinisart @beautifulyoungprospect @sophiefleck @the-queen-of-things @joaqz-phoenix @ajokerfangirl @bailaycantaconmingo @joaquinphoenixdaily @joaquinfeed @beatlebabe1996

[mooglesorts]

man. it's weird, because there's a lot of things about me that are Very Badger Primary, to the point where i would probably pick it with a strong bird model over anything else at this point... except that i hate dehumanization. i saw primaries described recently as 'things you wouldn't be you anymore if you went against,' and more than just about anything else that's it. even when i think people are monsters, i can't see them as not human; i'd be hard put to define exactly what i consider a 'monster,' but it's more about like. good faith than personhood, i suppose?

it's not necessarily a permanent status to be one--people can change--but my deeply held instinct is that once you have done something monstrous you will always be a person who has been a monster by your own choices, and that it's your duty to learn how to accept that while still living your life, and act accordingly from thereon out. you have to reconcile that you are a person with the fact that some doors are closed to you now, and it's up to you to decide what you do from there.

just. like. even when i hate someone and as far as i'm concerned they can go fuck themself, even in the multiple Heavily Badger social environments i've been in over the course of my life--church, progressive circles, the way the structure of the internet kind of just affects you in general--even on occasions where i've gotten swept away and given in to the pressure to dehumanize (or perform it) for a minute, there's always, always been a voice in the back of my head saying this is a person. this is a person. this is a person. this isn't right.

unintentional dehumanization sets off my '...should we really be doing this? we are getting into not good territory here, it's time to pull up and start questioning' alarms. explicit, intentional, purposeful dehumanization sets off the whole ass tornado sirens. if people on my side are doing it it's enough to throw me into a system-destabilizing crisis, because NO NO NO I WANT TO GET OFF THIS RIDE, I WANT NO PART OF THESE PEOPLE'S MORAL SYSTEM, I FEEL UNCLEAN. it's a good way to make sure i will never, ever, ever trust someone again.

things that are Really Really Badger, off the top of my head (after the cut because Long and trauma talk):

[[MORE]]

---

-i've always loved playing adoptable games, pet simulators, etc? any game with randomly generated characters that are Yours Now and a Community, in a deeply badgery way. including games where they can die (the satisfying part is making sure they don't). except that, no matter how much fun the gameplay is, if it gets to the point where they start feeling disposable, and the only way to really keep playing is to stop humanizing them, i lose interest. it's super fucking depressing. it feels like part of me dying inside a little. i don't like it at all.

-i've always been drawn to fandoms and roleplaying communities. i was fiercely loyal to, and proud of, my first rp community on dragoncave as a 13-year-old. when my abusive mom found out about it and completely isolated me for half a year, the promise of being able to make it back to them--just sneakier this time--kept me going; when i finally got back and the group had drifted apart in my absence, it.... was absolutely devastating. i never really recovered from it. even then, i spent years trying to get the group back together every now and then, until i finally gave up.

-i am always keenly, painfully aware of the life cycle of a community. every time i hear the sentiment 'you guys are all great and i love this group' my stomach drops, because i know it's only a matter of time before things go sour or the group dissolves. rp groups, skype chats/discord servers, fandoms, you name it, i am always bracing myself or staying away entirely to avoid the inevitable and it hurts. and it hurts to see people taking part in a community i don't dare be part of, which makes lurking in fandoms... really rough. frankly, it takes me a lot of courage every time i express my appreciation for the shc community because i've been burned so many times.

-on that note: i went through some really traumatic stuff at the end of 2020 that completely turned my life upside down, and i was doing bad until i stumbled across the shc community. the moment i started engaging, it was a huge boost to my mental health, and my ability to cope with circumstances under which i was about to break down spectacularly. and it has been ever since! contributing to The Group Project and seeing other folks being friendly with each other gives me the happy feelings.

-i used to go out of my way to build and run spaces, mainly fandom and rp spaces, and took a lot of pride in engineering them so that they Functioned Well. unfortunately it wore me the hell down over the years for Burnt Badger Reasons, and now i'm too jaded, bitter, and exhausted to give a shit about being a mod/community leader anymore because of it lmao

-among those burnt badger things i relate HARD to the Red Ledger narrative. hoo boy.

-i wish i could find it again, but there was an mlp comic i saw once which went into luna's observations of what each element of harmony Means. with the element of friendship, she says that twilight has a massive amount of love to give; right now it's all focused on celestia, but when she learns to expand it outward she'll have grown into her full potential as a person, and she'll change the world. that struck a chord with how i used to feel, hard, and it's really stuck with me ever since. (hello, unhealthy snake model)

-emphasis on 'used to feel,' lmao

-got super invested in a really toxic '''mental health''' community at a low point in my life; exploded HARD trying to help everyone i could; got into vicious, protracted fights with the shitty mods for years about the harmful way they ran their community until i finally managed to go 'fuck this it's not getting better' and leave.

-had to numb myself emotionally to the people around me for a long time once i really started learning about mental health and trauma stuff, because now i was seeing signs of their pain and baggage everywhere i looked, and i couldn't handle not being able to help.

-the imagery with which i think about my bird primary is overwhelmingly negative. whether it's my actual primary or a model, i uh. i feel like a healthy relationship to one's primary doesn't involve associating it with gore.

-i saw a conversation recently about how birds think of morality in terms of 'if you can, you should,' and how that's scary for badgers because their definition of 'can' involves destroying yourself for the sake of that 'should,' and... yeah, that's a mood. that's a BIG mood. thinking about bird primary stuff is hard--and i had to pick up my lion model to deal with it--because it's so easy for me to spiral into a self-shredding spiral of other people are counting on you to do the right thing, how dare you pull back for your own health and sanity. how dare you turn your back for even a minute. how dare you rest. the work is never done.

which is... a very exploded badger approach to exploded bird morality. whoops.

-fix-it and time travel fiction in which Everything Went Right This Time and It's Going to Be Okay are one of my very favorite self-indulgent fantasies. i will enjoy putting characters through the wringer in all kinds of creatively horrific ways which may or may not end on a downer note, certainly, i love that shit, but i will also 90% of the time have a backup version of the arc or dynamic that's softer and lighter and Actually Healthy This Time. it's the dichotomy there that really gets me tbh, a story where Everything Ends Happily by default will mmmaybe pull me in? but stories where there's the constant shadow of this could end horribly, it's supposed to end horribly, and we got a happy fucking ending anyway are just... that shit will make me cry, man.

it's also why i kind of really hate stable time loop stories where it initially looks like this is going to be The Good Timeline this time around, but OOPSIE everything went to shit anyway! we're right back where we started, just like it was meant to be all along! it's a tired cliche by this point and an unsatisfying one for me, and it makes me roll my eyes every time.

