#Sit and cry where the roses grow
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deweydecimalchickens · 8 months ago
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The Jaynetts: "Roses they won't hurt you, no the roses they can't hurt you"
Toby Daye: *Kubrick-stares at camera in duel-wielding, blood-soaked exhaustion*
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yesokayiknow · 11 months ago
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they try, honestly they do, but the doctor isn't a stationary creature and never has been, especially not when they know there's something they could help with. which is to say, it takes a week of soft quiet life before he starts begging kate for a job. kate in turn withstands three weeks of the doctor's incessant begging and big puppy dog eyes while donna noble stands right behind him and mouths don't you fucking dare before she makes a counteroffer: he can work in a lab (the 'very far away from active duty' is implied) as long as he meets with unit's therapist.
and he refuses, of course, loudly and profusely, right up until donna very gently but very firmly tells him that it really could help, actually.
so. therapy. the doctor assumes it won't do anything. the unit therapist is no nonsense and unflinching and very very bright, and twenty minutes later the doctor sits outside the room hyperventilating while kate finishes paperwork and kindly doesn't mention the way he's all but curled into her.
the second session ends much like the first, and the third, and then the fourth he walks out with dry eyes and a tremulous smile. the fifth, kate calls donna and she takes him home and they drink hot chocolate and he doesn't start talking again until the next day. it takes him seven sessions to be able to stay in the room for the full hour; kate pats him on the back and then finally allows him to build a shield for her office as a reward. she sits outside the therapist's office every time he has a session, even though she has to have better things to do. they don't talk about it.
unit only has files on things the doctor's done on earth, and even then, only sometimes, which means that when the doctor talks about some things he just. edits, a little. talks about two weeks in a confession dial and a month in prison, because maybe then he doesn't have to think about the enormity of it all. and every single time he does this, the therapist looks at him and very kindly calls bullshit. it's weird, being known. it's different with donna. he is donna and donna is him, in ways they will probably never talk about. but he sits in that cluttered little office for an hour a week (sometimes two or three times, if he's doing particularly badly) and he feels seen.
after four months, there are memories he can touch without flinching, and people he can talk about without crying. he starts spending a couple of hours just sitting in the vortex, not because he's hiding or running but just because he likes the way it feels against his skin. he cooks dinner every other night and washes up when he doesn't. he takes out the bin every week even though it's rose's job, because he loves her. and he can say that now, and he doesn't think about her short lifespan or about all the other people they've loved and lost. he can say that and just mean it.
part of his contract is an agreement to never offer a trip to a member of unit unless it's actual life or death (the small chemical leak in the lab doesn't count; he takes shirley to new mars anyway) but he finds himself toying with the idea of asking for a session in the tardis. just once, just to see. the therapist looks at him and sees him and it is monstrous and they keep looking anyway and now the doctor can sit through a family dinner without wanting to tear his skin off and he doesn't know any other way to say thank you.
it's funny, almost, how quickly he grows attached to this person who picks through his hurts and rifles through his traumas and holds direct eye contact while doing so. the doctor talks about their deaths and their crimes and their cowardice and the therapist nods and asks him how he feels and it's. it's terrifying. it's beautiful. it's the worst thing he's ever ever been through, and the best. he feels ripped apart and put back together in a way that few people have ever been able to— huh.
after his sixty eighth session (he's unable to not keep count) the doctor walks outside to where kate is annotating a schematic and says, thoughtfully, they're the master in disguise, aren't they. and kate says oh 100% and please don't let them know that you know because they will definitely go to the second stage of whatever long con they've been hatching and they're too good at this for us to let them go
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br0kenangel · 3 months ago
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘈𝘦𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳.
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The nursery was a whirlwind of noise as Aegon and Aemond, stood nose-to-nose, arguing fiercely. Their baby sister sat on a blanket nearby, her wide violet eyes watching them with a mix of curiosity and confusion.
“She likes playing with me more!” Aegon insisted, his voice rising as he pointed toward their sister. “I’m the one who makes her laugh!”
“No, she likes me better!” Aemond shot back, crossing his arms defiantly. “I’m the one who reads to her!”
Their bickering continued, growing louder with each passing moment, neither of them noticing the soft patter of tiny footsteps approaching. Little Daeron toddled into the room, his big eyes full of innocence. He looked from Aegon to Aemond, then over to his sister, who was sitting quietly on her blanket, seemingly forgotten by her squabbling brothers.
Without making a sound, Daeron walked over to his sister, his steps wobbly but determined. He reached out with his small hands, and she, always delighted by her youngest brother, lifted her arms toward him. With surprising ease for his age, Daeron picked her up, wrapping his little arms around her as he balanced her on his hip.
The older boys were so engrossed in their argument that they didn’t notice as Daeron carefully carried their sister out of the nursery, her giggles muffled as she snuggled against him. He navigated the corridors with surprising confidence, eventually finding his way to the garden, where the late afternoon sun bathed the roses in a warm, golden light.
Daeron gently set his sister down between the tall rose bushes, their vibrant blooms towering over her. She giggled again, reaching out to touch the soft petals of a nearby flower. Daeron watched her for a moment, a wide smile on his face, before carefully plucking a small rose. He held it delicately in his tiny hands, just as he had seen the maids do, and then leaned in to tuck it into her hair.
“There,” he said in his sweet voice, his words still slightly lisped. “Pretty.”
His sister beamed at him, her little hands clapping in delight as she reached up to touch the flower in her hair. Daeron’s smile widened, and he began to hum a tune—one of the lullabies he had heard their mother sing. His voice was soft and uncertain, but the simple melody seemed to enchant his sister, who watched him with adoration in her eyes.
Meanwhile, back in the nursery, Aegon and Aemond’s argument had finally come to an abrupt halt when they realized their sister was nowhere to be found.
“Where is she?!” Aegon asked, his voice tinged with panic as he looked around the empty room.
Aemond’s face had gone pale, his one good eye wide with fear. “She’s gone!” he cried, the beginnings of tears forming in his eyes. “We lost her!”
The two brothers tore through the Red Keep in a frantic search, their hearts pounding in their chests. Servants were questioned, corridors were scoured, and they even checked behind the curtains in every room. But there was no sign of their sister.
Finally, they reached the garden, bursting through the door with wild, desperate energy. Aegon was ready to yell out for help, his voice rising in a cry that was sure to bring the whole Keep running, when he suddenly stopped short.
There, nestled between the rose bushes, was their baby sister, sitting comfortably in Daeron’s lap. The tiny boy was still humming his lullaby, his chubby fingers gently combing through her silver hair as she gazed up at him with adoration. And then, to the utter shock of Aegon and Aemond, she leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on Daeron’s lips, her expression filled with innocent affection.
Daeron giggled, delighted by the kiss, and wrapped his little arms around her in a tight hug. She responded by snuggling into his neck, hiding her face shyly as if to escape the world in the safety of her youngest brother’s embrace.
Aegon and Aemond stood frozen in place, their jaws dropping in unison. The jealousy that coursed through them was almost palpable, their earlier argument now seeming insignificant in the face of this new development.
“How did he—” Aegon started, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration.
Aemond, still stunned, could only shake his head. “She kissed him,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud would make it any less unbelievable.
Daeron, completely aware of the turmoil he had caused, simply looked up at his older brothers with a straight face. “We playing,” he explained in his cold voice, as if he didn't wanted them here.
Finally, Aegon stepped forward, reaching out to take his sister from Daeron’s lap. “Come here,” he said softly, his voice gentler now as he lifted her into his arms. She looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes, and his heart melted all over again.
Aemond joined them, standing close as he reached out to stroke her hair, his earlier panic forgotten. “We were so worried about you,” he murmured, his voice filled with relief.
But their sister, still cuddled against Aegon’s chest, just giggled and reached back toward Daeron, making it clear she wanted to keep playing. Daeron, proud of his little adventure, stood up and toddled over to them, his smile as bright as the sun.
“She's mine,” he said, more sharp this time, and the two older boys couldn't help but be scared of his tone.
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Part 1 ♡ Part 2
@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.
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girlgenius1111 · 7 months ago
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hallmarks of sisterhood
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putellas!reader. r mediates a fight between her sisters. they don't realize they're tearing her apart in the process. at least, not until they ruin an important night for her. can they make it up to her? fluff & angst.
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Being significantly younger than your sisters, you were the true baby of the family, and were treated as such. You were already a pretty sensitive person, and the overprotective tendencies of the entire family only increased this. You were quite different from both your sisters. Alba was an extrovert, always talking, always laughing, never thinking too hard about anything. Alexia was quieter in public, but always loud at home in an attempt to match Alba’s energy. The competitive gene only seemed to skip you, and you hated conflict. Any type of it. You didn’t like yelling, you didn’t like arguments, and you couldn’t stand when people were mad at you. 
It made sense then, that you’d always been the mitigator between your sisters. They were always fighting growing up, and it took a very small you to break up the fights that the teenage versions of them would get into, often shoving your small body in between theirs and singing a song so loudly they had no choice but to stop arguing. If the singing didn’t work, then you’d cry, and that always worked. 
As you got older, your role changed slightly. You were still the mitigator, but more because you were logical and smart and both of them could normally trust you to be objective. You didn’t really enjoy it, but you hated it more when they weren’t speaking to each other, so you did what you could to resolve their fights easily. 
All of this considered, you were not surprised to catch yourself in an argument between them yet again. This one wasn’t super similar to the others, though, in that it was much more emotionally charged. Both Alexia and Alba seemed angrier at each other than normal, and you didn’t know why. Still, you tried to fix it, as best you could. 
