#Ronan (oc)

[eebeewrites]

DILF Mafia! Elf BF x Nanny! Chubby Reader

Synopsis: After getting unexpectedly fired from your previous nanny job, you take the first job offer you can find; even if it seems a bit shady. It's really not too bad; you're living in the most gorgeous house you've ever seen, your paycheck is more than you could ever imagine, their father is kind, and even if their mother is out of the picture, the kids are sweet. However, you quickly learn what kind of occupation pays for such a nice house, and your handsome salary.

Tags: 18+, modern fantasy, mafia au, sub reader, dom love interest, fem chubby reader in mind, parenting au, eventual violence and drug references, eventual smut, smut with plot. Potential slow burn depending on if my adhd cooperates

WC: 4.1k

Continuing with rewriting stories for some of my older OCs, with all of them being somehow connected to each other! Here's the rewrite for my lovable mafia dad Ronan; you can read his original story here. The other connecting stories in this universe can be found here!

You didn’t watch the news much. 

Why would you? Your job kept you plenty busy. Being a live-in nanny was a job that kept you on your toes, days lasting ten, sometimes twenty hours. Yet you were paid well, and you liked the family you lived with well enough. When you were called into your boss’s office, you thought little of it. You were on a first name basis with both parents, and they seemed happy to have you. Yet when you walked into the room, sitting down in the fine upholstered chair, there was a sense of tension lingering in the air. 

“Is…is everything alright?” You asked, breaking the silence. 

The father sighed, mumbling your name under his breath before pausing to composure his thoughts. “We…were incredibly grateful, for your years of service to our family.”

Immediately you knew. You were being fired. 

“Please, know you haven’t done anything wrong, and we’ll give you a glowing recommendation to whatever you pursue next, but…our financial situation has…changed, to say the least.” 

You listened carefully as he vaguely explained what caused such a change, but all you could think about was what to do next. This wasn’t just a job, it was where you lived. It was a good job too; would you find another employer who would compensate you like this? Who’d be so kind and understanding? You weren’t sure. 

It was hard, telling the children you worked with how circumstances had changed. Yet you couldn’t wallow for long; perhaps two weeks' notice was generous in some fields, but it still didn’t feel like nearly enough time. You spent every waking minute of your free time scouring job offers, yet none of them came close to matching what you were making now.

All but one. It looked sketchy; a Craigslist ad advertising $10,000 a month for a live-in nanny; fifty miles outside of the city. It looked like a scam, but you were just desperate enough to give it a shot. Like any other job, you submitted your resume and hoped for a response. 

You got one quickly, within just a few hours. The message was short and sweet; the top of the message read just “INTERVIEW” alongside a date, time, and address; tomorrow at six PM. The time wasn’t too out of the ordinary, given half the reason you were hired was due to parents needing to work. 

You drove over to the address; despite the eerily concise response and quiet drive, the house was impressive; right on the water, not another house for miles, but built with the same grandiose architecture as the houses of other families you had worked with. 

Despite the beauty of the house, you couldn’t help but be a bit on edge. You looked around, noticing quite a few cameras. Not the most abnormal thing you had ever seen, most people with this kind of wealth invested heavily in security. Still, the feeling of being watched was more intense than other interviews. 

You walked up to the door, and before you could even knock, the door opened. Standing before you was a well-dressed man; Elvish, fit, blonde hair and pale skin, and oddly familiar. You could’ve sworn you had seen him before; perhaps in the newspaper or on television? It’d make sense, given the fancy house. “Hey. The nanny, I assume?” 

“That’s right.”

“Great. Come on in.” 

You followed him inside, looking around at the tall ceiling of the foyer. The walls were adorned with all sorts of paintings in various styles, some much older than the other. You had seen both old and new money, but it was apparent they were the first. 

He led you over to the living room, “just uh, sit there for a moment. He’s still in a meeting. My brother, I mean.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” The more you looked at the man, the more certain you became. You had seen him somewhere before. You couldn’t pinpoint where, but you were sure of it. He looked around the room, tapping his foot impatiently. “You do this a lot?” He asked. Clearly, he hadn’t read your resume. 

“For about a decade, yes.” 

“Nice. He should be done any minute.”

“That’s fine. I um,” you were given no other information outside of the interview. Most families at least told you their occupation. “May I ask what he does? Your brother?”

“Ah, intrigued I see?” He asked with a smile. “We own several businesses across the city. He runs the back-end, I run the front-end. After all, someone’s gotta be a pretty face,” he laughed. “No offense to him. Well, maybe just a little,” he joked. “You know the big casino downtown?” 

You nodded. 

“Yeah, that’s us.”

You looked around the room. There weren’t many signs of children from what you had seen, the house so far seemingly clean and well-organized; something you didn’t see often when nannying. “How many children does he have?”

“Two. Twins. Spoiled little bastards,” he laughed again, but you weren’t sure if he was joking. You heard a door open, and out came a man. Just like his brother, he was well dressed; long blonde hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, pointed ears clear to see. “Ah, so nice of you to join us.”

“Sorry, things got a little heated,” he said with an awkward laugh. “I’ll take it from here, Finn.” 

“Of course,” his brother gave both of you a nod and left. 

“So, let’s get started,” he held out a hand for you to shake. “I’m Ronan, the father.” 

He seemed nice enough. Once his brother left, the interview felt fairly…normal. He asked you about your job history, your education, if you’d be comfortable living with them, all sorts of standard interview questions. By all metrics, the interview seemed to be going well. 

He walked you around the house, giving you a tour of the property. The first floor of the house was immaculate, but the second floor made it obvious he had children. 

“They’re twins,” he said. “Five years old, one boy, one girl.” He seemed to light up when he spoke of them. His brother wasn’t entirely wrong about them being spoiled. Each had their own sizable bedroom, along with a playroom that envied any you had ever seen; it even had a sink and refrigerator in it. All sorts of shelves lined the wall with materials for arts and crafts, toys, dress-up costumes, anything a kid could want. “Adriel’s really into dinosaurs and animals and stuff, and Amara’s really good at ballet. Well, I don’t know for sure, but she says she is, so I take her word for it,” he laughed. 

Throughout all of your conversations, never once did he mention the mother of these children. You were having a good time, he seemed sweet, but you couldn’t help but be curious. Was she not in the picture? Perhaps she worked? You weren’t sure. 