-this is relevant to the bird vs. badger because like... my gut instinct is to prioritize people over systems. when shit hits the fan, when someone's fallen into the machinery and is about to get hurt, i don't feel right about it if i just let it happen. i'll break the machinery if i have to to keep it away from them; i won't feel great about that, and it might cause problems, but fuck it, we'll figure it out later. throwing people into the gears of a system when i'm convinced it's the only option makes me feel Awful.

-related to the above, another trope that really speaks to me in fiction is when a character defies the rules of reality through sheer force of will. no, this is not happening, i don't give a shit what the limits are supposed to be. i refuse to let this be the way things are. (there's that lion model.)

-i've just kind of... always wanted to be an Everyone Badger. it makes me sad how much of that i've lost over the years as i've gotten more cynical, but it's what i wish i could be.

---

doubtless i'll think of more the moment i hit send, and there are just as many things about me that are Super Bird Primary, but like... mamma mia that's some spicy badger. the main thing stopping me is the Can't and Refuse to Dehumanize bit. i also... hm. i think i can function okay without a community? they just help a lot, and it sucks when i'm confronted with one i don't have a (stable) place in. any thoughts? is it possible for a bird system's foundation to run so deep that eventually it overrides the bird?

[multi-fandom-inserts]

My Salvation.

Peeta Mellark x Reader

Warnings; PTSD? Smut. Family/Friend Death.

I did change some facts in this just so it all could fit together, I love the Hunger Games so send more imagines if you want them!!

________________________________________________________________

The early morning sea was calm and peaceful, the gentle air carries the warm water plastering your face and dampening your hair, the golden sun peaked over the horizon, erupting a series of beautiful colours across the dim sky. Out on the sea is the only place you can breath easily, the song birds cleared your mind, the sea creatures beneath the surface swam freely helping to keep the demons at bay, for a while that is, the calm before the storm is something you'd grown accustom too and it's unsettling; and it isn't long until you hear the screams and then, the cannons.

The weighted switch blade in your palm rocks back-and-forth, glistening of the metal reflects in the sunlight as it moves. A few years ago the sight of a knife like this would of reminded you simply of your job on District 4's fishing boats, but now it carries an entirely new reality, the blood that coated your skin had absorbed deep and something you cannot wash off no matter how hard you scrubbed.

Engraved into the blade of the knife are the words, “Remember who the real enemy is.”

Those words echoed in your mind a lot, always in the silk voice of Finnick Odair. You remembered the first time those words were whispered to you. He was stood in front of you, hands grasping your shoulders as you both stood in the seal, bare room across from the glass tube, awaiting the orders for you to step inside. He then hugged you tightly, kissed your forehead – the small space between your eyebrows – and then, smiled sadly. But, the second time was different, he didn't whisper it to you, he said it loud, clear and full of fury whilst stood in the Tributes Centre... well, it was called the Victors Centre this time, the night before the Quarter Quell, he slipped the knife into your pocket and told you to hide it wherever you could in your clothing before facing the arena for a second time.

Dropping the knife to your feet, tears swelled in your eyes as flashbacks of Finnick pierced through your brain, he had raised you in many aspects, he cared for you, mentored you and protected you. The day he died – well was murdered – haunts your dreams and terrorizes you everyday.

After the fall of he Capitol government, the districts opened to everyone, allowing travel between the areas and allowing people to move between, find new jobs and create new lives. Families no longer lived in terror and everyone began to live again. The less fortunate districts such as Twelve began to rebuild and flourish, those that had hidden in the rubble of Thirteen were able to walk around in the sunlight again. Everyone just came alive again.

Many victors such as yourself remained in their home districts, change was something non of us really wanted to face, well, all expect one, Peeta Mellark was someone you'd never expected to meet in the hailstorm that erupted, but you're glad you did. The District 12 victory unknowingly became your anchor, you had spent a lot of time together in District 13, primarily due to the torture chambers in the Capitol and the infirmary in Thirteen were you'd both been held.

In the process of losing those you'd loved – Katniss being Peeta's person – you found each other.

Soppy stuff, right?

Not wishing to dwell on the past, you pushed yourself to your feet to pull the engine starter cord before heading for land. Once docked, you collected the knife and walked back to your house. The Mayor of the Districts insisted that previous Victors kept their houses in Victors Village.

Pushing the door to your home open, you threw the switch blade onto the kitchen counter and signed heavily, dragging your hand across your face in an attempt to pull the vicious and violent memories from your head. Peeta watched you from the doorway to the kitchen, he watched as your small hands grasped the kitchen surface so hard your knuckles became white, your shoulders were tense but your breathing was heavily, but even.

It wasn't long before he heard a sob echo from your body, throughout the years Peeta had watched you fight your demons, he'd watched you fight for your life, kill and murder innocent kids and even attack those in the Quarter Quill, but  you were different than the others he'd met, you attempted to keep your humanity, many victors just threw it away once they'd won. But you, it wasn't that you didn't feel guilty about what you did but you knew you were forced.

Kill or be killed.

Peeta was the only other than knew that, despite not killing in his Hunger Games, he knew the mentality. He honoured it, thought and pondered about it whilst watching you. Today was different, your episodes usually extended to a max of fifteen minutes in the house – yes he had timed you – but as he noticed the date on the calender, he knew.

It's Finnick's birthday.

“Hey.” Peeta spoke aloud, but you didn't jump.

You turn, wiping the tears from your eyes, “Hey, been standing there long?” you ask innocently, you knew he had been.

“Why don't we go see Annie?” Peeta asks, “I'm sure she'd love to see you.”

you shake your head, “I will, not now, I can't let her see me like this, It'll – ”

“Only make her worse, I know.” Peeta said, walking towards you and standing in front of you, “Why don't I help distract you?” Peeta smirked before grabbing you by the back of the legs and lifting you with ease onto the kitchen counter, parting your legs at the knees giving him enough space to slip between them, hands on your hips as his thumbs gently rubbed circles into your hipbones, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” he whispers, leaning in, gently brushing his nose against yours before kissing you feverishly.

The pair of you break apart for air, both breathing heavily as your hands rest on his shoulders, his still on your hips, “I mean, feel free to tell me more, but I'm sure you can just show me,” you tease, pulling him back in by the back of his neck, smashing your lips together, your mouth moulding against his as your fingers play with the bottom of Peeta's shirt and pulling it over his head.

Peeta laughed as he snatched the middle of your button up shirt and ripping it open before he pulled the sides of your jeans, “Lets get these off!” Peeta almost snarled in annoyance at the lack of resistance from your jeans, laughing, you lift your hips allowing him to pull them off before you play with the buttons of his trousers and push them down his legs.

Peeta moves from kissing your lips to trail them down the side of your face, along your jaw and to your neck where he nipped, sucked and kissed at the tender flesh leaving marks up and down the side of your neck. Licking your hand, you remove the last piece of fabric between you and his cock, taking it firmly in your hand causing Peeta to hiss as you twist your hand up and down his impressive length, feeling him harden beneath your touch made him moan.