-------
“I cannot believe you, Alba.” Alexia sighed, shaking her head at her other sister. 
“Don’t try to guilt trip me, Ale, this isn’t my fault. I told you before there was a chance I’d have to go to this conference.” Alba shot back.
“You don’t have to go, you are choosing to go. So you can hook up with that coworker you're seeing.” 
Alba flushed red with anger. 
“Let’s calm down, guys,” you began, shifting uncomfortably in your seat in the corner of the sectional. Neither girl paid you any mind. 
“I am going for work, Alexia, I wouldn’t sleep with anyone at a work conference.”
“Oh, yes of course, you’re so above that. You are notorious for not hooking up with people in inappropriate situations Alba, how could I forget. It was only 4 of my teammates you slept with? And how many of my other friends?” 
“You are such a-”
“Stop.” You cut in. “Alexia, that was mean. Alba, she’s just disappointed because she was looking forward to spending time with everyone.” You cut in, trying to cool the rising temperature of the room. 
“No, I am disappointed because we made a commitment to do this for Mami and now she’s backing out. Like always.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” Alba scoffed. 
“The last trip to Ibiza. Mother’s day last year. My 25th birthday,” Alexia began to list, counting the events off on her fingers rather condescending. 
“Guys, please calm down.” You attempted. 
“Will you ever get over me missing your 25th birthday? Or are you going to have it engraved on your tombstone? ‘My sister missed my birthday once and I never shut up about it.’” Alba yelled, getting to her feet and walking closer to where Alexia was sitting at the kitchen counter. 
When Alexia rose to meet her, you stood nervously, too, moving a bit closer. “Why don’t we all stay seated?” You tried. 
Both of them continued to ignore you, as if you weren’t even there. “That is not the point, Alba.” 
“No, Ale, the point is that only your career is important. Everyone has to drop everything for football, but what I do doesn’t matter, and I have to bend over backwards to make things work with your insane schedule. The world doesn’t revolve around you, Alexia.”
“Oh my god, Alba. You are such a bitch.” Alexia sighed, rolling her eyes in a way she knew would make the younger girl furious.  
“You are the bitch, Alexia. A selfish, bossy, mean bitch,” Alba yelled, crossing her arms and taking a step closer to the older girl. 
“Alba, I swear to god,” Alexia threw back, the volume of her voice making you flinch. You stepped in between them, forcing them to both back up a bit. 
“Please stop shouting.” You pleaded, looking between them. Both of them turned to you, annoyed.
“Go somewhere else if it’s bothering you, pequeña! Adults argue. Grow up.” Alexia yelled, sending a glare your way. You stopped back, blinking away tears, looking incredibly hurt. Alexia sighed. “Sorry, nena, I didn’t mean-” 
It was too late, though, you were pushing past her towards the door of her house. “No, whatever. I’ll go. Solve your argument by yourselves for once.” You snapped. 
“Nice job, Ale, you made the el bebe cry.” Alba said mockingly. 
“Shut your mouth, Alba. Pequeña, come back,” Alexia called, but the door was already slamming shut behind you. 
You wiped at your eyes furiously, getting into your car. You’d always hated how sensitive you were, how anyone raising their voice at you made you cry. You couldn’t argue, couldn’t disagree without dissolving into tears. Normally, angry tears. You’d always been like this, and your sisters often made fun of it, but were aware of the fact that you hated yelling, and tried to avoid doing so. Even when they were fighting with each other. Today got too out of control, though, both of them taking this specific issue very seriously. 
They’d have to figure it out themselves, this time. You were done with this. They knew how you felt about conflict, and yet they always put you in the middle. It was exhausting and hurtful being caught in between them. They were adults, they could solve this argument. 
You and Eli didn’t live far from Alexia, and you reached home before you were really ready to. You needed to erase all evidence of your tears from your face before heading inside, because Eli could not know about this. You and your sisters did not tell on each other, for one thing. For another, there was a possibility the trip in question could be rescheduled and you didn’t want to ruin the surprise. 
You checked your face in the mirror, took a deep breath, denied Alexia’s phone call, and headed inside, prepared to pretend that nothing was wrong. 
------
You got past your mother with very few questions asked, as she was distracted reading over Alexia’s new Nike contracts. Your sister still had Eli read all her contracts, a habit you and Alba teased her about often. 
Eli did come knocking, though, only a few hours later, while you were in your room getting some homework done. “Nena?” She called from the hallway, not hearing a response to her knock. 
Still, you didn’t say anything, so she pushed the door open, only to find you asleep at your desk, your head resting on a pile of photographs, your computer opened up to photoshop. A black and white photo of your sister at training was pulled up, and Eli quickly averted her eyes, knowing very well she wasn’t supposed to see this particular assignment until you were done.
“Mija,” Eli said, covering her eyes as she heard you stir. “Go to bed, it’s late, and you are exhausted.” 
“Do not look, Mami!” You cried, sitting up completely and quickly flipping everything over and shutting your computer. 
“I’m not!” Eli replied, laughing at how secretive you were about these photos. 
“Okay, everything is away.” You said, standing to give your mother a hug before getting into bed. She squeezed you tight, as she always did, kissing your cheek before letting go. 
“Goodnight,” she said, giving you a kind smile. 
“Goodnight mami,” you replied, knowing she was smiling because she knew you were about to get back on your computer as soon as she left the room. 
“Oh, do you know why your sister’s are fighting? I texted the groupchat with them, and they both replied to me separately.” Eli asked with an eye roll, quite used to your sisters’ antics. 
“Something dumb, probably.” You said with an unconvincing laugh. Your mother gave you a weird look, like she didn't believe you, but didn’t push it. 
As soon as she was out of the room, you were, in fact, back on your computer, finishing up the final touches on a photo of Alexia. You were really too excited to be preoccupied with your sisters at the moment. You were in school studying photography, and after a recent exhibition at your school, a gallery in Barcelona had reached out and asked you to shoot a series for them to display. They’d given you full creative control, which was an insane amount of trust to put into a 20 year old, and you were determined not to mess it up. 
If that meant staying up late making sure every photo was perfect in the next couple days, so be it. You were proud of this work, and that wasn’t really a common feeling for you. You’d grown up in the shadow of your two sisters. Alexia was the best female footballer in the world, and Alba was… Alba. Everyone loved her. Nothing you ever did seemed to really make anyone pay attention, except for your Mami. Eli had always been careful to celebrate your and Alba’s accomplishments, like she celebrated Alexia’s, even if they weren’t of the same magnitude. Your sisters were a bit better than the rest of your family and friends, paying attention to what you did, but it always felt a bit like your mother was making them do so. 
This was your chance to do something impressive of your own. Something that everyone could understand, everyone could be impressed by. It was an opportunity you were not about to waste. You didn’t realize the potential that other people had, though, to ruin it for you. 
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The next few days were busy. When you weren’t working on your photos, making sure they were perfectly edited and printed properly, you were worrying about what people would think about them. Or you were trying to pick the perfect outfit for Saturday evening, the opening of the gallery. There wasn’t a ton of time for you to respond to Alexia’s repetitive apologies, or to Alba’s pleading for you to be on her side. It was annoying, really, that during such an important and stressful week, they couldn’t leave you out of their argument. 
You finally had enough on Friday, pulling up the groupchat with both of them in it, and sending a rather harsh message. It wasn’t like you to be harsh and snap at them, and you were hoping they would get the message that they’d upset you, and you wanted to be left out of this. 
If one of you texts me one more time about this idiotic fight, I am going to tell Mami that it was you two who dented her car, not the neighbor backing into it. I am so tired of being pulled into the middle of this. Both of you apologize to each other for being mean, and get over it. 
You hoped that would be the end of it. When your phone buzzed a few minutes later, though, you knew that had been a naive hope. 
Alexia had responded first. 
It should not be hard to pick a side when I am right, nena.
Alba responded after that. 
You always let Alexia get away with things you’d yell at me about. You can both apologize to me when you are ready.
You weren’t really sure how Alba had decided that you’d sided with Alexia, but you certainly were not going to be apologizing to her anytime soon. You left them both on read, figuring they’d make up before the gallery opening tomorrow night.
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You were up pretty much the entire night before the gallery. This time, not because anything needed to get done, but because you were nervous. You were thinking about everything that could possibly go wrong. By the time morning rolled around, you slept for maybe a couple hours, and created a decisive list of every bad thing that could happen today. 
You actually hadn’t thought of everything, but you wouldn’t know that until later. 
You’d passed out just as the sun had started to rise, and Eli came in to wake you up only a few hours later. 
“Nena, despierta,” she said softly, setting down a mug of coffee on your nightstand and shaking your shoulder. 
You bolted upright in bed, and looked around frantically, startling your mother. “Am I late?!” You gasped, moving to get out of your bed as fast as possible. 
“No, no, you aren’t late. It is only 11. Relax, mija, everything is okay.” Eli soothed, gently pushing you back down onto the bed. 
You let out a relieved sigh, rubbing at your face with your hands. “Sorry.” 
“Did you sleep at all?” Eli asked with a disapproving look. 
“Not much. I tried, I swear, I just couldn’t turn my brain off.” 
Your mother patted your cheek reassuringly. “You’re almost done, nena. It’s all going to go perfectly.” 
You nodded, trying to believe her words. You just had this weird, nagging feeling that something was going to go wrong. There wasn’t time to focus  on this feeling, though, no matter how much you wanted to. There was simply too much to be done. Accepting the hug your mother offered, you got up, ready to prepare yourself for the long day ahead.