“So…where are they now?” You asked, now standing at the end of the deck facing out onto the water. You didn’t expect to meet the children on the first interview, but you were curious why they seemingly weren’t around. 

“Oh, I had their cousin take them out for a few hours. He’s uh, he’s in college, but you know, family business,” he shrugged. “A lot of people come around here, it’s uh, kind of our base of operations, in a way,” he said with a laugh. “But that’s about it. So…” 

“So?”

“You’ve got the job, if you’d like it.”

A huge weight was lifted off your shoulders. You didn’t question the speed of it all; your new job was secured. “I’ll take it.”

——

Leaving your last family was emotional. You thought you were prepared, yet you couldn’t help but shed a few tears seeing those kids for the last time. 

Arriving on your first day with your new family, you were much more nervous than you had been for other first days. What were you thinking, taking a job without even meeting the kids first? 

You had elected not to unpack your things right away, not wanting to overwhelm the twins you had heard so much about. You knocked on the door, and this time, your employer had answered. 

He seemed happy to see you, again well-dressed in a white shirt, slacks, vest, and tie. This time though, his sleeves were rolled up, revealing several tattoos. You couldn’t get a long enough look to discern what they all were, but you could tell there were quite a lot of them. 

“Hey, come on in. I uh, gave them a bit of a rundown, and they’re super excited to meet you.” You followed him inside, walking towards the stairs, seeing two shadows quickly disappear as you walked up. 

You followed Ronan to their playroom, both of them sitting on one of the couches. Both of the children seemed to struggle to sit still, although in different ways. The boy seemed nervous, perhaps even a little scared as he stared down at the floor and away from you. The girl on the other hand was brimming with excitement, wide eyes tracking your movements as you sat down across from them. 

He introduced you to them, “she’s the person who’s going to help take care of you both while I’m working.” 

The little girl wasted no time getting up and grabbing what appeared to be a bunch of construction paper stapled together. She sat down in between you and her father, leaving the other little boy alone. “I made this. It’s a book about me and my brother.” 

“Oh, that’s very-” you instinctively reached to grab it, thinking she was giving it to you, but she pulled away, opening up the ‘book’.

“I’m gonna read it to you.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

Her brother moved closer, sitting on the floor next to the couch as she started to read. The pages were filled with crude drawings of her, her brother, and other family members.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Ronan smiled, leaving the room as if to give you some time to bond with both of the children. 

“‘My name is Amara. I’m five. I love ballet and chocolate and I can do a handstand,’” she spoke slowly as she read her own words, scribbled down in crayon. It was quite impressive for a five year old. She turned to face you, “do you wanna see me do a handstand?” 

The last thing you needed on your first day was something going wrong. “Maybe a little bit later. Why don’t you keep reading me your book?”

She nodded, turning the page. “‘My brother is named Adriel’. That’s Adriel,” she said as she pointed at her brother. 

“Hi,” he said quietly. 

“‘Adriel is shy but likes dinosaurs and rocks. He’s a picky eater and he wears glasses.’ Sometimes he doesn’t like to talk. But that’s okay.” 

You gave him a warm smile, and he seemed to relax a little bit. 

She turned the page yet again, this time showing a drawing of the house, several stick figures in front of it, one of whom was crossed out with a large red X. “That’s me, and daddy, and Adriel. That’s mommy, but she’s not here anymore, so that’s why she’s crossed out.” She pointed to a few other figures, one in a suit and the other in a skirt. “That’s Uncle Finn, he’s kinda scary sometimes, but he brings us cool stuff from the city. That’s Callon, he’s our cousin. He wears really cool clothes and has a boyfriend, but I’m not supposed to tell you that.” 

The little boy finally spoke up. “His boyfriend looks scary, but he’s nice. Him and his other friend played video games with me, and they brought us pizza.”

She pointed to two other people in the background, “Cedric is our uncle, I think. He’s kinda quiet when he’s here, but he’s really smart. And then that’s Serena, she’s mean sometimes, but she helps us if we get sick.”

It was quite a group to remember. “And do all of these people live here at the house?” 

“Only sometimes. They all usually come over once a week for daddy’s big meeting, but sometimes they come  stay if it’s an emergency.” You weren’t sure what kind of emergency she was referring to, but you didn’t ask. “Sometimes there’s other people that daddy says we’re related to, but I don’t know all their names. I think we’re related to a lot of people. But that’s it!” She exclaimed proudly as she shut the book. 

You spent the next few hours playing and getting to know them. Amara seemed as if she could talk for hours and hours, whereas Adriel still seemed a little hesitant at times. Still, you felt as if things were going well, the rest of your first night uneventful. You had worked for quite a few rich families, but never one so wealthy. You ran into even more faces as the day went on, ones Amara’s book hadn’t covered; a personal chef, a housekeeper, a gardener, and other household staff came and went as the day went on, yet you hadn’t heard any names you recognized from Amara’s story. It made your job easy; you didn’t need to cook or clean, you could devote all your attention to taking care of them. 

You got them cleaned up after dinner, reading them both a story before bed. They scampered off to their rooms, and as far as you knew, your work was done. There were still a few things left in your car, so you decided to finish unpacking. You walked out through the garage, only to find nearly every spot was now occupied, along with a few cars out front. When did all these people show up? And where were they? 

You brought the rest of your things inside, and the house was suspiciously quiet. There were more people here than before, you were sure of it. You walked back down to the first floor, unable to hear any additional voices as you walked between each room. You decided to look around, but when you heard footsteps from below, you panicked. It had to be the door that led to the basement; you moved behind one of the walls dividing the hallway, the kitchen, and the living room. You weren’t sure why you were so on edge; you had no reason to be. Yet something felt…off. Why was he having a meeting this late at night? How’d they get inside undetected? You hid behind the wall; so long as whoever was approaching stayed in the kitchen, you should be able to stay undetected. 

“I’m so fucking tired of this shit,” said a man’s voice. He sounded younger, perhaps in his twenties, yet his tone was one of exhaustion. “I don’t get it. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable!”

“Not really,” it was a woman’s voice this time, sounding a bit older; perhaps thirties or forties? Although, this was a family of elves; it was highly likely your guesses were completely off. “Although, it’s not…uncommon, in our field.”