“Fuck, Y/N.” he moans as you continue to play with him, rubbing your thumb over the top of his head causing him to shiver. His moans were music to your ears, his small shallow moans and heavily breathing. “Don't tease me.” he hisses, wrapping his arm round your middle and pulling your thong roughly down your legs.

As the cold air reaches your wet pussy made you shiver, Peeta swiped his fingers up your slit gathering your wetness, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you, moaning in pleasure, “So sweet baby.” he whispered before rubbing your wetness round his lips before kissing you roughly, tasting yourself on his lips was always something you'd found hot.

Peeta inserted two fingers into you causing a moan to echo through your body as he curled the digits inside you, grazing your G-sport as his thumb rubbed your clit, the pleasure made you lean back on the kitchen counter. “Please,” you begged grabbing his arms as your stomach tightens, “Fuck!” you moaned as you cummed, tightening round his fingers as you come undone.

Your partner gives you a minute before he rubbed the head of his cock against your pulsing clit, “You ready for me?” he teases, letting out a single laugh, you wrap your legs around his hips and dug your heels into his lower back, pushing until he was completely inside you, causing a moan to exit from both of you.

“Fffffffuck, you feel so good.” Peeta groaned, he gave you a minute to adjust to his size before pulling out and ramming back into you, not giving you a second after that to recover, the pair of your let out cries of pleasure as he continues to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot again and again.

You gasp loudly as Peeta's thumb finds your clit, rubbing harsh circles over the bundle of nerves, causing you to start begging again, “Peeta!” you moaned as your breath hitched whilst clamping your eyes shut as orgasm struck, tightening around Peeta, his sharp intake of air shows he wasn't far behind you as he rested his forehead on your shoulder before cumming, spilling his seed into you as you both ride out your orgasms.

Heavily breathing is the only thing that can be heard throughout the house for a few minutes, the cold air grasped your skin as goosebumps erupted over the pair of you, he kisses you gently before resting his forehead against yours, Peeta smiled warmly at you as he pulled rubbed his thumb across your cheek tenderly.

“Marry me?” he suddenly blurted.

You leaned back, knocking your head against the kitchen cabinet, “What?”

Opening the coffee pot before you, he pulled out a ring box and opened it, revealing a beautiful silver ring, jewels decorated the sides leading up to a small blue diamond, nothing big or flashy – it was perfect.

“Will you, Y/N Y/L/N, do me the honour of becoming the most perfect, headstrong, badass wife a man can ask for?” he asked, forehead still resting on yours.

A few minutes past before you found the words you needed. “As long as you, Peeta Mellark, will promise to be the hottest, smartest and most caring husband?” you ask, a small smile settled on your plump lips.

Peeta laughed at your response, “I already am those things... just not husband... yet.” he winked.

“Then yes,” you reply, watching as Peeta's eyes glowed and his smile grew wider, “I'll marry you.”

He clasped your face and kissed you passionately.

Peeta Mellark was your anchor, your partner and now, soon to be, your husband. And the only thing you could think of in that moment, a piece of peace you've always been waiting for, there is life after the Hunger Games.

Peeta Mellark was your salvation.

[blizzardfluffykpop]

Vermont

Summary: It’s been three whole years, thinking about you everyday, sometimes for hours, sometimes in passing. [Inspired by Your Graduation and Redo by Modern Baseball and Vermont by fail better, heal faster]

Oneshot

Word Count: 2,143

Jaehyun X Reader

Requested: Aite last one is for Mr Jeong! 13. “I’ll see you around?” “Yeah, I’d like that,…” “Merry Christmas, see you sometime.” + Jaehyun. Work your magic! Hope you had fun writing!

Prompt: 13. “I’ll see you around?” “Yeah, I’d like that,...” “Merry Christmas, see you sometime.”

It’s unbelievably hard to date an idol. I knew that when I fell for Jaehyun, I knew it when we started dating. Why would I believe dating him was going to be different? That him being an idol wouldn’t have any effect on our relationship? I understood he had a schedule and obligations, just like I did. That wasn’t the problem, where the problem lied was right in the company. Once SM caught word we were meeting up with each other,...

That’s when SM started controlling us. We were allowed to date, but there were restrictions placed on us both. If we stepped too far over the line, SM would kick Jaehyun out of NCT. We were free to keep contact with each other but when he was on a show our communications were off-limits. That didn’t bother either of us because he had to concentrate on work, which was fine. Just like we couldn’t go public which I knew from the get-go. It wasn’t hard following them was the easier part of it all. It’s when Dispatch would catch us, two years into our relationship. When everything would hit the fan on Christmas Day three years ago.

I came over to the dorm to spend Christmas with Jaehyun. We were enjoying ourselves, eating Christmas cookies and drinking. When we heard a knock on our door, in pops Taeyong, looking somber and not meeting either of our eyes. We asked him what was wrong and he showed us his phone in defeat. When we finally got a good glimpse of it, we knew we were fucked. It wouldn’t be long for us to get a call from SM. Having to end our time together on Christmas early to head over to the SM entertainment building.

As much as I loved Jaehyun, I knew the decision I had to make before we even got out of the dormitory. It was going to hurt, but that pain would be nothing compared to him losing a career over me. When we got inside we were told to meet Lee Soo-man in his office. We looked at each other and decided to take our time. Avoiding the inevitable by going up the stairs together. We reached the fifth floor and he turned around and looked me in the eyes. “No matter what happens, I want you to know I love you with my whole heart.” I nodded and kissed his nose, “I love you so much, Jaehyun, nothing can change that.” He nodded back and grabbed my hand, holding it tightly, like I was going to float away and I would never get to see him again.

It was sad to know that was close to being right. We reach the door and I gulp as I reach my hand out and knock on the door. From inside he says, “Come in,” trying to calm down I squeeze his hand and he smiles down at me. I smile back up at him, my smile soon turning into a frown as Jaehyun opens the door and I set my eyes on Lee Soomin.

He gestures for us to sit down and with heavy hearts we do. “I know you’ve already seen Dispatch’s news. This can go one of three ways, one you risk it all for each other. If the fans have a big backlash you leave the company, Jaehyun.” I gulp, I know I can’t let that happen. “Two you deny the allegations and you,” he stares at me, “start dating someone from your workplace publicly.” I shake my head knowing I could never do that Jaehyun, my heart could never take that. “Three, I’ll pay you to live in another country and you don’t come back. We’ll say you guys dated in the past.” I hold the tears back not wanting to look weak in front of his CEO. Jaehyun looks over me and squeezes my hand, I already know which choice he wants to take. He would risk it all if it meant we could be together. But, I know his career means everything to him. I can’t risk him losing that for me, I don’t care how much it hurts me. I know it will hurt Jaehyun, but his dream is to be an idol and who am I to get in the way of that? “I choose option Number 3.” Jaehyun shakes his head, “No--” I shake my head at him and kiss his hand. “Being an idol is your dream and I can’t let you lose that over me.”