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You didn’t really think anything of it when you didn’t see either of your sisters right away. You were busy greeting other people, family and friends. Some of Alexia’s teammates had made it, and you spent some time taking in the awestruck expression on Mapi’s face when she saw the singular photo of her included. 
That was the best part of the whole thing, you decided. Getting to see everyone’s reactions to seeing themselves up on the wall. 
The theme was people you loved, in their happy place. The project was joyful and fun, radiating happiness. Looking at the photos made you smile, and you were glad to see that everyone seemed to have the same reaction as they took their time looking at each image. 
You had Mapi giggling at something Ingrid had said, a candid taken after a Barça game. Ingrid was smiling back at her, like making her girlfriend laugh was the only thing she wanted to do for the rest of her life. 
You had your Mami, sitting in the stands of one of Alexia’s games, looking on with pride all over her face. You had her pinching Alba’s cheek, a fond smile on her face as your sister said something that was, no doubt, ridiculous. 
You had your aunts and your uncles around the dinner table, all laughing hysterically. 
You had your friends at the beach, all lounging and staring out into the ocean, looking peaceful. 
You had your best friend sitting in the driver's seat of her car, singing along passionately to her favorite song. 
More than anyone else, though, you had your sisters. 
Alexia preparing to take a penalty, determined. Celebrating with her teammates after a goal. Cheekily blowing a kiss to Olga in the stands. Smiling proudly at Vicki after an impressive goal. Proudly wearing the captain’s armband in front of a completely sold out stadium. Leaned against Olga on the couch after a movie night, out cold. She was completely peaceful, with Olga looking down at her adoringly. 
You had Alba at the school where she taught. Candids of her face, when one of her students got the answer right, or made her laugh. With her dog, holding him up at the aquarium, eye level with one of the dolphins. You had her watching Alexia play, too, a grin on her face that you were sure she was unaware of. Your favorite of Alba was a photo you’d taken in your Mami’s kitchen, while she’d been baking. Alba was sneaking a taste of the cake batter, and you’d captured her mid-wink, giving the camera a smile while Eli’s back was turned to her. 
They hadn’t seen any of these photos; you’d almost gone crazy not showing them, and not giving in to them when they begged to see.
 You’d finally managed to break away from a crowd of your friends, having a moment to yourself, when you realized that you still hadn’t seen your sisters yet. Ale’s teammates were here. Some of Alba’s friends were here. The whole family was here. You checked your watch, a frown on your face, seeing that they were both already over a half hour late, which was unlike both of them. It was only when you saw Olga looking up at one of the photos she was pictured in, all by herself, that you really got a sinking feeling in your stomach. She was talking to Irene when you walked over and interrupted, gently pulling Olga away from the conversation. 
“Where is Ale? Is she coming late?” You asked, confused by the sad look on Olga’s face. 
“No, nena, I’m sorry. She didn’t want to see Alba, so she decided not to come. I tried to convince her to, but she didn’t listen.” Olga said delicately. You looked like you’d been hit across the face, honestly, and Olga wanted nothing more than to march home and drag Alexia over here, but she knew better to try to convince the blonde to do something she had decided she wouldn’t. “She said she texted you?” 
You pulled your phone out, taking a deep breath when you saw almost identical texts from both of your sisters. 
Can’t make it tonight. I’ll come see it another time. Good luck! 
Sorry, hermanita, I can’t come tonight. Love you.
You had been so excited for them to see their pictures. There was a little note up on the wall, too, a statement thanking everyone for coming. In it, you mentioned being excited to allow your sisters to finally see the photos, as they’d been begging to for a while now. And they hadn’t come. 
A wave of embarrassment washed over you, your cheeks flushing red. You were angry, too, but you blinked your tears back, looking up at Olga and trying to look more put together than you felt. 
“No Alba either.” You said, your voice cracking slightly. 
“Oh, nena, I am so sorry.” Olga whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. It was too soft, and too comforting. You pulled away rapidly, shaking your head. 
“It’s fine. I don’t care.” You said, cutting the brunette off before she could say anything else. “I have to go talk to someone, thank you for coming, Olga.” 
You rushed away from your sister’s girlfriend, focusing on taking deep breaths. You couldn’t be sad, not right now. So many people had come here to celebrate you and your work, and you weren’t going to ruin it. You could be upset later. It was almost excruciating, pretending that you weren’t upset that your sisters hadn't come, but you managed it. You kept up a pretty good façade for the rest of the evening, even when you saw Olga speaking in hushed voices to Irene and Mapi, even when everyone kept asking where Ale and Alba were. You held it together. Because you, unlike them, could pretend that nothing was wrong for the sake of others. 
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Your mother knew you better than anyone. You should have been thrilled, ecstatic. Everything had gone so well. Your photos had been a hit, the owners of the gallery had been thrilled. She realized neither of her other daughters had shown up, but she assumed they had talked that through with you. She wasn’t sure what was wrong with you, but when you declined going out with some of your friends as the night came to an end, Eli knew something wasn’t right. 
She had every intention of letting you come to her, but you weren’t talking. As everyone began to file out of the gallery, saying their final goodbyes, Eli overheard you tell your friends you were going to go home because you were tired. You didn't say a single word to her aside from telling her that you’d see her at home, before you practically fled the building, heading for your car. She didn’t couldn’t imagine what was wrong, never expecting her daughters to have done what they did. Eli didn’t even think of them being a possible reason as to why you were upset. Mapi pulled her aside, though, before she could go after you, an infuriated look on her face. 
“Do you know what your daughters have done?” She asked quietly. 
Eli frowned. “No. What have they done?” 
Mapi shook her head. “They both bailed on tonight over text to pequeña. They are in some stupid fight that they’ve put her in the middle of, and they didn’t want to see each other, so they didn’t come.” 
Suddenly, Eli was quite furious at her eldest daughters. There would be hell to pay, she’d make sure of it. How could they be so selfish, and ruin your night like this? You’d been almost beside yourself for weeks about this night, and she knew the people you wanted to impress most were your sisters. And they hadn’t come. Before she yelled at them, though, she needed to go home to you, because she was very sure that you weren’t okay. Your odd behavior made sense, now, and Eli’s heart ached at the thought of you driving all by yourself while you were so upset. 
“I will deal with them.” Eli said quietly. “Thank you for telling me, María, and for coming. It meant a lot to her.” 
Mapi smiled sympathetically. “Of course. Let me know if you need help kicking some Putellas ass.” 
Eli chuckled. “I will.” 
She set off to her car after that, ignoring Alexia’s numerous phone calls. Likely, Olga had arrived home and laid into her for not coming, and Alexia was looking to be let off the hook from her Mami that she hadn’t messed up that badly. Eli wouldn’t be doing that. 
-------
You didn’t make it far into the house. In your new dress, one that was reminiscent of the dress Alexia had worn to win her first balon d’or, you’d collapsed onto the couch, harsh sobs ripping their way out of your chest. You cried until your makeup ran and your chest hurt. Until your Mami arrived home, rushing through the door, her heart breaking when she saw the state you were in. Eli was by your side instantly, pulling you into her arms. It was rare that a hug from your mother didn’t make you feel better, but this was the case today. You weren’t really sure that anything would help, but you still buried yourself into your Mami’s arms, wishing more than anything that she could fix this for you. 
“They didn’t come, Mami,” you sobbed. 
“I know, mija, I am so sorry.” 
“Am I not more important than their stupid fight?” You asked, looking up at your mother with a devastated expression on your face. “I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.” 
Eli felt anger fill her at a level she’d never quite felt before. “I am proud of you, cariño, so proud of you. It’s all going to be okay, I promise. Everything is going to be fine.” She soothed, running her hand through your hair, shushing you softly. Her fury would have to wait, until you stopped crying. Eli would always put you first when you needed it, even if your sisters didn’t. 
-------
It was late by the time you’d stopped crying and headed up to bed. With a soft goodnight to your Mami, you’d slumped upstairs, barely changing into your pajamas before you collapsed into your bed, absolutely exhausted. Being disappointed was tiring, apparently. And you were more disappointed than you’d ever been in your life. 
Downstairs, Eli waited until she heard your door shut before she pulled her phone out, returning one of the 15 missed calls from her eldest daughter. Alexia picked up quickly, her voice dripping with guilt.
“Mami, I-”
“No. Do not try to explain yourself. You and Alba have done a terrible thing, Alexia. I am not sure how you will make it up to your sister, but you will. You will figure out how to fix it, you will apologize, you will mean it.” 
“Sí, Mami.” Alexia said, her voice small like when she used to get scolded for kicking the football in the house or holding the tv remote high out of her sisters’ reach. 
“I am so disappointed, Alexia. In you and Alba both.”
“I know, Mami.” Alexia replied, blinking hard to fight off her tears. “I’ll fix it, Al and I will fix it.” 
“You will. Goodnight, Alexia. I love you.” Eli was furious, but she’d always say it, always make sure her daughters knew how loved they were. 
“I love you too Mami,” the blonde choked out, feeling worse about this than she’d ever felt about anything in her entire life. 
Eli called Alba next, who was significantly more clueless about the situation. Neither had known the other wasn’t going, but it was beyond your mother how either of her daughters could have underestimated how important to you this night was. Alba was in tears, like Alexia, by the end of the call, also promising her mother she’d fix it. 
Eli knew the level of guilt Alexia and Alba must have been feeling at the moment, considering how protective they were of you. They never wanted you to be hurt, but you were. And they were the reason why. As she checked on you, ensuring you were asleep, she knew that her older daughters would go to the ends of the earth to make this up to you. 