“In our field,” he repeated in a mocking tone. “It’s weird. Besides, just because I was alright with it once, did they think I’d be willing to do that kind of shit forever?”

“Alice did.”

“Well, Alice is a cunt, so there’s that.”

Silence lingered between the two of them, a brief moment of tension before they started to laugh, the smell of cigarette smoke wafting towards you. 

“You gotta be careful kid,” she paused, presumably taking a drag from a cigarette. “Ronan hears you saying that shit, he’s gonna beat your ass.”

They were talking about your boss. Who was this ‘Alice’ person? 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I just…if I did it…I mean fuck, what would I tell him? ‘Sorry I cheated on you, my dad needs blackmail material on a CEO, hope that’s okay.’ Yeah, no.”

The statement left you in shock; did running a business like this really mean accruing that many enemies? Who was making this boy blackmail a CEO? Why? Ronan didn’t mention having any other children. Perhaps this was his brother’s son? You tried to remember his name, but you had learned so many names today it was lost on you, still in shock over the boy’s declaration. 

“Well…” the woman hesitated. “You wouldn’t need to tell him.”  

“Yeah, but I’m not fucking evil. By the way,” he continued. “You missed a spot, last job. He got all freaked out, I had to tell him I fell through a window.”

“Did he believe you?”

“Of course not, he’s not an idiot.”  

She sighed, “much to your dismay, you’re not the only one I have to patch up. Your paper cuts are not as important as others gunshot wounds. Be more careful.” 

You thought back to Amara’s words; “And then that’s Serena, she’s mean sometimes, but she helps us if we get sick.” Was it common for rich families like this one to have a healer on-call? Was she being facetious? She had to be. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I need to get back to school, I have class tomorrow,” the boy sighed, both of them starting to walk off. Once you couldn’t hear their footsteps, you walked back to your room. You weren’t necessarily afraid, but it was clear something wasn’t right. 

You tried not to think about it. You had taken the job, the kids were sweet, and you really shouldn’t have been listening in on them anyway. 

Still; gunshot wounds?

You had almost finished getting ready for bed when you heard a light knock on the door, the clock reading 10:47. 

You answered it, and there was your boss Ronan. “Hey, I know it’s super late, but-”

“That’s okay,” you tried to stifle a yawn but failed. “What’s up?”

“I don’t wanna take too much of your time, but I just wanted to ask if everything went alright? They seem to really like you, I just didn't want you to feel like I was hovering over you, and then I had my meeting, but I just wanted to check-in.”

You nodded, “things went well, I think. I’m glad you think so.” You had so many questions you wanted to ask, but you kept things brief. “Do your meetings usually go this late?”

“Yeah, it uh…it can be tricky getting everyone’s schedules to align, so you know. Is what it is. Well, thank you for your hard work, let me know if you need anything.” 

You quickly learned he was a busy man. A kind father, doing his best to spend time with the two kids while running a collection of successful businesses. As days passed, you started to notice the way others within the house looked at you.

It was a look of disgust, or fear, but hesitancy; as if there was something they all knew that you just didn’t. You tried not to pay it any mind, but couldn’t help but return to the conversation you overheard the first night. 

The boy seemed to have grown attached to you rather quickly, Adriel always taking the chance to hold your hand or lay on your shoulder. It made sense, given how he’d lost his own mother. This wouldn’t be the first time you’d be ‘filling in’, so to speak. Amara seemed to like you, but she wasn’t nearly as clingy, opting instead to show you things, like her drawings or dances she had made up. 

“You’re good at being nice,” the little boy mumbled as Amara twirled around the room, a movie playing quietly as Adriel was about to drift off to sleep. 

“Oh, well thank you. I try my best.” 

“There’s a lot of people being mean lately. But you’re nice.” Before you could question what he said, he was asleep. You looked back over to Amara, blissfully unaware of the world around her. Yet something about the boy’s words felt almost cryptic. You were curious, but…you didn’t want to lose this job. So, you decided ignorance was bliss.

You were woken up in the middle of the night by a knock on your door, a tiny voice calling out your name. Technically, these were your off hours, you shouldn’t need to do anything; but you weren’t going to just turn the kid away. You opened the door, and there was Amara, standing there in her pink pajamas. 

“Hi.”

You yawned, rubbing your eyes, “hi, what’s going on?” 

“Um…can I sit with you for a bit? I…I can’t sleep.” 

She was so sweet, you couldn’t say no. Between her and her brother, she seemed to be much more independent, being the shoulder for him to cry on often. Yet she had gone through the very same things he had with their mother gone; you were more than happy to sit with her. “Sure.”

She walked in your room, heading for the window. She looked outside, your room facing the dock down below, the moonlight reflecting on the water. Her eyes widened, letting out a gasp. “Boat! The boat’s out!” 

You were still half asleep, you hadn’t even registered the quiet hum of a boat engine coming from outside. You looked out, and sure enough, there was a boat. Despite the lights being out, the people down at the dock didn’t bother to quiet their voices. One of them was almost definitely Ronan. Him and his brother were standing out at the dock, calling out to whoever was on the boat. 

“Can you open the window? I want to say hi to daddy.” 

“Sure, but…just wait a moment, we don’t want to interrupt him if he’s…”

What was he doing?

“We don’t want to interrupt him if he’s working.” You opened the window, their conversation much easier to hear. 

���Ronan, I promise you, every source I have has told me this address is still off the feds radar,” said his brother, speaking at a normal volume.

“It’s not the feds I’m worried about. The feds may not see it, but every other organization will make the connection once the news breaks.” 

“Even so. The only people that come here are blood. They’re more likely to hit me in the city than come all the way out here. The most likely scenario is they’re gonna go after the safehouse up North. We know that, we can prepare for that.”

“No, we don’t know that.”

“Yes, we do. These people are nothing if not predictable. And again, they can’t act on information they don’t have. Besides, name one other time you’ve seen anyone else out here on the water. No one comes through here, it’s your own little oasis. Now come on, let him finish the job, and we can determine our plans for the safehouse tomorrow. Hells, they won’t even know he’s gone until a week I’d say.” 

He relented, letting out a sigh. “Fine. But I want someone out here for the next month. Just in case.”

“I can arrange that.” Finn turned to look back at the boat, walking back to the edge of the dock away from the window. He held his hands up to his face, amplifying his voice. “Hey, Callon?”