I walk out of the office as Jaehyun runs after me. I’m down three flights of stairs before he catches my shoulder. Tears stream down our faces, knowing the consequences of my actions. “I’m sorry it has to be this way, Jaehyun.” He nods, “I know, nothing can change your mind when you’re set on something,...” I look down at my shoes and say, “I’ll see you around?” I nod and sniffle, trying to wipe most of my tears away, “Yeah, I’d like that.” He grabs my face and we look at each other in the eyes, and for the last time, we share a kiss. Our hearts burn as we realize this is an untimely end. We walk down the stairs and I say, “Merry Christmas, see you sometime.” He nods, “Merry Christmas, I’ll see you then.”

The next day, I boarded my flight to Vermont. I didn’t know anyone, and I wanted the world to suck me in or destroy me in the collision. Neither of which happened, my heart was in pieces and I had no way of contacting Jaehyun. None of my friends from Korea knew what happened to me. I couldn’t even tell any of them, my phone was confiscated and I was lucky that I had my parents' phone numbers memorized. I went to a pay booth that night, calling them up and telling them what went down. They wished to hold me and comfort me, but their words did little to comfort me. The only person that could comfort me was no longer allowed to have contact with me. My heart shattered in more ways than one, at least Jaehyun could still pursue his career.

I wished to be anywhere but in fucking Vermont. But I was stuck here, with only enough to pay for rent and food. It took three months before I found a good enough job to at least have a furnished apartment. I cursed out Lee Soomin’s name to the point where my throat was sore. Some nights, I couldn’t find it in myself to fall asleep because Jaehyun wasn’t there. I began to hate Christmas, it was an ugly reminder of how I could never be with Jaehyun. Snow in Vermont is a sight to see when you’re not cursing at it. Because if it wasn’t for Christmas Day I’d still be in Jaehyun’s arms. And maybe, just maybe, we would be happy together and never have to worry about Dispatch catching us. Maybe, we should have been more careful, but when you’re in love that’s not how it works. Maybe, if the entertainment world wasn’t so fucked up we would still be together. But it’s been three years since then, and I have had yet to see Jaehyun.

I’d rather be home than stay in Vermont where I’m cut off from everyone except my parents. But I’ve been excommunicated from my country, my home, my life. So I learned to suck it up. I worked so hard to get over it, my favorite genre was Kpop, and now I can no longer stand it. I know if I’m not lucky, I would catch Jaehyun in the crowd. My heart still longs for him but my mind has moved on. I’m as happy as I was when I was with Jaehyun. I feel comfortable by myself, and maybe Vermont isn’t so bad.

My father calls me up on Tuesday and tells me, “It’s taken a while but we have a big surprise for you.” My mind is reeling, did they get me a pair of Heelys? That’s been on my Christmas list since I was little! “Really? Your presents are on the way and should be there by Friday morning.” He laughs, “Okay honey, but don’t hate me for your surprise. It took a lot of haggling to get it.” That raises my concerns, did he have to fight a poor mother over a pair of Heelys? “Okay,... I promise whatever it is I won’t hate you. I love you guys” I hear him hum, “We love you too, have a Merry Christmas if I forget to call you.” I nod forgetting that he can’t see that, “Alright you guys have a Merry Christmas, see you soon.” I know I won’t be able to see them soon but the idea feels comforting.

--

Friday, Christmas Day, I hear a knock on my door and throw on my coat. Expecting a UPS delivery person to be standing outside my door with a present from my parents. When I open my door, my heart soars as my stomach sinks. I pull him in, it’s not the UPS person. It’s Jaehyun, “How did you get here? Why are you here! Oh no, you can get in so much trouble. How did you--” He smiles, “It’s nice to see you too.” I lock my doors and look out the window to make sure no one else saw him enter. “I don’t know if you saw the news lately,...” I shake my head, “What news?” I lead him over to my kitchen table and sit across from him.

“SM lifted all the dating bans and basically told fans to shove it. Idols deserve to live their lives,...” I scoff, “Wow, that would have been nice three years ago.” My heart thumps at the implications of his statement but I keep it cool. “I never got over you,... I tried everything, (Y/n), nothing seemed to work. Do you know how often I was over at your parent's house? Whenever you would call I would beg to talk to you. But I knew if I did, you would cut off communications with them. Not wanting to harm my career,... As much as it is noble of you, I desperately missed you.” The tears start streaming down our faces just like that fateful Christmas Day.

My heart lurches out of my chest, wanting to hold Jaehyun in my arms. “I missed you too, Jaehyun. There are still sometimes when I wake up and cry because I realize you’re not there next to me.” He wipes his tears with his coat, “I told you Merry Christmas, see you then,... I meant it.” I nod, “Is this what they meant when they said they haggled?” He rubs the back of his neck, a habit he had whenever he got nervous. “The day your parents found out, they fought with Soomin for three hours. I wish I was kidding,...” I laugh, “From then on they had been digging at his character, making him break. They would call me in ever so often because they wanted me to speak about my experience. How it ripped me from the inside out to lose you because of my career. That I couldn’t keep it while I dated you.” I wipe a few tears from my eyes, “You know if it wasn’t for my resolve to make sure you could keep your career. I would have been in your arms just to piss off Soomin and Dispatch.” He nods, “My parents almost convinced me to come back home on many different occasions.” He gets up from where he’s sitting and wraps his arms around the back of the chair and me. I pull him around and we cry into each other’s arms.

“I still love you, Jaehyun. I wish we could have a complete redo.” He shakes his head, “I don’t want to redo, I want to continue.” I laugh, “Well, what’s stopping us?” He looks up and grins at me, “Nothing now… So what do you say, (L/n) (Y/n), would you like to be mine again?” I lean down and kiss his forehead, “I never stopped being yours.” He smiles, “I love you,...” “I love you too, Jeong Jaehyun.”

I started loving Christmas again, he helped me move back home. After we spent the rest of the day enjoying Vermont. A place I still wasn’t accustomed to, a place I didn’t enjoy until Jaehyun was back with me again. They say the heart grows fonder when you are away for longer. That if you love someone, let them go. If they come back they're yours; if they don't they never were. I knew in my heart someday we would be in each other's arms again.

[chloelucia13]

Chapter 2: Made of Storms

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader

Prompt: Their relationship seemed to be perfect, but after Spencer began acting odd, that perfect relationship seemed to fall apart. And when you find out why, you wish you never did. Based off the song “Forever and Always” by Taylor Swift

Warnings: this is just angst guys, there might be like a pinch of fluff, some language, it’s just sad I’m sorry (memories are in italics)

Word Count: 2487

A/N: Here’s the second chapter! I hope you all enjoy! As always, requests and taglists are open!

Read chapter one here!

Tags: @sojournmichael​

Why did that Tuesday happen?

You used to ask yourself that question because you couldn’t understand how you had gotten so lucky to find a man like him.

Now that question rings in your mind every time he ignores you, every time you’re left alone in your apartment.