--------
Alba was sitting on her couch, willing herself to be the bigger person and pick up the phone to call Alexia, when she heard a knock at the door. The brunette knew who was there before she pulled it open, not flinching when her older sister was standing on her front porch. 
Alexia had a drink carrier in one hand, and two bags in the other, giving Alba an unreadable look. “Can I come in?” 
Alba nodded, stepping aside to let her sister in. The blonde headed for the living room, setting the coffees down, and grabbing hers out of the holder. Alba grabbed the other, noting that it was her favorite coffee, and her favorite breakfast pastry, from her favorite bakery. A bakery Alexia didn’t particularly like, but had clearly stopped at just for Alba. 
It was a peace offering. One that Alba took, grabbing the coffee and the pastry, sitting on the couch next to her sister in a much less tense silence. They made up in the way only sister’s could, with no words necessary for either of them to know that the other was sorry for what had been said. 
“We fucked up.” Alexia said after a minute, glancing at her sister. 
“We really did.” Alba replied. 
“We have to fix it.” Alexia declared. 
“We really do.” Alba agreed. 
“Are you going to keep agreeing with me, or are you going to come up with a solution here?” 
“As the one who started the fight that led to us letting our sister down, I think it should be you who solves the problem, Alexia.” Alba retorted, a smirk on her face. 
Her sister shook her head, shoving the brunette’s shoulder lightly. “You are supposed to be the smart one, hermana. Get thinking.” 
“New car?” 
“New house?”
“Can we buy her a country?”
They broke into laughter, the tension completely gone from the room, before they really got brainstorming. They were a good team when they weren’t fighting, and it wasn’t long before they’d come up with something that they hoped would make up for their horrible behavior. 
-------
The minute you saw Alexia’s car pull into the driveway from your spot on the couch, you were standing up, prepared to flee the room. You’d known this would happen at some point today, but you weren’t ready to see them. You felt so humiliated and so neglected, you were sure that seeing them would have you in tears, and you didn’t really want to show that emotion in front of them. Not now, not when they were the reason you were so upset. 
You knew how important family was to your mother, though, and you knew that if she told you to stay and talk to them, you would. Looking at her cautiously, you took in the wary expression on her face. 
“Do you want to hear them out, mija?” Eli asked gently. 
“No. I don’t want to see them right now. Please don’t make me.” You begged. 
“I won’t make you do anything. Go upstairs, I’ll tell you when they’re gone.” Eli sighed, and with her permission, you practically sprinted up the stairs to your room, closing and locking the door behind you. 
Your older sisters walked through the doors to the house like they were afraid of what awaited them inside, and it seems that they should have been. Eli stood from her chair, walking over to them, looking unimpressed at the large present in Alexia’s hands. 
“Hola Mami,” Alba greeted softly. They both wanted to make this up to you, of course, but they also hated when their mother was mad at them. 
“I do not think that buying her a present is going to fix this.” Eli said pointedly. Alexia and Alba exchanged nervous glances, relaxing slightly when Eli allowed them further into the house. “What is it?” 
“It’s the new camera. The brand new canon model that she wanted, with all the extra lenses and storage and stuff.” Alexia said, feeling less and less confident about how she and Alba had chosen to go about this. 
“And you think that is enough?” Eli asked bluntly. 
“It’s a start.” Alba said, a bit defensively. “We know we messed up, Mami, and we missed the opening night but we can go see it today. Are you not being a little dramatic about this?” 
Alexia shot her younger sister a look, knowing exactly how hurt you were, because Olga had returned home from the gallery and told her. 
“You did not see her last night. When she realized you weren’t coming? She completely shut down. She talked to everyone she needed to, but I did not see her smile the rest of the night. She rushed out of the building just as the evening ended, and by the time I got home, she was sitting on the couch, sobbing. It was supposed to be her night, and you ruined it.” Eli snapped. 
Alexia and Alba both looked appropriately ashamed, their heads dropping, gazes pointed at the floor in an almost identical fashion. They felt guilty, obviously, but Eli wasn’t quite sure they understood that it wasn’t just about them missing your event. It was so much more than that. 
“She asked me why she is not more important to both of you than an argument. I do not want to spoil the gallery, but I do not think you understand how embarrassing it was for her to have countless photos of you two up on the wall, when you did not even come.” 
Both her daughters’ heads snapped up at this. “Of us?” Alba asked. “The project was of us?” 
“It was about her loved ones. You two were featured more than anyone else. She was so excited to see your reactions to the photos.” Eli continued, only making them feel worse. 
“Please, Mami, I cannot hear anymore.” Alexia said softly, her heart aching at the thought of how upset you must be at the moment. Every detail that her mother added made it worse. She wasn’t sure she’d ever done anything like this to you before, and the thought that you might not forgive her was filling her with anxiety. 
“No, you will hear all of it.” Eli said, shaking her head. “She said to me, ‘I was so excited for them to see, I just wanted them to be proud of me.’” 
“We are proud of her, she has to know that.” Alba cut in desperately. Her mother just shook her head. 
“She does not. Nothing she ever does feels very important to either of you, because it is always something you have done before. This was something that was her own, and she just wanted to share it with you. Everything your sister does is so that you two will be proud of her, and pay attention to her.” 
At this, Alexia stood up from the couch, walking over to the window and putting her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook with silent cries, and neither her mother or her sister were very surprised at the emotional outburst. Alexia was always emotional when it came to you; she remembered the day you’d been born, every milestone in your life. You were your very tough sister’s soft spot. 
“Do you think we can fix it?” Alba asked quietly, terrified of her mother’s answer. 
With a deep sigh, Eli nodded her head. Alexia turned around hopefully, hanging on to Eli’s every word. “Your baby sister has always been more forgiving than both of you. She is hurt, but she will forgive you. She loves you both too much not to.” 
Every word Eli said felt like a bullet to the chest to both of your sisters, something your mother was well aware of. She wasn’t going to sugar coat this. It was silent in the room for several minutes, every member of the family lost in thought. Alexia looked furious with herself, Alba looked like she was close to tears, and Eli just looked disappointed. She’d always trusted your sisters to take care of you when she couldn’t, but she wasn’t so sure she had that confidence in them anymore. 
“I have an idea.” Alexia said finally, looking between her mother and her sister hesitantly. They both agreed to what she proposed, though, and it wasn’t long before Eli had pulled out some paper and pens for her daughters. They both sat on the floor around the coffee table and got writing. It was reminiscent of when they’d do their homework in the same spot years ago, sitting on the floor so they could play with you while they finished their assignments. 
Now, though, you were painfully absent from the scene in front of your mother, and Eli could only hope that this would work. 
-------
Alexia and Alba agreed that only one of them would go upstairs, give you the two pieces of paper, and let you be for the evening. Alexia was desperate to see you, while Alba wasn’t sure she could do so without crying, and she didn’t particularly want to put that on you at the moment. You hated seeing your sisters upset, and she didn’t want to inadvertently guilt you into forgiving her before you were ready. So, Alexia made her way upstairs, agreeing to Eli’s warnings to leave you alone if you wouldn’t let her in. 
Her knock on your door was uncharacteristically gentle, and her voice was almost shaky as she announced herself. 
“Nena? Can I come in for a minute?” 
Taking a deep breath, you opened the door, feeling rather satisfied to see the guilt all over her face. 
Alexia stepped into the room, looking so nervous and so unlike herself. She was fidgeting with two pieces of paper in her hands, barely able to bring herself to look you in the eye. “I am so sorry, hermanita. More sorry than I can put into words.” She didn't seem to know what else to say, and you rolled your eyes. 
“Do you think that is enough?” You asked. 
Alexia shook her head rapidly. “No, I know it isn’t. Alba and I are going to fix this, nena, I promise. Whatever we have to do, whatever it takes. We will make this up to you. There is nothing more important to us than you.” 
Your eldest sister could tell you didn’t believe her, the way you looked away from her was a dead giveaway. 
“I know you are upset, and that is okay. I just… can I give you a hug, nena? You can still be mad at me and everything. I’d just really like an hermanita hug.” Alexia said vulnerably, tears clouding her vision. She had underestimated how painful it would be to see you so upset with her, but her chest truly ached as she took in the betrayal and disappointment on your face. A few tears fell from her eyes, and it was this bit of emotion that had you nodding your head, stepping forward as Alexia wrapped her arms around you almost painfully tight. 
It made you feel better, even though it probably shouldn’t have. Your sister’s hugs always felt warm and safe, and today was no exception. Even though she’d hurt you. It was still Alexia, and she was a hard person to stay mad at. Still, you pulled away before you wanted to, and the blonde cleared her throat, holding out the pieces of paper for you. 
“From me and Alba. We will be downstairs, if you want to talk.” Your sister opened and closed her mouth a few times, before shaking her head, mustering a weak smile, and leaving the room. She shut the door behind her, something she never did, always insisting on leaving it open just to bother you. 
You opened your sisters’ letters, not quite sure what you would be reading. You weren’t quite angry anymore, just sad. You were never one to hold a grudge, but you weren’t sure how they were going to be able to make this stop hurting. 
You underestimate, however, how well your sisters knew you, and combined with the information they had from Eli, they knew just what to say. You read both the letters a few times, tears streaming down your face for what felt like the 12th time that day. This time, though, they were good tears. 
Both letters were similar, but very… specific to each of your sisters. 
Alexia’s was practically a bullet pointed list, in her messy, big handwriting. There was a mark on the page that looked suspiciously like a teardrop, and Alexia talked about her emotions in the letter the way she always did in real life; saying as little as possible, while still somehow saying a whole lot. 