“Yeah?” His voice was barely audible, but it sounded like the man you overheard before in the kitchen. 

“You can drop it now. Well…actually, back the boat up just a little more.” You could hear the boy groan, before the boat engine kicked back on. “Yeah, right there’s good, international waters and all that.” 

You heard the sound of something falling into the water, the waves slowly rippling forward. Whatever he dropped into the water, it must’ve been heavy. He drove the boat back to the dock, and when he got out you saw he wasn’t dressed the same as Ronan and his brother; instead of the fine suit, he was sporting an outfit of all black, complete with a mask over his face. As soon as the boat engine was off, the three of them on the dock, Amara stuck her head out the window and called out to them. 

“Hi!” 

The three of them looked up at the window. Ronan and Finn looked horrified, while her cousin, Callon, just laughed, walking back inside. You stared back at them, all of you in disbelief. Finn gave Ronan a pat on the shoulder before following Callon inside, Ronan now the only one looking back at you.

“So…I suppose we need to talk about some things.”

Part 2

thanks for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it! definitely going for more of a slow burn with him, but who knows how long that slow burn is going to last. lots of setup in this first chapter, but i hope you liked it!! also for those who read the old version, pls no spoilers for anyone in the comments! this is an alternate version of Ronan's story, so some things will be a bit different :D

RONAN TAGLIST: @damnitimasimp @sketchlove @madam8 @jar0fhoney @hikaakox @gurlie919

[bruciemilf]

Using OCs as angst devices for megatron is something that can be so personal

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

[ronanlegacy]

The classic meme, but it fits really well with their personalities LOL

[skeleton-chef]

This picture of my friends falling off a lime scooter in a McDonald’s parking lot at 2:00am is just so raven boys core.

[chiropteracupola]

She was a seal, of course, everybody knew it.

[romanoe]

[diagoose]

Ronan has taken it upon himself to reign in two sulky teens, because he's clearly the mature adult in this situation(relax dude they're only two years younger than you, you're still baby yourself).

[silvyadrakkon]

@ronanlegacy’s Ronan 🩷

You borrow my kiddo, I borrow yours ;) (there also needs to be more fanart of Ronan. She’s too pretty.) Thanks for drawing Lyssa!

[theseinfernalangels]

Maneater — Catriona Cordella 🗡️

Synopsis: What’s a girl to do when her best friend and charge shows up to her door in lingerie?

Includes: Yet ANOTHER new OC (my first flier! can we guess her signet?), Cat is hot and I think we should talk about it more, sapphic pining, sexual tension, and some good old fashioned jealousy. Takes place during Iron Flame.

All it takes is the faint padding of feet down the hall to have you swinging your legs over the side of your bed and pulling on that pair of shorts you’d kicked off right before you fell asleep. 

You’d know those footsteps anywhere, even if they were from fifty feet away. Cat.

How odd, you think. It’s barely dawn, and she’s awake. It feels like it’s been every day for over ten years that you’ve been the one waking her up right before morning brief, with her hellbent on making sure she could get every ounce of beauty sleep she could possibly acquire.

You, on the other hand, get little to none. That’s what you get for being a worrier.

You’re on your feet the moment you hear her rap her knuckles against your bedroom door, and there’s no denying the obvious tension she radiates even through a solid wood door.

“The sun isn’t even up yet,” you manage through a yawn, pulling the door open. “Why the hell—“

Oh. Your words cut off into a barely disguised choking noise.

It’s hot out right now. There’s no denying that. You’re not wearing the most modest sleepwear yourself — just an oversized shirt and that cute pair of shorts that barely make it to your mid-thigh.

Cat, however, wears next to nothing.

Heat coils low in your stomach as you take her in the early morning light. That’s got to be a Deverelli silk robe, because it’s Cat — and because you can see through it with no problem at all. It’s a pretty color; she looks good in everything, and she’s always looked best in cherry red, but you have a feeling that it’s not for her.

As for what’s underneath…Phew.

“Well?” she demands. “Are you just going to stand there?”

You clear your throat, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “You’re insane,” you say, a tad weaker than you’d like. Nevertheless, you step to the side and allow her to stride past you and shut the door behind her. 

You take the moment rove your eyes over her shamelessly. You know exactly where she got that bodysuit, because you have one from the same boutique in Braevick. The top, black and deep set with a plunging dip, has nothing in terms of structural integrity, but is definitely maxed out in visual appeal. It’s definitely form-fitting, tight in all the right places and looser in others — but dammit, she looks like the most beautiful nightmare you’ve ever seen.

She sprawls on her back over your unkempt bed with a curse. You follow suit, settling on your knees next to her with what you hope is your usual mask of indifference. “You went to his room in that?”

Cat blows out a long breath in clear frustration. “I thought I looked good.”

“You look stunning,” you assure her. “But you do realize—“

“I didn’t know she’d be there,” she grits out. “I thought riders were all about honor and their stupid fucking Codex.”

Honor? You strain to keep in a snort of disbelief. Half of their cadets had defected from Basgiath, so whatever morals they held true to, it’s definitely not to anything that’s approved of in their precious Codex.

“Well,” you say slowly, eyeing her carefully once more. “Hey. At least she knows what she’s up against now.”

Gods, what perfume is she wearing? It’s sharp, like cinnamon and cardamom, and it’s fucking addicting. You have half the mind to shut down your sense of smell to keep it from rattling your brain.

Cat laughs. “As she should. Although, you could argue that she’s known that from the moment she saw me.”

Why wouldn’t she? Violet Sorrengail is gorgeous in her own right, but she’s no Cat. Beautiful, daring, cocky, and just the right amount of deadly to make your head spin on its axis. Sorrengail is beautiful in the way that you think all women are beautiful, but if you put her next to your best friend, you know which one you’d shoot your shot with instantly.

“I cannot believe her,” Cat says quietly. “Opens the door and then immediately shuts it in my face. Barely even said anything.”

You tilt your head. “In all fairness, if my boyfriend’s ex showed up to my door in a fucking see-through robe, I’d be too scared to look, too.”

Your tone implies nonchalance, but underneath, it’s anything but. Honestly? You’re thankful for Violet. She may be the daughter of an infamous enemy, but she’s done you a massive service — taking all of Riorson’s attention for herself and away from any of Cat’s obvious attempts at getting him back. Seriously; if tensions ever calm down between the fliers and the riders, you’d have to write her a thank you note.