That seemed to be every night lately, you sat on your couch wearing one of his college sweatshirts and tear stains lingering on your cheeks.

But tonight was one of the first nights you had spent out of that suffocating apartment, instead being dragged along with the girls to some karaoke bar.

However, your activities didn’t really seem to change. You still sat, wallowing in your own pity with a beer in your hand that you barely touched. You weren’t alone, but you still felt so alone.

“I think he hates me,” you blurted out, a crease forming between your brows.

The girls halted their conversation, all of them turning to you. “Who? Spencer?” JJ questioned, reaching out to rest her hand atop yours.

You nodded. “I... I can’t remember the last time he told me he loved me. Hell, I can’t remember the last time we even spoke to each other.”

“Y/N, I don’t think it’s possible for him to hate you,” Alex interrupted. “Maybe he’s just been busy lately.”

Again you nodded, rubbing a palm against your eyelid. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.” You let out a sigh. “I-I’m really sorry for that. I didn’t mean to make you all upset.”

“Hey, hey, you don’t need to apologize. We’re friends, your problems are our problems too.”

A weak smile pressed onto your lips. “Thanks. I should probably get going though. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow. I have some paperwork I need to get done.”

“Are you sure?” Penelope urged. “Can’t you stay for another hour?”

You let out a chuckle, squeezing her shoulder as you stood up. “I’m sure, Pen. I’m really sorry. You all have a good night. Make sure to sing a Bowie song for me.”

As you began to step away, JJ caught your hand in hers. “Y/N, you know you can talk to us about anything right?”

You nodded, squeezing her hand slightly. “Of course, Jay.”

“Alright. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

God, why did those words feel so foreign on your tongue?

Darkness used to be so sweet then. Then, you knew that even if you couldn’t see him, he was still there.

“Why are you still awake?” His breath fanned against the back of your neck, his lips so close you could almost feel them on your skin. 

You turned in his arms so you were facing him, your nose brushing barely against his. “I just can’t sleep, I guess,” you hummed, letting your eyes search his. “Why are you still awake, mister?”

He scoffed playfully, nudging your nose with his before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, anything. What’s up?”

He licked his lips, eyes boring into yours. “I love you.”

You smiled, cupping his cheek. “I love you too.”

Tears were swimming in your eyes when you parked in the parking lot, making the trek to your apartment with shallow breaths.

In a rush of jingling keys and shaking hands, you managed to make it into your apartment and close the door behind you before the tears began to flow down your cheeks. Sobs wracked your body as you sunk down onto the couch, burying your face in your hands.

“Y/N?”

You sniffled, quickly wiping the tears and snot off your face before looking up to see Spencer standing in the doorway of your room- no, the room you two shared. 

He stepped over to you, hesitantly holding a hand out. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were home,” you rushed out, bowing your head and avoiding his eyes.

“I...I just needed to grab a few things. I need to run back to the office.”

You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet. “Of course you do,” you whispered, shrugging off your coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

“What’s that supposed to mean? You know I’ve been busy lately.”

“Of course. Sorry.” Your tongue darted out between your lips and you risked a glance up at him. 

“What’s going on?”

You scoffed, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what I did, Spence. We... We used to be so close. We used to fall asleep in the same bed. We used to talk to each other. Now I just feel like we’re strangers, and I feel so alone. I... I don’t even feel welcome here anymore.”

“Y/N-”

“And when was the last time you called me a pet name? You used to never say my name. You’d call me love, darling, baby. I miss that. I miss you.” You sucked in a deep breath, stepping close to him and resting your hand on his forearm. “What happened?”

He shook his head, his brow furrowing in anguish as he searched your eyes. “Nothing happened. I’ve just been busy. And tired. And my headaches...”

“I thought you were getting help for them?”

“I am, it’s just...” He sighed, taking your hand in his. “Listen, I’ll call off early tomorrow and we’ll have dinner like we used to. I promise.”

You gulped, catching your lip between your teeth as you searched his eyes. “Pinky promise?”

He grinned, interlocking his pinky finger with yours before pressing a rushed kiss to your forehead. “Pinky promise. I really do have to get going. I’ll be back later tonight, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He hurried past you, gathering his satchel before stepping over to the front door. 

“Spence?” you voiced, stopping him halfway out the door. “I love you.”

He nodded. “You too.” 

And he left you all alone.

***

Dinner was getting cold.

Your boss had let you get off early so you could rush home and prepare a homemade meal, something you hadn’t done in so long.

You had even gotten dressed up, wearing a dark green velvet dress that you wore for your six month anniversary with Spencer. Your hair and makeup were done, and you were unable to ignore the nagging fact that you hadn’t gotten done up like this in months.

At six you had everything prepared, the table set with two plates of pasta that JJ managed to wrestle the recipe out of Rossi for you.

You checked your phone at 6:09, 6:24, 6:47, 7:13, and 7:21. He still had yet to show up, and your phone was void of any calls or messages from him.

The first bottle of red wine had already been drained, and you had just uncorked the second bottle when you heard your phone chime. You rushed over to it, your heart racing with excitement like it had on your first few dates you had with Spencer.

How’s everything going? Should I bring over some brownies? Maybe some condoms? -Penelope

You sighed, blinking away the tears as you typed back a response.

He didn’t show. I thought he was still at the office. Those brownies would be greatly appreciated, though :( -Y/N

He was one of the first to leave today. I’m really sorry, babe :( If he doesn’t show in thirty minutes I’m coming over with those brownies and some chick flicks -Penelope

Thanks, Pen. Love you -Y/N

You shut your phone off and leaned back against your counter, letting out a sigh of defeat. 

Everything used to be so perfect. Even during the darkest of times, you still had each other. You still loved each other.

You still love him, you don’t think you could ever stop. It’s just that you felt so numb now. You felt nothing. It was miserable.

Even when he was home, it wasn’t for long, or he ignored you altogether. your bedroom was silent as you two would lay there together, but still worlds apart.

The pain was heavy like rainfall, drenching you down to your bones. It was storming when he was there, so close yet so far, and it poured when he was gone, leaving you alone with your thoughts and doubts. 

Either way, you laid there shivering, hoping for someone to come and take you to safety, to get you dry and keep you warm.

At 7:53, the doorknob to your front door turned before the door swung open, revealing a very flustered Spencer. “I’m so sorry, I-I had a late night at the office and I had to finish a lot of paperwork-”he rushed out.

“Penelope told me that you left before everyone else,” you sighed, sipping wine from the bottle. “Why are you lying to me?”

“Y/N, I’m not lying. I just took all my paperwork to the library.”

You scoffed, pushing yourself to your feet and finally taking your hair out of the loose bun that you spent 15 minutes on. “I don’t know what I did to push you away. Did... Did I say something?”

“You didn’t do anything, Y/N. I told you that.” He stepped over to you, taking both of your hands in his. 

“Then what did you do?” You looked him in the eye, letting him see the pure agony that marred your features. 