Alba’s was a real letter, paragraph after paragraph of neat writing, beautifully articulating what she wanted to say to you. It was always a bit surprising to remember how perceptive Alba was. She was a forgetful person, but not when it came to the things that mattered. This was clear in the letter, as she listed small details out that you hadn’t thought she’d noticed. 
Both of the letters were an apology. An apology, and a deep dive into how proud of you Alexia and Alba were. They apologized for not making it clear, before going back to when you were a baby, and they watched you walk for the first time. Through the years, they had overlapping and different memories of things you’d done that made them swell with pride. There were things you remembered, and things you didn’t, but they made you feel special all the same. Alexia and Alba did pay attention, that much was clear. Even if they weren’t always the best at showing it, they paid attention to you. 
It did more than a verbal apology could have ever done. It was something tangible, kind, warm and loving. It made you feel loved, and seen. It made you feel like you mattered. You weren’t Alexia, and you weren’t Alba, but you were you, and they felt that to be something much more special. 
You tried to hold out a bit longer, you really did, but you were putting the letters down and rushing downstairs before you could really stop yourself. 
You passed the kitchen on the way to the living room, where your Mami was preparing dinner, a small, relieved smile on her face. Wishing you had something funny and unbothered to say, you walked into the room, seeing your sisters sitting on the couch, looking pathetically distraught. 
“Hola.” You said softly, feeling indescribably happy when both of their faces lit up at the sight of you, and you quickly crossed the room, wedging yourself in between them. They made room for you, as they always did, allowing you to fit easily into your spot squished with Alexia on one side, and Alba on the other. 
They each wrapped an arm around you, and both tried to pull you in opposite directions. It was ironic, the way they used you to play a silly game of tug of war. This time, however, they stopped pulling when they realized neither of them would win. Instead, they both wrapped you into a very awkward and suffocating hug, arms wrapped around you from seemingly every direction. 
“I love you, nena.” Alexia whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. 
Alba did the same to your cheek. “I am so sorry, hermanita, and I love you so much,” she whispered. 
“I know.” You said softly. “I forgive you.”  
And if it had been either of them in your position, it would have taken a lot more. You were the forgiving sister, though, and you’d really just needed proof that your sisters thought that you were as important as you felt them to be. 
When Eli came in the room a few minutes later, it was to see the three of you in a rather familiar position; you in the middle, each of your sisters holding on to as much of you as they could, completely content. They’d always like to hold you like that, starting when you were a baby. Alexia would carefully put you on the couch in between them, and put a movie on. They would take turns telling you all the important details your brain was far too small to comprehend, but you didn’t squirm, and you didn’t fuss. You would stay plopped right in between them, one of each of their fingers gripped tight in your hands. 
It was a lot different now, because you were all bigger. It looked like an uncomfortable pile of limbs on the couch, but Eli knew you were all as comfortable as you’d ever get. 
-------
Neither of your sisters seemed very willing to let you out of their sight anytime soon, which you were sure would grow annoying very fast. For now, though, you enjoyed the attention, especially when Alexia pushed the wrapped box that had been sitting on the table into your hands. 
And, you’d already forgiven them before you’d seen the camera they’d bought you, one that you’d been desperately wanting for a while. If you hadn’t forgiven them, though, you would have now. You could be bought, and your sisters were well aware of it. As was your Mami. She rolled her eyes as you stared in awe at the camera, as Alexia and Alba looked on proudly, sharing a discreet fist bump. Personally, Eli thought you’d let them off kind of easy, but she shouldn’t have underestimated you. You were a youngest child, and you knew how to get what you wanted. 
“Can we go see your photos after dinner?” Alba asked, not even getting a glance from you, your attention completely zeroed in on the camera in your hands. 
“Nope.” You replied. Alexia and Alba looked uneasily at each other, and then at their Mami for guidance, before you spoke again. “Alexia, you are going to clean my room. And Alba, you are going to make me those cookies I like. We can go see the gallery tomorrow.” 
Your face was smug, and your mother stifled a laugh as your sisters looked disgruntled at each other. Begrudgingly, though, they both nodded. 
“Anything for the princess.” Alexia mumbled, and Alba snickered quietly. 
“What was that?” You asked, turning your attention to your sisters. They looked at you in defiance, smirks on both of their faces, not willing to let you completely walk all over them, even if they deserved it. 
“You heard me.” Alexia teased. “The baby princess always gets her way.” 
“Really, Ale?” You asked calmly, before turning to Eli, your new camera briefly forgotten on the table in front of you. “Mami, do you have any plans in two weekends? I was thinking we could take a trip just the two of-” 
Alexia cut you off by rather aggressively throwing herself at you, covering your mouth with her hand. “NO HERMANITA!” The blonde shouted. “Oh, gross, nena, really?” She groaned, pulling her hand away when you licked it. You smiled triumphantly, managing to push away from her a bit. 
“You are not a princess, nena. Just a little baby.” Alba chimed in, reaching over from her chair to pinch your cheek in one hand. “Now keep quiet before you ruin the surprise and give Ale a stroke.” 
Your mother shook her head, taking pity on her eldest daughter, who looked prepared to explode at the thought of the surprise being ruined. “Do you think I do not know you were planning a trip for the four of us, Alexia? Honey, you asked me several times if I was free that weekend, and reminded me not to make any plans then either. You also asked me for hotel recommendations, and pretended it was for you and Olga. You are a bad liar, mija. I have known for weeks.” Eli laughed. 
Alexia frowned, shoving you and Alba both away from her as you both collapsed into giggles, despite the fact that this was entirely her fault, and you and Alba were blameless. She knew there was teasing coming her way, but the smile on your face was well worth it. Order had been restored, and both of your sisters had made promises to themselves, and to each other, to not let their arguments hurt you anymore. You were just happy to have them both there, at home. All four of you together, how it was supposed to be. 
-------
it will really always be funny to me that my sister and i do not say the words "i'm sorry" to each other. like we'd both rather die than apologize. she could hit me with her car and i wouldn't want her to apologize because... ew. anyway sometimes having a sister is cool and sometimes its not but i love mine.
everyone applaud me for not splitting this into two parts. seriously i am astounded at myself right now.
hope you all like it :) give me all your thoughts.
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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months ago
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Blood Bag
DC vs. Vampires AU, but The Vampire King won. ~3.2k words
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There's no warning, no notice for an apocalypse. There wasn't any preamble, when vampires established a new order to the world.
Jason, your Jason, had only whispered the basics as he held you to his chest. Had only told you he has to try and stop their leader, that if you knew anymore, it would be dangerous.
You knew being Red Hood was risky, but you had hoped, as you watched him leave your apartment, that he would be safe. That his family would protect him where you couldn't.
You waited for him to come back to you. To come back with the world saved and him unharmed.
He doesn't.
The world ends. It was quick, bloody, and ruthless. The world ends, and something new rose from the gore and destruction left in its wake. A new world begins, one led by The Vampire King, who reigns over it with sharpened claws and even sharper fangs.
The lucky ones got to continue with their lives, struggle to adapt to the new normal, their new rulers. The really lucky ones, the ones who were already powerful and godly, got changed into something unkillable.
The unlucky ones, you, got chosen for a far worse fate. Blood Bag. Vampires and humans alike spit it like a slur, like you're something less all because the bite marks that litter your skin. As if any one of you were given a choice.
You hadn't asked to be taken to the castle fortress that the Vampire nobility called home.
You had been in your apartment, watching the world fall apart from the safety of your home. Watching in a dazed horror as Dick Grayson's signature smile, now adorned with pearly fangs, flashed across the news, when he just appeared in front of you.
You'd said his name, jumped to your feet to touch him– to hug him, grateful he was safe and alive.
But he'd stopped you. Said he wasn't Jason anymore. Said he was just Red Hood now. It didn't make sense at the time.
Jason was Red Hood, and Red Hood was Jason. You didn't realize how wrong you were until you ended up kneeling alongside other humans in front of The Vampire King.
He had given a lavish speech about your new place in the world. That the humans staring up at him in fear and awe were special. Chosen to serve in his court. That being a Blood Bag was an honor and a privilege.
You might have believed it if they hadn't dragged you to the dungeons after.
You were left there, cold, confused, and hungry for almost a week. Your cell mates come and go, but the ones that return always come back with their skin covered in deep, telltale puncture wounds.
They whisper stories of the grand parties, the growing crowds of spawns, the brutality of The Vampire King, and his court.
You wait for your turn, and wonder if maybe when you are chosen, you'll be one of the prisoners that don't come back.
You don't get any warning, when it's your time. Two spawns with sunken eyes drag you from your sleep, hauling you from the dungeon and across marble floors.
They taunt you, proclaiming that you're a gift for The General. That you'll make a fine pet, a good blood bag, if he manages not to kill you tonight.
A part of you wants to scream. To cry. To beg. To hope as you have every night since Jason brought you here, that he'd come back for you. But your hope runs out as they force you into a lavish bedroom.
Two new spawns take over from the guards, they wash you, dress you, and soon enough, you almost look like you haven't spent a week in a cell. They leave you sitting on the soft bed and an order to not disappoint.
A part of you wants to use the moment, to seize the opportunity to escape. But you're so tired. So hungry. So thirsty. And the bed is so comfortable. But whatever comes next for you could be worse than that cell.
The door swings open, and you jolt from your thoughts. You're expecting someone fearsome. Someone terrible and evil and threatening. But it's Jason.
You think he's going to free you, save you. You believe it wholeheartedly. Until you see the glint of his fangs.
He steps towards you, eyes focused and dark, and you realize who The General is. You realize what he's going to do.