And for shutting the door, too. That means that her lover didn’t get to see Cat — which means this sight is all for you.

“It was a creative attempt, I’ll give you that,” you add, picking at the hem of your shorts. “But I really think that being up front with it is going to be less effective than you think.”

Her contemplative gaze sharpens a little. “Yeah, strategist?” she challenges, tilting her chin up at you like she owns the place. “Do you have anything you’d like to share, then?”

No, is what you want to say. I’d like you to keep wearing that and come to my room instead.

But you can’t say that. Instead, you bite your lip and look at the ceiling, pretending to think.

“You want to make Sorrengail miserable,” you hum. “Fine. So don’t show up to her door in fucking lingerie, Cat. Just show her that you’re better in what she usually excels at.”

That has her sitting upright immediately. “I’m listening.”

Of course she is.

“Think,” you tell her. “She’s fantastic with academics, but she’s got to have limitations, right? What’s the one thing we know that Navarrians don’t even know exist?”

Her full lips purse thoughtfully before her eyes widen in realization. A slow, beautiful, wicked smile stretches across her face.

“You, dear champion,” she purrs, playfully stroking a perfectly-manicured line down your back, “are a genius.”

She can’t feel the goosebumps that instantly appear under your shirt, but there’s absolutely no hiding the tips of your ears going bright pink. 

“Yeah?” you reply, trying your best to sound smug and not absolutely wrecked. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”

“No shit.” She laughs, clear and loud. “Once we’re finally in power, you’re never leaving my side. You have too many good ideas for anyone else to hear.”

You don’t point out that you barely leave her side, anyway — that’s quite literally your job — instead opting for a shrug. “I’d love to. I don’t know where else I’d go.”

Cat goes silent for a moment before she just nods. “I don’t know, either. I don’t want you on the frontlines too often. I can’t imagine a life where you’re not with me.”

You can absolutely say the same, but it’s definitely not within the same context. “Ditto. How else would you come up with ideas for seducing all the hot Third-Years?”

Her thoughtful expression twists into something incredulous. “I don’t…” She pauses. “Yeah, actually. That was all you, huh?”

Well, not really. Cat doesn’t need help in looking and acting like the complete downfall of any logical person, but it’s with your added touches that she really stepped into her own; a small braid tucked into her hair, a subtle shine to her lips, pointing out how irresistible she looks in red…Yeah. A shot of satisfaction fills you. You were the one to suggest buying the very robe she wears now, and you’re damn glad you did it.

“Eh. Fitting at the time. Now go get some actual clothes on before other people see you and figure out what’s going on. I don’t want more targets on your back, thanks.”

She sticks her tongue out at you but gets up anyway. “So bossy, Lovelace. Maybe you should be the one in line for the crown instead.”

That earns her a scoff. “No thanks. I’m good with my place on the sidelines.”

She laughs heartily and skirts over to the door, turning only once to shoot you a sly look. “I’m glad at least one person got to see this.”

She shuts the door right behind her, and you find yourself nodding unconsciously.

“Me too,” you murmur. “So glad, actually.”

You stare at where she left for a few moments before you groan quietly, falling back into your sheets and burying your head under your pillow. There’s no way you’ll be able to fall asleep now — not when you’re desperately trying to ignore that ache that spreads through your gut and down to your toes.

“Dammit, Cordella,” you huff softly. “Why do you have to do this shit to me?”

A shaky exhale leaves you as you close your eyes and squeeze your nails into your palm, counting to twenty under your breath and making sure that you double down on turning every sensation you feel down to the lowest it can go. 

No more. No more. No more.

When everything is quiet and cool, you relax a little, not even bothering to check if your door is locked. No one else is awake, and you don’t particularly care if any of your friends comes to see you — unless it’s Cat, and that stupid set that’s going to haunt you until the moment you can take it off with your teeth.

That will never happen. You know that. You’ll take the small victories, though — and relish in the fact that you’re the only one who really gets to see Cat in all of her beautiful, vicious glory.

Because, while you’re not possessive, everyone in your drift knows that you’re her’s, and she’s yours…although she can’t see it past the guy who won’t even take notice of her.

That’s fine. At least someone will be able to appreciate her, at the end of the day — even if you have to resign yourself to keeping it closed and sealed under your skin.

Taglist: @wonderstruckbyyou, @jessicalee22likestowrite, @freezerbride18, @ineednewdaggers, @suspicious-stain-in-spain, @kienhawon, @goldenmagnolias, @bi-incog-btch

Want to be a part of my taglist? Leave a reply to be added!

[eebeewrites]

DILF Mafia! Elf BF x Nanny! Chubby Reader Part 3

Part 1 -Part 2- Other Stories in This Universe

Synopsis: Ronan teaches you how to shoot.

Tags: 18+, modern fantasy, mafia au, sub reader, dom love interest, fem chubby reader in mind, parenting au, eventual violence and drug references, smut, smut with plot, slow burn

WC: 3k

When you awoke the next morning, you still felt uneasy about your late night activities. 

‘It’s natural. He’s attractive, it’s just…intrusive thoughts. You’ll forget about them in an hour.’ 

You went through the same boring morning routine you always had; you showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, and started your work. Even as the hour passed, you found memories of last night still flashing through your mind as you walked up the stairs, passing Ronan’s bedroom door. ‘Just focus on work,’ you told yourself. 

The twins being homeschooled meant you didn’t need to wake them up until 8:00; a welcome change from the 6:00 AM rush to get children to school you were used to. Despite other ‘circumstances’, this was the most laid back job you had had yet. 

You lightly knocked on Adriel’s bedroom door, expecting him to still be asleep. He opened the door, wide awake, already dressed, and staring right at you. “Hi.” 

“Oh, good morning, Adriel,” you smiled. He had made your to-do list just a little shorter. 

“I did my shoes all by myself! Look,” he pointed down at his feet. Both shoes had been tied perfectly; they were just on the wrong feet. 

“Oh, well you tied them beautifully.”

“Yay!”

“But I’m afraid they’re backwards, buddy.”

“Aww,” he said, disappointed. 

“That’s okay,” you gently patted his head, “last week you couldn’t tie them at all, remember?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he still sounded defeated. 