And you watched the fear fill his eyes when you spoke those three words.

“Who is she?”

That fear left as soon as it came, and he just looked... gone. He looked completely unfamiliar, someone you never truly knew.

His lips parted, and you already felt the pain tear through your gut before he could even get the words out of his mouth.

“Her name is Maeve.”

And in that moment, the way her name moved along his tongue, you knew that you no longer meant anything to him.

“Of course,” you whispered, taking a step away from him. “Of course her name is fucking Maeve. A pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Y/N, don’t be mad at her-” “Mad at her? Mad at her?” You laughed incredulously, your eyebrows rising from the shock of it all. “Oh, don’t you dare turn this on her. I bet she doesn’t even know I exist! Does she Spencer? Does she know that you already have a girlfriend?”

He shook his head, pursing his lips. “Listen, I’m really sorry-”

“And now you’re gonna apologize? God, this is fucking bullshit!” You turned on your heel, pacing for a moment before stopping and turning back to face him. “You didn’t mean any of it, did you? You didn’t mean anything you said to me. None of the ‘I love you’s, none of the ‘I’ll never leave you’s, none of the ‘forever and always’s?”

“Y/N-”

“You said that to me! You said that you would always love me! You said that we’d be together for and always! You said that to me!” You sniffled, scrubbing away the tears on your cheeks. “You didn’t mean it.”

“Y/N, listen to me!” he shouted, making you freeze in place. “I love you. I still love you. I just...”

“You just love her more than me?” Your voice was weak now, all the fight leaving your body. “She’s just better than me in every way possible? Is that it?”

Tears fell from his own eyes, silver streaks dampening his cheeks as he stared helplessly at you. A wounded puppy. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did...” You sniffled, wrapping your arms around your middle to hold yourself. “Did you forget everything that we had? Did you forget all the times I held you when you cried, all the times I consoled you after you had nightmares? Did you forget... Did you forget that we were supposed to be together until the end of time? Until the earth crashes into the fucking sun and we all burn away? Or did I burn away from you already? Am I just ash to you? The remnants of something you used to love?”

A sob fell from his lips and it took everything in you to take your words back, to rush over to him and hold him and tell him that everything was okay. 

“You’re an amazing woman, the best woman anyone could ever have. I just... I don’t deserve you. I’m sorry.” He stepped towards you, and you took a step back to counter him. Another step forward, and another step backward.

“Back up, Spencer,” you whispered, begging. “Please, just get away from me.”

“Y/N-” “Get the fuck away from me! Get out!”

He did as you said, stepping back with a look of pure anguish settled on his face. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I said get out.”

He nodded, not wanting to push you any further. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He left, his head hung, and he closed the door behind him.

Sweet golden sunshine flooded in through the gaps of the curtains, and a small huff fell from your lips as it flitted across your face.

“Spence,” you whispered, nudging the sleeping form next to you. “Spence, I think we slept in.”

“Five more minutes,” he grumbled, pulling his arm out from under his head and wrapping it around your waist, bringing you back in his embrace. 

“Spence, it’s been more than five minutes. Hotch is gonna have an aneurism if you’re late again, and my boss has probably already called like five times.” You reluctantly pushed his arm off of you so you could roll out of bed, scrambling to find an outfit to wear for the day. 

He groaned, mumbling a few words of dissatisfaction before eventually getting up and getting ready himself. 

“Love?” he voiced from the other side of the room, fastening his tie.

“Yeah?” you hummed in response, turning to face him. “What’s up?”

“I...” He huffed, shaking his head. “Nothing. Sorry.”

“Spencer.” You walked over to him, resting your hands on his shoulders as you searched his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I just... I’m scared I’m gonna lose you.”

A small frown letting on your lips, and you settled one hand on his cheek. “What makes you think that?”

He shrugged. “My job is dangerous. I-I don’t know if one day the unsub will just find you and kill you, or torture you, or do anything to you, just to get to me.” He pursed his lips, trying to blink away the tears. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“As long as I’m with you, nothing’s gonna happen to me. I trust you, and I know that you can save me from whatever happens. You’re not gonna get rid of me that easy.” You pressed a kiss to his lips before patting his cheek. “I’m gonna be here forever and always, baby.”

“Forever and always.”

[thestraggletag]

Three Appointments and a Wedding

AN: Hi, @magicalgiven it is I, your Secret Santa! If I’m not mistaken we are both Argentinians in which case commiserate with me over the fucking hot weather we’ve been having. Because it fucking sucks. It was a pleasure to be your Santa, and I’m sorry this fic didn’t get smutty. I tried to add as much spice at the end as I could. It was challenging but fun because the accidental engagement prompt has been done a lot in the fandom so it was nice to try and put my spin on things. I hope you like it!

Prompt: Accidental engagement and consequences.

Summary: Mr Gold would do anything to help his only son plan his wedding, even if it is getting mistaked for the groom over and over as his crush gets mistaken for the bride. Over and over.

Rating: PG-13

He reminded himself that Bae had been clear about his distaste for a big wedding, and Emma as well. As far as they both were concerned they were better off with a simple civil ceremony and a honeymoon in Florida. But Emma’s parents insisted that their only child, their little princess, marry in style, so something grander was decided upon. He had to admit he hadn’t put up much of a fight. He did not have a lot in common with the Nolans- no matter how much David insisted on treating him like best mates whenever they met- but he did agree with them on the wedding. Bae was his only son and he wished to make a fuss about his wedding as well.

So he couldn’t really say no when Bae called to ask him to please take his place at a catering appointment in Portland. He had been summoned to a surprised meeting with a client that was a rather big to-do at his job. He did something related to web design that he couldn’t for the life of him understand, but it allowed him to work from home most of the time and stay in Storybrooke, so he was glad to be of assistance if he needed it.

He arrived at the catering business with a bit of time to spare, introducing himself and letting the person checking the appointment know he was waiting for someone. Not Miss Swan, because apparently she also had urgent business that could not be delayed- she did work in law enforcement, so there was a small chance she wasn’t lying to get out of “boring wedding stuff” as she kept calling it right in front of her mother and likely to annoy her. He had been told she would send Miss Lucas as a replacement, since she knew her way around a menu. He did not look forward to it, though perhaps he could amuse himself with trying to figure out how to raise the subject of the diner’s rent being due next week over talk of canapes. 

“Mr Gold, you got here before me!”

He turned around, a part of him recognising instantly that charming Australian lilt. He looked slightly down to find Miss Belle French, the town’s librarian as of three years. She was dressed, as always, rather charmingly, and looked less out of place in the city than in their small town. 

“I hope you haven’t been waiting long. The original plan was for Ruby to fill in for Emma, but Granny’s arthritis started acting up so she had to stay and help at the diner. Oh, please don’t tell Granny I told you that or she’ll never forgive me.”