The first time Red Hood feeds from you, you feel nothing but pain. It's agonizing, to feel your life being dragged out of you and drank down by someone who could so easily kill you.
There's no ceremony. He sinks his fangs into your throat and leaves you exhausted and dazed on the bed while crimson drips haphazardly down his chin.
The second time isn't any easier, he only takes what he needs. His fingers don't brush over your skin to soothe you. He doesn't speak a word of comfort. He only presses gauze to the bite wound before leaving you to recover alone.
The third time is different. He lingers when he's done. You might be crying. You're too tired and dizzy to be sure.
But you're not so far gone that you don't notice the way he presses a kiss to the puncture marks. Like it's a twisted apology.
His hand traces lines over your back. He holds you close, even after he's done draining the blood from your veins.
The way he feeds from you changes after that. He treats you like you're precious. He presses kisses to your skin before he bites.
He licks away the trails of blood and tears. He presses his face to your pulse and doesn't move until your heart finds a steady pace.
He still doesn't speak. He hasn't since he told you he's not Jason anymore, but he hovers when he's done. He brushes his fingers along your jaw, watches you as you fall asleep.
It's not until you're brave enough to leave the room that you learn your status as Red Hood's Blood Bag has privileges.
It turns out the bedroom you've constantly been left alone in is yours. You can wander most of the castle and its gardens freely. No one else tries to feed from you.
But it doesn't stop the taunts and jeers. Doesn't stop the spawns or the high-ranking nobles or human servants alike from spitting curses at you.
But no one touches you. No one seems to want to earn Red Hoods, and in turn, The Kings, ire.
You hadn't realized the protection that his marks had offered you.
Not until you started to hear the whispers that followed you, the murmurs that warned of sinking their teeth into the only Blood Bag Red Hood seems interested in. How any bites or scratches not his would be a death sentence.
The months of faded scars that mark your skin serve as a warning to them. But to you, they're a stark reminder of the new world you're forced to navigate.
They become memories, in a way, of the mistakes you've made.
The bite on your palm marks the day you spoke to another Blood Bag out of turn. You can't forget the panic that sparked in their eyes as a spawn dragged them away. (You haven't seen them since)
The bite on your shoulder marks the night you tried to run. You had barely made it to the garden walls when Red Hood had lazily appeared at your side. It didn't take words to know he'd been aware of the moment you left your room.
Mistake after mistake, bite after bite, create a sick patchwork of art over your skin.
You try to cover the ones you can see, for your own piece of mind, but the extravagant outfit you're wearing now? The one that's been picked out for tonight's ball? Does little to hide exactly what you are.
It's rare for you to make an appearance at any of the Vampire Kings events, and the times you have gone have been incredibly short and spent entirely at Red Hood's side.
But the chatter that floats about you in the ballroom suggests The Vampire King had expected your presence. Each snide smile and quiet laugh sends a chill down your spine.
You'd expected this night at court to be like any other, one or two dances, and then a quick return to your room.
You're proven wrong when Red Hood is pulled from your side at the request of The King.
You're not completely sure how long you've been left waiting at the edge of the grand dance floor, but it's been long enough that your feet ache, and your shoulders feel tight.
Long enough that you don't think twice to slip out of the loud, music filled room and into the darker, quieter halls.
It's another mistake.
A spawn, drunk on blood and his own immortality saunters into your path. "A pest," he drawls, eyes eerily fixed on the juncture of your neck, "a pretty pest, but a pest nonetheless."
You offer a customary nod, safe under the illusion of safety the marks scattered over your body brings.
The spawn shatters the illusion when he snatches your hand with supernatural grace, "Be still, pest, I thirst."
"You can't," You protest quickly, the words spilling before you can think on them.
He pauses, head tilting in a mockery of interest, "and why ever not?"
"I'm–," You start, then pause, saying it aloud feels too real. "I'm Red Hood's," You finish, voice weaker than you mean it to be.
The spawn drags his claw over the palm of your hand, laughing as the drops of blood begin to form in a line of ruby dots, "You? Pretty pest. Not even the lowest of us would want to keep a Blood Bag that's been shared by so many."
"I haven't been–" You breathe out, but his claws only dig deeper into your skin, turning your words into a wince.
You don't tear up, don't cry or beg. It hurts. It always does. Even the idea of being fed on hurts. But your next thought keeps you quiet.
Maybe this spawn will lose control. Maybe, in a way, you can finally be free. The thought makes your heart rate spike, and you're not sure if it's in fear or anticipation. You're not sure if death is something you're ready to face.
He doesn't give you a moment more to think on it. The spawn pulls your palm to his mouth, fangs glinting as he prepares to bite down.
He doesn't get the chance.
A flash of red catches your eyes, and suddenly, your wrist is no longer restrained.
Your mind can't quite keep up with what just happened, and by the time you've even registered his presence, Red Hood has his claws buried in the spawns chest.
If the sight of blood wasn't something so common in The Vampire Kings court, you would be sick. It's messy, loud, when Red Hood rips the spawns unbeating heart from his chest.
You stumble to lean against the wall, when Jason tears the spawns head from his body and crushes it beneath his boot. You don't get a good look at what's left before Jason is in front of you, blocking your view.
He grabs your wrist and presses you flush to the wall. He offers you no warning before his tongue traces the line of blood on your skin.
It's something you should be used to, but you still make a noise of surprise, still instinctively try to pull away.
Jason only shoves a leg between your thighs, trapping you between his body and the wall behind you. His grip on your wrist tightens, and his head bends down again. His gaze doesn't stray from yours, almost like he wants you to watch.
Jason slowly licks at the cut again, then drags his fangs down your hand and to your wrist. He never blinks as he bites into your skin, adding another mark among the many others that cover your skin.
He drops your wrist and steps back once he's had his fill, "You were letting him feed from you. No one else feeds on you. Haven't I made that more than clear?"
"It's not my fault," You protest weakly, "He didn't believe me when I said I was–"
"That you were what," he asks, voice low and almost threatening. You find that entirely unfair, considering you're the only that almost had their life drained.
"That they're yours," a happy voice supplies with a chirp, "Maybe it's time you did something to show that, don't you think, Little Wing?"
You immediately drop your head at the sight of the Vampire King leaning against the wall. You can't help but think, by the cocky grin growing on his face, that he witnessed the entire thing.
Red Hood scoffs, like the idea is ridiculous, "They're covered in my bites. What else could they need? That idiot should have known–"
"But they didn't," The King supplies with a smile and walks over to you to lift your chin with a sigh, "and your little pet could have died for it."
Red Hood stiffens, and you can feel the tension growing in the corridor. He shoots a glance towards the decapitated spawn, as if he's considering removing the rest of their bones piece by bloody piece. "So what do you suggest," he finally asks, voice low and measured.
If you didn't know better, you'd think he was on the verge of ripping you away from the Vampire Kings clutches.
The King only shrugs in return, "You should have shown them off more. Taken them to court. Feed from them during parties."
Red Hood goes to speak, but The King continues to talk as he tilts your chin back and forth, "Blood Bags are symbols, after all. Power. But you've always kept the things you like tucked close to your chest. Haven't you, Little Wing?"
"I don't– I don't like them. I just don't want some spawn watching me eat," Red Hood counters, and neither you nor Dick miss the way his fingers twitch towards you.
The Vampire King nods sagely, "Then I suppose you won't be interested in keeping them."
Red Hoods head snaps up in the same instant the Vampire King spins you around, his fangs catching the skin above your pulse, "And if you're not interested in a Blood Bag," he drawls, voice low and lazily as he trails off, leaving the implications of his threat in the air.
It leaves you wide eyed and frozen. The Vampire King presses closer to your back, drawing you by your hips as his free hand curls around your neck. His fangs don't quite break your skin, but the cold promise of them doesn't waver.
The ball hadn't scared you in this way. The spawn hadn't left you with tears filling your eyes, terror tightening your throat. Not even the dungeons had made dread fill every cell of your body.
Jason drops to his knees, any facade, any lie he had been trying to maintain disappears, "I want them. I want them. Please–"
The Vampire King laughs, and his fangs leave your throat. He shoves you, and you stumble to the ground into Jason's waiting arms. He keeps you caged tightly to his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head.
"I was only teasing, general, truly, you're the only member of my court who's proven time and time again you're deserving of your status," The King drawls.
You can't see him as Jason keeps your face pressed to his shoulder, but you can hear the sick glee building in his voice.
Jason tenses as Dick continues, satisfaction dripping from his tone, "The resistance camp you personally slaughtered? The leader's head left on spikes? I couldn't have done it better myself."
"I'm– I'm honored to have impressed you," Jason says steadily, fingers digging into your skin. You think if he still had a heart, it would be beating just as fast as yours.
The Vampire King hums in response, as if he's suddenly grown bored, "Go enjoy the gala, Little Wing. Remind the raff who you are. And what that makes them."
Jason doesn't argue, just hauls you towards your feet and drags you towards the ball. You keep your gaze lowered, but you can still see him checking over his shoulder, as if he's worried the Vampire King will change his mind.
"What he said– about a resistance–" You begin to ask, desperate for knowledge, but more desperate to finally hear his voice again.
"Don't. They won't win," he answers sharply, not giving you a chance to ask more questions as he pulls you into the ballroom, and drags you to the dance floor.
He doesn't let you find your footing before he's spinning you around the dance floor, arm hooked firmly around your waist.
You try to ignore the remnants of blood, his boots leave on the sparking floor.
Every cell in your body screams at you to talk again, to demand answers. To know how he ended up like this. To know why all he seems to leave you with now are questions and scars.