“You’re very smart. I’m going to go wake up your sister, but why don’t you try to figure out how to fix them? Think you can do it?”

He looked back down at his feet. “Hmm…I think so.”

“Perfect. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He nodded, shutting his bedroom door as you walked over to Amara’s room. You lightly knocked on the door, “Amara?”

No response. You turned the door knob, quietly walking inside. There she was, still sleeping in her over-the-top princess bed, sounding like a jet engine as she snored away peacefully. 

You walked to her bedside, gently tapping her on the arm. “Amara? It’s time to wake up.” She let out a loud groan, one that almost sounded like she was in pain. “Are you okay?”

“No,” she mumbled, half awake. 

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t want to get up.” 

“Is that…all?”

“Yeah. I sleep,” before you could get another word in, she rolled over, the sound of her snoring filling the room once more. You let out a sigh; she was always slow to wake up, but you had figured out a few tricks. 

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, your voice a bit louder. “I guess if she’s still asleep, I’ll need to pick out her outfit for her.”

She got up. 

You brought them downstairs to eat breakfast, sitting with them at the table as you awkwardly avoided eye contact with their private chef. She was an older woman, another elf like most of the staff at the house. You hadn’t once heard her speak the common tongue; only Elvish. If she were a human, she’d look to be in her seventies or eighties. For an elf, she had to be several centuries old. 

You were also fairly certain she didn’t like you. The children loved her, treating her like some sort of grandmother figure, but she had made her thoughts about you clear on your very first day. 

The woman said something in Elvish. You had no idea what she said, memories of your required high school classes on the subject long forgotten, but her tone was one of annoyance. Adriel quickly sensed your confusion, “she said it’s been a long time since daddy’s hired a human.” She kept talking, Adriel listening carefully to translate for you. “She said daddy’s stupid for trusting outsiders.” 

You feigned a smile, nodding your head. “Thanks Adriel. Appreciate it.” 

At the very least, she had come to tolerate you. She could tell the twins liked you, and she respected that. To your surprise, she turned to you, speaking directly at you. This time, Amara translated for you. “She’s asking if you want anything.” 

You were caught off guard, she hadn’t ever asked anything like that before. You had already eaten breakfast, but didn’t want to be rude by declining. Perhaps it was a gesture of goodwill. “Oh, thank you, uh…” you looked over to Adriel and Amara’s plates. You knew Elvish food in general was quite spicy, their breakfasts even moreso. They were eating a dish you couldn’t remember the name of; crispy fried potato cutlets filled with apples and cinnamon, topped with some sort of spiced honey jam. It smelt really good, a tantalizing blend of sweet and spicy; perfect for Elvish children. “Could I try one of those?” 

She nodded, preparing one for you the same way she had for the children. She handed you a plate, and you awkwardly fumbled out the Elvish word for thank you; something you hadn’t done since fulfilling your high school language requirement.

She let out a laugh, mumbling something back to you before turning around and cleaning up. 

Adriel looked up at you, “she said ‘nice try’.”  

You sighed, “thanks, bud.” 

——

You finished getting them ready, and they were off with their tutor for the next three hours. You weren’t sure where Ronan was, you hadn’t seen him all day. You knew he worked strange hours, often late into the night, so you decided to wait by his bedroom door. 

Your instincts were correct, and a few minutes later he walked out. He was dressed much more casually than usual, trading the suit and tie for clothing much more suitable for the outdoors. “Ah, I see someone’s eager,” he smiled. Just when you thought you had pushed those thoughts aside, they came right back. You couldn’t help but picture yourself on your knees in front of him, him uttering the same phrase. 

You barely managed to stay focused. “Oh, I just wasn’t sure where to meet you.” 

“In hindsight, I probably should’ve said something about that, sorry. Just follow me.” He walked forward, and you looked him up and down. You realized now he didn’t actually carry a gun on him; you thought back to old crime movies, the images of tables covered in whiskey, guns, and drugs. Yet for a crime boss with two children, obviously that couldn’t be the case. He led you downstairs to a basement, the room still as decadent as any other; just lacking windows. 

“I try to be as careful as I can with these types of things,” you watched him walk towards a large gun safe at the back of the room. It didn’t look particularly special, larger than the average safe but nothing remarkable. He punched in a code, and opened up the door. Behind the door weren't guns, but an entire hallway. He walked inside, “make sure to shut the door behind you.” 

You nodded, pulling the door closed with an echoing thud as you followed him. The hallway went down longer than you expected, passing several rooms with closed doors; some seemed to be typical storage rooms, one appeared to be a large meeting room. You walked by too quick to know for sure, but one looked almost like a makeshift surgery room. The hallway had a suspiciously clean scent to it; not sterile like a hospital, but almost as if you were stepping into a hotel or a new car. Finally, you came to the end of the hallway. “I try not to do more work down here than I need to. It can get tiring, being underground for so long.” He grabbed a key from his pocket, opening the final door. You walked inside, and all sorts of weapons covered the walls, hanging on racks. Many of them were firearms, with a healthy amount of magical weapons mixed in. Several had name tags next to the hooks holding them up, while a few even had tiny pictures painted onto them, the same way a high school girl might doodle on a pencil case. 

He looked around, thinking. He walked to one of the side walls, eyeing various handguns; it was clear anything remotely automatic was out of the question. “Let’s see…” he mumbled. 

On one hand, it was a good sign his guns were safely secured. On the other, if something did happen, would he be able to get to them quickly? Perhaps it was a good sign they were so hard to access. 

The one he picked was unceremonious; a simple black handgun with no attachments. “Alright, first things first. Treat every gun like it’s loaded. Even if you know it isn’t, act like it is. Second…” he trailed off, looking you up and down. “Are you a mage?” 

You shook your head, “nope.”

“Great, me neither.” He set the gun down on a table against the wall, looking inside a cabinet underneath. “Here it is.” He pulled out a cardboard box, and inside were several small bags of powder with a recognizable brand name printed onto them. They were spell packets; single use spells for non-mages, these ones activated by water. Typically, they were fairly expensive; having an entire box of them lying around was unheard of. You looked closer, and all of them had the same label. An even rarer occurrence. 

Sound and Sight Shield: Water Activated

“As you pointed out yesterday, guns can be pretty loud. This will make it a bit more bearable, and keep anything from getting in your eyes. We’ll wait for you to take it until we’re outside, it can take some time to get used to. I’ll just need to be kinda close for you to hear me, I hope that’s alright.”