He recalled she was an old friend of Miss Swan’s, from before she came back to Storybrooke, back when she was living in New York as a bit of a rebellion against her parents, doing bounty hunting work of all things. They had been roommates while Miss French went to NYU for her master’s in Library Science and worked at an antique bookstore. He knew only because he knew the bookstore and thought it smart to hold onto that piece of information. Book restoration and re-binding wasn’t his specialty, so it was nice to know of someone he could consult with if the need ever arose.

“Your secret’s safe with me, Miss French. I will even abstain of using the information against Granny the next time she tries to overcharge me for coffee. I hope you understand what a sacrifice that is.”

She laughed and he tried to pretend he didn’t feel overly smug about it, turning instead to open the door for her.

“Oh, Mr Gold, I see your fianceé is here! Lovely to meet the future Mrs Gold.”

He fumbled, his brain too caught up in what had just been said to register the small step on his way. He righted himself just as Miss French stammered a surprised denial.

“Oh, right, I apologise for assuming you would change your name after marriage, Miss Swan. Please, follow me.”

The man, a strongly-accented Frenchman, if his ears did not deceive him, swept past them and deeper into the shop, forcing them both to follow. The back was a rather nice dining area, small but with lots of windows to let in natural light. It was right next to the kitchen, but it still felt private and quiet. They were ushered into a table already prepared for them and served a sample of entrées along with a card detailing the ingredients of each one.

“Well, I suppose it’s an obvious mistake to make, and it would be unkind to correct him, he’d be mortified. I hope you don’t mind playing the would-be groom for a day, Mr Gold. At least we get some nice food out of it.”

“It’ll make a nice change from Granny’s overpriced lasagna.”

She slapped him gently on the arm, trying to conceal her smile, and he was surprised at how nice the gesture felt. Not many people touched him, and less with that sort of uncomplicated ease. He was glad that Miss French felt comfortable around him.

“So, what type of food does Miss Swan enjoy?”

“You should really begin calling her Emma, you know. And me Belle, none of that Miss French nonsense. This is not some nineteenth century pretend engagement, you know. I hope we can consider ourselves a modern pretend couple.” Miss French- Belle- smiled at him over the rim of her water glass before taking a sip. “As for Emma, she likes bar food. If it was up to her we’d serve peanuts and fries for entrées and burgers as the main course. I understand her parents talked her out of it, so perhaps nothing very fancy, but tasteful at the same time.”

He had given up on the day that morning, thinking it would be spent trying to make awkward conversation with a confrontational Miss Lucas, glaring daggers at him from across a rather small table because he dared charge rent for the property her grandmother rented from him. Instead he found himself discussing food and wine with someone he was infinitely more fond of and could not even muster enough grumpiness later in the evening to snark at Bae when he called later at night to thank him for subbing for him.

“It’ll be the last time, pops, I swear.”

.

The week after the catering appointment Bae called him in a panic to beg him to go for him to the florist appointment, also in Portland. He swallowed a few choice words learned in his youth in Glasgow, closed his shop and drove to the address Bae texted him. He was somewhat less surprised than before to find Miss French there, sitting on a bench outside the shop and reading a book. Something niggled at the back of his head but when he greeted her and they got to explain their presence he realised it made a bit more sense. Miss Swan’s job was a bit emergency-heavy and Miss French was the daughter of a florist, so it made sense to send her as a replacement.

She knew her stuff, as he could tell almost as soon as they set foot into the shop, to the delight of the old, red-haired florist that handled their appointment. The librarian engaged her in a rather interesting discussion on the meaning of flowers and the importance of harmonious scents, something he had never considered before. They spent a rather lovely hour touring the greenhouse and browsing through the catalogues, with Miss French- “Honestly, Arran, it’s Belle, you agreed!”- making a game out of it, picking something and having him guess whether it was a choice for Miss Swan’s wedding or a reflection of personal taste. He learned from it that Belle liked blue as much as her outfits had already implied and that she loved hydrangeas, thought them elegant but soft.

“Too soft for Emma. She likes bold colours and is not fond of traditional flowers, so I was thinking perhaps something with bougainvilleas? They have such lovely deep pink colour, almost red. What do you think?”

It was a bit intoxicating, the smell of the flowers, the heat of the shop and Belle French talking about flowers with a passion that stirred something in him that had nothing to do with centerpieces or boutonnieres. It wasn’t until they were out of it, inhaling the crisp evening Portland air, that he realised the florist had mistaken them for the engaged couple as well, and neither of them had made any effort to correct her. Well, that would’ve been rude, he reasoned. No need to put the old woman in the spot.

.

The morning of the cake-tasting appointment he had woken up with the knowledge that he was likely to get a “surprise” call from Bae begging him to “fill in” for him at the cake shop, and he could not even bring himself to feel angry about it. The wedding was, after all, a rather rushed affair, seeing as to how it was not what either the bride or groom had planned for, so allowances had to be made for the couple. That or they both were trying to punish their parents for pushing on them a grander event than the one they had wanted in the first place.

On his way out of town he passed by the library, insisting he would drive Miss French who was, surprisingly, filling in for Miss Swan again. She didn’t seem to mind yet another disruption into her schedule.

“I love Storybrooke, but I don’t mind admitting that it’s nice to go out to a big city every now and then.”

The bakery that would make the cake- one of the few that would accommodate the short notice of the order placement- was located in Bangor, which seemed to merge big-city vibes with small-town charm. The bakery itself was lovely, with a white and beige storefront and a myriad of colourful treats on display. It smelled strongly of vanilla and chocolate inside, and there was a dreamy, romantic sort of quality to the decoration. They were ushered into a warm, cosy room where they spent the next hour and a half tasting different cakes, one better than the next.

“Emma is a bit chocolate obsessed, so I’m leaning towards the chocolate champagne one. It was delicious.”

He tried not to replay in his mind the way she had moaned at the first taste of that one, eyes closing in absolute bliss.

“I still can’t believe that little urchin had me fill in for him again, so I’m not even considering his tastes. My vote is for the strawberry shortcake.”

Belle frowned, idly liking some frosting from her fork. His left hand tightened around the napkin on his lap.

“Isn’t Bae allergic to strawberries?”

“Exactly.”

The librarian laughed, which he was rather surprised by. Very few shared his rather dark sense of humour, most found the content and his delivery of it rather off-putting. He tried not to preen at the idea. 

“Might want to hold on in killing him until after the wedding. After all, we have invested quite a few hours into the preparation already. Feels more like our wedding, in a way.”

He choked on a rather lovely piece of red velvet cheesecake, fumbling for his glass of water to try and wash it down. He realised the danger he was in, all of a sudden, perhaps too late. His crush had been safe when he had not had much of a chance to interact with the librarian and get to know her. But spending entire days with her had changed things, giving his feelings depth that he did not entirely appreciate. His instinct of self-preservation was urging him to do something. Say something mean or cutting, or close himself off. Perhaps invent some business emergency and leave, letting Belle figure out on her own how to get back to town. If she was cross with him, if she hated him, if she decided to keep his distance, he would be safe.