You open your mouth to ask, throwing whatever decorum you should have in front of The Vampire Kings court to the wind, when Jason drops you into a dip.
Your breath hitches, and his lips find your pulse.
The sounds of the ball seem to fade around you as you stare up at the decorative ceiling lined with mirrors and gold.
He kisses down your throat, curls his hand tighter into your back and all you can think about is how odd it is, to know the room is so full and yet there's nearly no reflections in the mirrors above.
Jason runs the tip of his nose back up your neck, following the veins under your skin.
"You've always smelled so good," he murmurs. It's the only warning he gets before he sinks his teeth into your throat, drinking you down in the center of the ballroom for everyone to see.
It draws a whimper from your lips, and it only seems to encourage him to hold you tighter, to lick every trail of blood that spills from the marks on your neck.
He kisses the punctures his fangs left when he's done. It feels less like an apology this time, and more of a claim.
When he finally lifts you from the dip, when you're finally able to steady your vision even as it threatens to swim, he shows you his teeth, and his lips are dyed in the color of your blood.
"Brava," the distinctive voice of The Vampire King breaks through your hazy mind. Your eyes never leave Jason's, even as clapping begins to sound throughout the ballroom.
You're not sure what it means. You're not sure if The Vampire Kings' interest in you is just some passing folly.
But Jason's eyes are dark, intense, and they flicker with the weight of knowing. But there's more to it than knowing. It's clear in the way his eyes never yours either. There's a desire, a want, a need to keep.
To make it an unshakable truth, that whatever role you're meant to play in The Vampire Kings world, you're going to do it at Jason's side.
His eyes hold a promise, and he seals it with a bloody kiss to your pounding pulse.
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alvojake · 1 month ago
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How Could You? | P.SH
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「prompt」 : spare me 「pairing」 : bf!sunghoon x fem!reader 「word count」 : 1.6k
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「synopsis」 : while you have been working hard to build a life for you and sunghoon, he was out living his best life. though all of your hard work crumbles when word gets out that sunghoon had been seen with another girl in the club.
「genre」 : angst
「warnings」 : cussing, crying, mentions of pregnancy, cheating, small argument, confrontation, mention of divorce, lmk if I missed anything!!!
「notes」 : me watching too many short Chinese dramas part two... but we're almost done with angstober, how are you guys feeling thus far?
masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list
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“Congratulations Mrs. Park,” The doctor smiled at you sweetly as he handed you the test report. You looked down with glossy eyes, reading the words over and over in your head.
‘Pregnant’
It felt like a dream come true. You had just gotten a massive promotion at work, so you would be bringing home more money for yourself and Sunghoon. You were entirely grateful that you could support him while he continued his studies, and now you could even start growing your own family with him.
After quickly thanking the doctor, you made your way out of the hospital into the waiting car parked in front of the building. The driver greeted you with a smile as he held the door open for you, his hand covering the top to protect you from hitting your head.
“Are we headed home, Ma’am?” He asked as he got into the driver's seat, starting up the car, causing a low rumble to be heard around you.
Returning his smile through the rearview mirror, you nodded, “Yes.”
Then, with a nod of his head, he turned his attention back to the road in front of you, pulling out of the parking lot. You settled into your seat, hands resting in your lap with the test results and your eyes staring out the window. A happy grin spread on your lips at the thought of telling Sunghoon about all of the good news that you had received.
Just then, you felt your phone buzz in your hands, tearing your gaze away from the window. Turning your screen on, you see a message from your best friend, Yeji, who also just happens to be Sunghoon’s little sister. A giddy feeling bubbles in your chest at the thought of telling her that she was going to be an aunt soon, but when you opened your phone, all of that happiness that you once felt washed away in an instant.
‘Where are you y/n? Have you seen the news?’
Her question worried you, had something happened to Sunghoon or either of your families? Panicked, you quickly backed out of the messages and into the first social media app you found. It took you a few moments and reloads before it finally popped up.
And bile rose up the back of your throat.
You reread the headlines over and over and over and over again, and you so deeply wished that your first worry had been true instead of this.
‘The Renowned Son of the Park's, Park Sunghoon, Seems to Have Reverted Back to His Old Playboy Ways.��
Tears blur your vision as you read more before looking at the pictures and videos of Sunghoon sitting in a nightclub with females surrounding him, some perched on his lap, his hands in places a married man definitely shouldn’t have his hands in. Completely in awe, you backed out with shaky hands and went back to message Yeji, asking her if she knew which nightclub he was at. She gave you the name and address before telling you that she would meet you there.
“Change of plans,” you said, leaning forward to talk to the driver, trying your best to keep the tears that pooled in your eyes at bay.
Anger and hurt bubbled in your gut as you stormed into the club, ignoring the people who greeted you along the way. The music that blared through the speakers made your head spin as the bass vibrated the ground beneath your feet. Steeling yourself, you looked around the packed room, trying to find that blonde male you knew was somewhere around here.
“Are you looking for someone, Miss?” A worker walked up to you with a smile, and you nodded slowly, closing your eyes and then going back to scan the crowd.
“I’m looking for my husband.” Your words were curt, and her smile faltered for a moment before she was able to replace it once more.
“What’s his name? I can see if he’s on our list.” She told you nicely despite the unease that was growing in her gut.
You opened your mouth to tell her your husband's name, but you were cut off when a hand landed on your shoulder and a voice was heard from behind you.
“Park Sunghoon,” Yeji told the worker, and the poor girl visibly paled, a ball forming in her throat as she looked between the pair of you. However, she was taking too long for both your and Yeji’s taste. "Do you or do you not know where he is?”
Swallowing thickly, the worker nodded her head before motioning behind her, “Follow me.”
Yeji laced her arm through yours as the both of you followed behind the girl, ignoring any and all of the looks you were receiving along the way. However, despite your best efforts to ignore the lingering comments, you couldn’t ignore them all.
“Isn’t that Mr. Park’s wife?” someone off to your right whispered to her friend who sat next to her. "Has he finally been caught?”
Noticing where your attention was, Yeji tugged on your arm before nodding towards the table in the far back corner. There, sitting in the middle of the bench, one hand holding a half-empty glass of liquor and the other wrapped around another girl’s shoulder, was none other than your husband.
Seeing him act like this without a care in the world shot an arrow right through your heart. All of these years that you had worked your ass off to make sure that you both could live happily in the future seemed to have been in vain. Because while you were working overtime almost every night, he was out doing god knows what at this very nightclub.
“Sunghoon, how could you?” Yeji was the first to speak, stomping her foot as she held onto your arm.
At the sound of his sister's voice, Sunghoon’s head snapped in your direction, a look of panic flashing across his features. He tore his arm around from the girl next to him and placed the glass on the table before he stood to his feet.
“Y-Yeji, what are you doing here?” Sunghoon asked with a slight quiver in his tone. His eyes solely locked onto his sister, seeming to have not noticed you standing there next to her.
“How could you be so shameless? You’re cheating on y/n while she’s out there working effortlessly to support you.” She scolded the older male and that’s when he finally noticed you standing there next to his sister, tears clinging to your eyelashes as you just stared at him.
Even with all of the apparent evidence in front of you, you didn’t want to believe that he could actually do something like this to you. Your eyes then flickered up to meet his, panic and guilt swirling in his dark iris’.
“Y/n–”
“How long?” You cut him off, biting your tongue to keep the tears that so desperately wanted to fall at bay. 
Sunghoon moved around the table to reach out towards you, “I wasn’t–”
“How. Long?” You enunciate each word as you take a step away from him, wanting to keep as much distance between you as possible.
“Six months.” He breathed out, his shoulders slumping and his head dropping down, guilt starting to eat at the back of his mind.
You felt a lump form in your throat as you stared at him, completely astonished; your hand instinctively went to your stomach. Recalling the doctor's test results, you were only a month or so along, meaning that while he lay with you in bed, he was also keeping other women company as well. You suddenly felt sick to your stomach, causing you to hunch over.
“Y/n!” Yeji exclaimed, grabbing onto your arms tightly and helping you stand back onto your feet.
Sunghoon moved to grab a hold of you as well, but you shoved his hands away. A glare adorned your features as you looked up at him.
“If this is what you want, then don’t let me stop you.” Your tone was bitter, and your eyes burned with tears as you held onto Yeji. "But don’t expect me to be waiting when you get home.”
Yeji then helped you turn to walk away, but of course, Sunghoon wasn’t going to give up that easily. He reached out, grabbing your arm to make you turn to look at him.
“Please, y/n, we can talk about this.” His eyes pleaded with you, but all of the sympathy that you once felt for him was gone, smothered with his own two hands.
“There’s nothing to talk about, but do me a favor…” You once again shoved his hands away from you, silent tears falling from your glossy eyes, “sign the divorce agreement when my assistant brings it to you.”
And without another word you grabbed onto Yeji’s arm and walked with her back out of the nightclub, leaving Sunghoon there to stare at the spot you were once standing in. His whole world crumbled in just mere minutes.
You sat in your car, the silence almost comforting as your driver took both you and Yeji back to her place where you would be staying for the time being. Your hand then moved the rest on your stomach, your thumb brushing along your clothed abdomen.
“I’m sorry little one, but it’ll be better this way…” You whispered as more tears spilled from your eyes.
Noticing your distress, Yeji wrapped her arm around you, pulling you into her side so you could rest your head against her shoulder. She tried her best to comfort you as you cried in her arms until you finally cried yourself to sleep, hoping that this all was just some cruel dream that you would wake up from in no time.