You couldn’t help but be frustrated. ‘Are you fucking kidding me? ‘I need to be close,’ fuck off.’ At this point, it felt like the universe was taunting you. “That’s fine,” you said with little emotion, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. 

He took the gun, a single clip, and a bottle of water to activate the spell before heading outside. You knew the complex was from your nature walks with the twins, but you hadn’t ever gone this far out, walking into the forest behind the house. You quickly realized you didn’t own clothing suitable for hiking, the makeshift trail still uneven as leaves crunched beneath your feet, your cardigan occasionally snagging on a branch. 

“Sorry, I can clear this out for next time.”

“That’s okay, I should probably get clothes more suitable outside, to be honest.”

“Just let me know what you want and I’ll get it for you. I know how they like to play outside, I’d feel awful if you ruined something you cared about.” 

“Oh-” never before had your employers offered to buy you clothes. ‘Well, the twins play in the sand and dirt a lot. I suppose it's a fair expense with a house like this.’ “Thanks. I appreciate that.” 

“Of course,” you made your way out to a clearing, and it was obvious he wasn’t the only one who came here for target practice; torn and weathered paper targets were pinned to the trees; some even had names on them. “Before you take the spell, we’ll go over just some basic stuff,” he said as he pulled the gun back out from his belt. He walked you through how to stand, how to hold it, and where to look. “Ready to give it a try?”

You nodded, “I think so.” 

He handed you the bottle of water, and you opened up the spell packet, pouring it inside and shaking the bottle. You had used instant spells for other tasks; dying your hair, getting rid of a headache, all sorts of mundane tasks. You hadn’t used one that dulled your senses though. The bottle started to glow, a pale green light ensnaring from it. You opened the bottle back up, taking a drink from it. It tasted strongly of lime; bitter, but it could’ve been worse. 

A haze came over your eyes; you could still see decently well, but it was as if you were looking through a sheet of glass. You started to notice the sounds of the wilderness slowly fading away. Gone were the sounds of birds chirping and grass rustling, an uneasy silence surrounding you. “Let’s give this one a try,” he said, pointing to a target around twenty yards away, the target less weathered than the others. You saw his mouth moving, but his words were much quieter, the same volume as a whisper. 

“Alright,” he walked closer, his face by your neck. “Move your weight forward, bring it up in front of your eyes.” You could feel his warm breath on your ear, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. You held the gun up, steadying your breath. “Good, just a little higher,” he gently touched your arm, pushing it upward. You could feel his chest lightly against your back, a hand on your shoulder.

“Breathe, you’re tense. Don’t let it scare you, you control it.” You slowly nodded your head, inhaling. “Breathe out slow, fire, and follow-through.” Even with the spell, his voice was low, each word sweeter than the last. You exhaled, keeping a proper stance, and pulled the trigger. 

It was loud. Even with the spell, it was as if you could feel the sound moving through your body. Yet you stayed still, keeping your stance. You finally lowered the gun, watching as Ronan walked over to the target.

“Well, you hit it! That’s a better start than most,” he smiled. You walked behind him, looking at the target. You were off from the certain by a fairly significant amount, veering towards the left; but you did hit it. “We’ll get through the rest of the clip, or until the spell wears off. Whichever comes first,” he shrugged. “It’ll get easier each time, trust me. 

With each shot, you got a little bit closer to the center of the target. You were halfway through the clip when the next shot caught you off guard, the sound of the shot much louder than the rest. Normally spells like this one faded gradually, but this one was going quick.

You flinched at the unexpected loud noise, instinctively pulling backwards into his arms while keeping your arms straight. You still hit the target, your shot far above the center.

He caught you with his arms around your waist, keeping you standing upright. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just…I think the spell’s starting to fade, that one was loud. How in the hells do you do that with…nothing?”

“You get used to it. All things considered, I think you did great for your first time.”

You let out a sigh, readjusting to your changing sight and hearing. “Thanks. I guess I just worry about if I actually needed to use it. How I’d handle it then.” 

“Thankfully, I’m quite confident that won’t happen. There’s a reason almost everything is all the way down there. We don’t need anything like that at a moment’s notice. I keep a few simple things locked up in my room for emergencies, but I’ve never had to open it so long as I’ve been here.”

“How long have you been here?” 

“Seventy years.” 

You looked him over; with elves his age, there was no telling if he was thirty or three-hundred. Still, that was an impressive amount of time for someone in his field to stay in one place undetected. “Is that how long you’ve been doing…this?”

He let out a sigh, “that’s…a bit of a loaded question. A story for another time, maybe.” You only just realized he was still holding you. “I…sorry,” he said as he pulled away. “I just zoned out.”

You turned to face him. “No, no it’s okay.” It was much more than okay. You looked up at him, unsure of what to say next. “It’s…it’s fine, really.” 

He pulled you close and kissed you, his lips on yours before you could react. You weren’t sure if you should be outraged or overjoyed, but you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. It was feverish, as if you were the oasis he was searching for, rejuvenating him after a desolate loneliness. 

He pulled away, looking at you with a horrified look on his face, a hand hovering in front of his face. “I…I’m so sorry, I don’t-I don’t know what came over me, that was…definitely not appropriate.” 

Any remaining sense of normalcy or professionalism was gone. You didn’t have the patience to play games of what was or wasn’t ethical, not after how he kissed you. ‘No going back now,’ you thought. 

You cocked your head to the side, “that’s what makes it fun though, isn’t it?”

He let out a nervous laugh, but the look on his face said it all; you were serious. You leaned closer, and he kissed you once more. You felt his hands start to wander, running down your sides, as if wanting to feel every inch of you. You let your own hands wander, trailing down his chest as you felt the outline of his hard cock under his pants. 

He broke away from the kiss, only to move to your neck, trailing kisses as you started to undo his belt. He was clearly receptive, his hands caressing your ass, sliding under your pants to feel you even closer. You started to pull down his zipper when he broke away once more, placing his hands over yours.”

“Wait. I…” both of you were left breathless by the kiss. “I want to do this, I do, just…not here.” 

‘I really was about to just get railed in the woods, fuck, am I really that horny?’ You nodded your head, “here probably…isn’t the best idea, you mumbled. 