But, surprisingly, he found that he was rather tired of feeling safe, and of pushing people away.

.

“You know, we didn’t do half-bad in the end, all things considered.”

He turned around, tearing his eyes away from his son and his new wife trying to waltz. He was sure someone was filming it, anyway, and he’d get to tease Bae about it later. Belle looked absolutely stunning in a Halston dress, an architectural number in navy blue with a champagne-coloured lining that peeped from the folds of the skirts and a bit of a train in the back, the hem landing above the knee at the front and below it at the back. It was a far cry from what most women were wearing, in particular the friends of the mother of the bride, but it was exactly what he had expected from her: bold, flirty, and the slightest bit of out place in a small town, without really seeming to realise. Her lips were a lovely deep, dark red and smiling wide. At him, of all people.

“Yes. The flowers do look splendid, Miss French. You have quite an eye for it.”

She hooked her arm through his, looking admonishingly up at him.

“It’s Belle. Unless you’ve decided I cannot call you Arran anymore.”

If he were stronger, he would politely insist on calling her Miss French, thus gently reestablishing their more formal dynamic. It would be safer, certainly. But he found himself unable to muster the energy for it. It was a happy day, and he was ecstatic as the father of the groom should be. Seemed like the occasion to do what he wanted and not necessarily what he thought was best. Indulge a bit.

“Belle, then. I rather like how you pronounce my name, seems a shame to make you stop.”

Her eyes widened, and so did her smile. He tried to remember how many glasses of champagne he had drunk, but could not recall. He had indulged there too, but that was only because he had been sitting next to David Nolan for dinner and he had kept trying to talk to him about sports. He had made the mistake of trying to discuss the UEFA Super Cup, but that had only led to ten minutes of David Nolan referring to football as soccer and displaying no understanding of the rules of the game.

“So, how’s the proud father? Was it all you hoped it would be?”

He looked around. The venue was lovely, a manor outside Storybrooke that was used exclusively for events like weddings and such, with extensive gardens and lovely, broad balconies. The Nolans had secured the place, seemed they knew the owner and had been able to pull some strings. It was decorated a bit like an enchanted forest, in shades of silver, gold and bold touches of bright pink and dark blue.

“Well, Bae remembered his lines and didn’t step on Miss Swan’s train at any point so the wedding has exceeded my wildest expectations.”

He glanced again towards his son, dancing something a bit more lively with Emma and looking infinitely more at ease doing so. They truly suited each other, and he was glad of that. Glad that Bae would know, hopefully, nothing but love in his family he meant to build for himself.

“It’s a lovely song. Would you care to dance?”

A tricky question, since the answer was both a resounding no and a desperate yes, but he merely pointed towards his cane as a way out. It seemed he was not the only one emboldened by drink, however, if Belle’s flashing eyes and red cheeks were anything to go by.

“Oh, come on, just some gentle swaying. We could go outside, if you don’t wish others to see. It’s a bit stuffy in here anyway.”

There was no way for him to deny her, nor did he wish to anymore. He let her lead him out, into one of the terrace-like balconies attached to the ballroom, and wrapped her arms around his neck, prompting his own to wrap around her waist. They soon fell into a slow, easy rhythm, lazy and yet strangely exhilarating. He felt loose and tightly-wound at the same time, and could not decide whether he liked the feeling or not.

“It really is a lovely wedding, by the way.”

“Yes, I think we did rather well, all things considered. Certainly more than what Bae deserved, taking into account how little he worked for it.”

She tugged on his hair, he assumed as a way to chastise him. It had rather the opposite result, sending a jolt of fizzy pleasure up and down his spine.

“You rather enjoyed it, admit it. And I did too. In a way it’s sad that the wedding has happened and our outings are at an end.”

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, teeth worrying her lower lip the slightest bit. He got the feeling that there was something he was not seeing or sensing, some signal he was not quite deciphering. But it was getting rather difficult to think, with the champagne in his veins, and the feel of Belle in his arms and the way she smelt like orange blossom. 

“You look lovely, by the way.” He realised he hadn’t told her, and it seemed like a major oversight. “Stunning, really. Gorgeous. Too good to be wasting your time out on the balcony with me.”

What the fuck was wrong with him? When had he lost complete control of his bleeding mouth?

“Don’t say that. I like spending time with you. A lot.” She bit her lip again and he wondered if his blood pressure could take it. “Actually, I was hoping we could spend more time together, if you wished it.”

There was no mistaking the flirty turn of her lips, or the coyness dancing in her eyes, even to an expert in self-denial such as him. He tried to form words to reply to her, something along the lines of “Yes, please” or “Is it tomorrow night too soon?” but his vocal cords were suddenly useless, and in a sudden panic that she would interpret his stupid silence for a rejection of her advances he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers. He felt her stiffen in his arms for a second, saw her eyes widen in surprise, but the next moment she was pressing back against him, tipping her head back to better capture his mouth with her own. She took absolute control with a quiet, fierce determination that he found incredibly erotic. He was happy to reciprocate, to tighten his arm around her waist and open his mouth to her, his left hand tightening around the handle of his cane with something that felt like petulant frustration at not being able to simply drop the damned thing hold her properly, perhaps delve a hand into her hair, feel if it was as soft as it always looked. 

She seemed to read his mind, for she maneuvered them clumsily towards the rather tall balustrade. He eagerly leaned against it before dropping his cane in the nick of time to catch the librarian’s leg, which sought to wrap itself around his waist. Her obvious, undisguised want was disarming, making him forget himself in a way he had never allowed himself to-

“Papa, what the fuck?”

“Belle!”

Both him and Belle startled, with her regretfully taking a few steps away from him, leaving him to notice the chill in the air. When he glanced at the entrance of the balcony he saw his son and Miss Swan, looking radiant in her Vera Wang dress and also, bizarrely, quite smug.

“Hey, Bae, didn’t see you there.”

His accent barely made the words intelligible, but there was no helping that. He always lost control of his brogue when he was nervous.

“Clearly!” Bae sounded shrill, more child than man. Reminded him of the infamous temper-tantrums the lad had thrown once upon a time. “How could you? At my own wedding?!”

Fuck, he was right. He had been caught fucking making-out and almost doing God-knew-what just a few bloody steps away from his son’s wedding reception. What was the matter with him?

“I mean, why couldn’t you wait? I had almost won the bet!”

What?

“You only had to last until after the wedding! I was so close, pops! And you were doing so well!”

“Yes, yes, it’s all very sad. Now remember, Bae, you promised at least two dances with Regina’s sister. At least she’s unlikely to hit on you at your own wedding, so there’s that.”

Emma smiled up at her new husband, kissed his cheek, turned him around and directed him back towards the ballroom with a not-so-gentle smack in the ass. She smiled, gave Belle a thumbs up and an “atta girl” and walked out of the balcony, closing the French doors behind her.

“What the fuck was that?”