“Just…come see me tonight, in my room, once the kids are asleep. Besides,’ he looked at his watch, ‘they’ll be done in just a few minutes, we should probably be heading back anyways.” 

You nodded, flashing him a playful smile. “You’re right. Well…I suppose I’ll see you tonight?”

He grinned, running a hand down your arm. “I suppose you will.” 

It was going to be a long day. Part 4

jesus CHRIST i love him . i love him so much. hrrr . raaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAH. sorry for edging u all. but i promise itll be worth. pinky promise.

RONAN TAGLIST: @damnitimasimp @sketchlove @madam8 @jar0fhoney @hikaakox @gurlie919 @caotictimmy

[d-esmond]

hello i live. was tagged by beloveds @lilywatt & @leviiackrman to have fun with this picrew <3

mido dumoulin-aziz (assassin’s cree/d)

jules gonzalez (assassin’s cree/d)

aileen walsh (assassin’s cree/d)

flora avery (original)

jaena celtigar (asoia/f))

ronan waters (asoia/f)

tag list:

@adelaidedrubman @auricfog @carlosoliveiraa @cptcassian @famewolf

@florbelles @imogenkol @jackiesarch @johnnystorm @lasersinthejungle

@lavampira @lovewerewolves @loriane-elmuerto @moonflowcr @pricemarshfield

@raresvtm @risingsh0t @roberthouse69 @shellibisshe @socially-awkward-skeleton

@thedeadthree @travellingseal @tommyarashikage @unholymilf @full---ofstarlight

@cybilbennettgf

[vortesssence]

it’s vortigaunt friday, have a desert vort

[ronanlegacy]

THANK YOU FOR ALL THE KIND WORDS AND FOLLOWS IM IN TEARS 😭😭😭

Pictured here: @myokk @rypnami @thornsunicorn @silvyadrakkon @morrowlegacy @okeydokeylackey

[oddsconvert]

I LOVE Henley's "broken" fic!!

Now all I can think about is Henley having a little existential crisis. He realizes that he's completely alone in the world. Izaak tried to get rid of him, Ronan is bored with him, no one ever came to rescue him. He starts spiraling and eventually convinces himself that there is no one left that really cares about him😭

I live for Henley whump😈

THANK YOU, THANK YOUUU - IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOYED!!! (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠) I had so much fun writing it!

(and also, this ask 🤌🤌🤌 you've inspired me AGAIN, SO TA-DA, MORE HENLEY WHUMP! 🙌)

-

cw:// pet whump, dehumanisation, broken/submissive whumpee, noncon drugging, whumper turned whumpee, physical & emotional abuse, power imbalance, whumpee desperate for Whumpee's affection (lemme know if I missed any!)

-

Henley sat curled up in his corner of the basement, arms hugging his knees tight to his pounding chest. Green-eyed jealousy burned behind his eyes as he watched Ronan cradle Izaak in his lap like an innocent newborn - brushing a tender hand over his flushed cheek, cooing down at him.

Even when drugged to the edge of oblivion just to keep him docile, Izaak still got to be adored, whilst Henley was left ignored.

It’s not fair.

Henley bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted copper, his fingernails already chewed down to the quick. Izaak didn’t even have to try. Henley had to grovel for scraps, beg for mercy, claw for the smallest hint of affection. Even when Izaak screamed and misbehaved, when he spat and bit back - he was still wanted.

No matter how hard Henley tried to be good. Tried to be quiet - made himself so small, seen and not heard, playing by every rule in Ronan’s book.

All he’d become was invisible. Was there any space left for him at all? Did the world even want him anymore?

Izaak had tried to get rid of him - tossed him aside like rotting fruit, too bruised to be worth keeping. And now Ronan had grown bored too. These days, he barely spared Henley a glance, unless it was to snap an order or kick him out of the way.

Desperate, needing something - anything - Henley crawled forward on shaking limbs and tried to nestle into Ronan’s leg, trying to feel the warmth of a touch that wasn’t cruel.

But before he could settle, Ronan snapped, smacking Henley down to the floor.

“Down! Bad boy, Henley!” Ronan roared with a sharpness that struck deeper than any whip. Henley cowered into himself, a whimper escaping his lips.

He dropped where he was, spine bowed, hands splayed against the cold stone floor. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Awaited further instruction…or reprimand.

“You wait your turn! Naughty mutt,” Ronan spat, returning his attention to his prized possession, stroking the hair away from Izaak's vacant face.

Henley froze where he was, shame curdling in his chest, and for a moment he swore he could feel the world collapsing in on him.

If he didn't have Ronan…he truly had no-one. Nothing. Nowhere. No name that meant anything to anyone. No face anyone’s missing. No place he could crawl back to, even if he were to crawl out of this hell.

Ronan was his last thread, and now that thread was fraying.

Henley wasn’t strong enough to fight. Not clever enough to escape. Not sweet enough to be loved anymore. He wasn’t Izaak, with his fire and his pretty little bruises that Ronan still cared to kiss.

If Ronan had left Henley to starve, fine. If he'd snapped his neck like a twig, fine. But this? Not even second-best, but just a fallback? A reserve? A hindrance? This slow unravelling; knowing he's unwanted and still being forced to stay - was somehow worse.

Henley didn’t belong anywhere. No-one wanted him. Not a soul cared about him. And if that’s the case… What's the point in surviving at all?

[ask-staffsgt-sullivan]

“got you something while i was on leave.”

crow barely announced his presence, or his return back on base, before handing ronan what could only be described as a terrible souvenir. a bottle opener decorated as the tricolour flag of ireland, with shamrocks thrown over it and ‘the leprechauns made me do it!’ written on the handle.

it was honestly in poor taste and something only a tourist would buy. but judging by the look on crow’s face, he was well aware of this. and living for it.

Ronan looked at it for longer than it should’ve taken him to recognize it was being gifted to him, and when he took it into his hand - he let out an amused, rough snort, face pulling into a grin. The bottle opener was the worst thing he’d ever seen. He loved it.

He looked at Crow with that same grin, and wiggled the bottle opener slightly. He made a move to sign with his hand, but paused. “Worst thing ‘ve ever seen.” He chuckled.

“Good leave?” He tilted his head, now that he knew where his friend had been for the last… month? Christ, he was bad with time.