But you weren’t in a dream and you would only wake up more heartbroken than when you had fallen asleep.
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@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work
𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.
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hermaeusmorax · 4 days ago
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What have you done?
CHARACTERS: Jayce x reader, slight Viktor x reader (more platonic!)
SUMMARY: you, Jayce and Viktor share history. You're arguing with Jayce about his actions in the Undercity. Reader is described having a metal arm!
WARNINGS: SET IN SEASON 02 EPISODE 06 SPOILERS AHEAD! this is very angsty, descriptions of death and bodies, gets steamy in the end (minors DNI!), enemies to lovers type shit (my jam!)
A/N: okay so this is my very first piece after a 4 years HIATUS (hiii haha), anyways, fucked up Hexcore!Jayce is just sooo *twirls hair*
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"What have you done?" You scream as you blindly lunge towards Jayce, a random weapon tightly clutched in your hands — no doubt discarded by some, now dead, Noxian soldier. You could barely see an inch in front of you due to the surging chaos, but you were sure about Jayce, you would never mistake him, his silhouette, his scent.
It had been months since Jinx's attack on the Counsil. Months since Viktor emerged out of the Hexcore changed, taking you to Zaun with him and leaving Jayce behind. You were a chemist, Viktor's childhood best friend that stuck by him since the very beginning. You and Jayce had a brief, intense, spark. It happened before him and Mel, before it became hard to grasp his attention, being Piltover's golden star and everything. It hurt when you left him, standing at the laboratory, his pleading brown eyes boring holes into yours and Viktor's backs. But Viktor was right, your paths, your visions, had long strayed, being held together only by lasting affection.
In Zaun, at Viktor's — The Herald's — growing community, you acted as a chemist again. Helping the newly cured zaunites, researching to improve their lives as much as possible. You had been specially busy since Vander's arrival, severely mutilated by Viktor's former teacher and in desperate need of help. You were working in your makeshift lab, absent mindedly humming a familiar tune when hell broke loose.
A loud, sharp sound echoed, followed by more crashing sounds and piercing screams. Smoke rose in the air, making it almost impossible to inhale. For a split second you could hear Viktor's voice in your head whispering, "Jayce", you ran as fast as your legs permitted, desperate to locate the origin of the sound, to locate Viktor. When you finally did find them, you wished you hadn't. The starking image of his limp and dead body made your breath hitch, mind speeding so much to make sense of things it made you dizzy. Blood rushed to your ears, making a deafening ringing sound, you rubbed your eyes, squinting to adjust, then you saw another figure, a tall and dark frame.
Jayce looked, different, but your brain had no time to process that information as you grabbed the first weapon you could find thrown on the floor, lunging at him. "What did you do?" "How could you?" "I hate you!" you breathlessly shout, aiming for Jayce's head with your stray weapon, then again, you never were much of a fighter, that was Jayce's job. The last thing you heard before the world went complete black, was his voice, a cry of your name, sounding so broken and lost.
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"Sorry for knocking you out like that. I hope your head's not hurting too much." you heard Jayce's soft voice, distant at first as you were regaining consciousness, then close, right at your ears. You slowly woke up, blinking the throbbing pain away you were at last able to recognize your surroundings.
Jayce had brought you to your old laboratory, right at Piltover's heart, where you had last seen him, where you had left him. You were sitting in a chair, your mechanical arm resting on the table beside you, laying alongside dirty, well-worn tools. "I fixed it. Your arm. It looked broken and I-" Jayce blurted out, stopping with a nervous chuckle when you looked at him. "My technique might not be as delicate as Viktor's but it's fixed, working. I promise!". When Viktor's name left Jayce's lips, a haunting image of his corpse flashed in your mind, compelling you to leap forward and forcefully grab Jayce's collar, gripping so tight your knuckles turned white, drained of blood. You were trembling horribly, fueled by an ugly mixture of grief and hatred, your words came out hoarse, stinging like a whip.
"You promise? Ha! You killed him Jayce! You- you just disappear and then when you finally come to us, you go and kill him? What's wrong with you? I don't know you anymore, you've become someone else entirely and I- No!" you were panting, tears angrily threatening to spill "That's too gentle for you, you're a murderer, Jayce, a monster!".
Jayce's mind was racing, spinning with the force of your words and then it finally snapped. "Shut the fuck up!" he tore your hands away from his shirt, holding your wrists and pulling you close, pressed up against his chest. "You have no idea Y/N! You can't possibly begin to understand what I was put through!" "I was in there, while you and Viktor were out here playing house!" "I kept my promise!".
Jayce's eyes were red, frantically shaking looking into your own, in desperate search of something. He was so close, you could feel his heartbeat and his breath fanning your face, his scent was attacking your nostrils mercilessly, engulfing you in his presence. Like this you could almost see the old Jayce inside there, somewhere — untainted, full of promise — the one you fell hard for. All it took was a single look from him. A single, meaningful, glance down to your mouth from his so pretty brown eyes. He was so, so close. Next thing you knew you and Jayce were in each other's arms, kissing so forcefully it almost broke skin. Kissing like your very lives depend on it, like you'll die of asphyxiation if you stop.
Jayce hoisted you up the table, sending tools and papers flying, both of you couldn't care less right now. He positioned himself in between your legs, leaning some of his body weight on you, forcing your back to meet the cold surface beneath. "Jayce!" you breathed out, talking into his mouth, gasping for air and breaking the kiss for a second too long. Your hands, firmly resting on the back of his neck, wandered to the hem of your shirt, fidgeting with it, trying to lose it. Jayce noticed and made quick work of your shirt, hurriedly sliding it over your head and tossing aside to a forgotten corner.
"Don't stop" you huffed against him again, voice dripping with want, you struggled blindly to unbuckle his belt, too busy reciprocating his fervent kisses to bother to look down. "I got you" Jayce urged, going crazy with the way your lips felt on his, even more addicting than he remembers. He reached down, tugging off your pants and underwear in one precise motion. Your senses were completely overwhelmed, all you were able to think, see, hear, smell and feel was Jayce.
You were both pouring everything into this kiss, into this very moment. Bleeding years of bottled up love and regrets into each other's systems. Even still, you harbored feelings for him, and him you. Despite the hurricane of emotions and thoughts swirling inside your head, a small, nagging voice coming from the darkest dephts of your mind, kept quietly chanting "What have you done, Y/N?"
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gguk-n · 1 month ago
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Chapter 1- The Arrangement
Arranged For Love (Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader)
Series Masterlist
Summary- Everything seemed to be going well for Y/N until it doesn't. Will this life altering event bring her closer to her family. Will this life altering event introduce her to Carlos?
The reader is Y/N, other than that everyone has a name
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Y/N was majoring in Business; just like her grandma, Anika Baker had wanted. "You're smart, you're rational and the best of all you're kind" she would tell her grand daughter growing up. That's why she was currently studying to maybe take over her family business when she grew up.
She grew up in a matriarchy, where after the untimely death of her grandfather; her grandmother took the lead and brought the company to where it is now. Eventually, she did step back and let her son, Ivan and daughter-in-law, Rose Aguirre handle it. That was when Y/N was born. The first born of their family, she was so pampered; she got whatever she wanted. She had her dad wrapped around her little pudgy finger.
So, when her parents were away, their grandmother raised her and her siblings. She fed them, helped them with their homework and best of all, told them stories of kings and dragons. Y/N would sit intently while her grandmother would massage her feet after a tiring day at school or give her a head massage when it ached. Y/N would always love spending time with her, one way or another.
Y/N was off too college as soon as she turned 18. She finally got to be back home after 2 years for longer than a few weeks; the reason wasn't something to be happy about since a virus had spread across the world and was killing people at an alarming rate. Which meant school, colleges, offices had all shut down and were working from home. When she hugged her grandma for the first time in 6 months; "You've gotten thinner since the last time I saw you" she squinted her eyes at her grandma. "You know how it is with age, I don't have the appetite anymore" her grandmother reasoned. "Well, you should still eat. I'm gonna make sure you gain weight before I leave" Y/N said determined. "Sure, sweetheart" she laughed. "Let's have food. It's nice to have everyone back home, together for once" she emphasised. Y/N held her grandmother's hand as they walked to the dining table for lunch.
A month or so after she was back, her grandmother had started feeling ill. She wouldn't be able to hold down any food and she had been complaining of a stomach ache. With COVID restrictions, getting an appointment was extremely difficult. After a week or so, thankfully, her dad was now at the doctor's office with his mother. The kids were at home, dotting it down to the regular stomach flu which was taking longer than usual to clear.
What came as a surprise to the family, after a couple tests was that, the matriarch of the house was suffering from stomach cancer. Couple more tests later, and it said that it had advanced quite a bit having spread all over the body. The doctors weren't sure what they could do other than ease her pain. Everyone was crying in their rooms while trying to hold a tough facade in front of Anika, so as to not worry her.
At breakfast, a few days after the diagnosis. "You lot are all cry babies. It's just cancer. I'll get the treatment and be well" Anika smiled. Everyone hoped what she was saying was true. But as the treatments started; things started to get worse for her. The medicines were taking a toll on her. Their once active grandmother was reduced to bathroom runs and staying put in her bed. She barely had the energy to eat on her own.
The matriarch's children were sad and couldn't help but cry since they couldn't do much for their mother other than watch. The grandkids would think of ways to make food exciting for their grandmother. The whole family had come together. They were all living together to care for their ailing mother. "I like this very much" Anika told Y/N. "What do you like, grandma?" she asked. "Having all my children here, fretting over me" she said looking at her 2 children fondly. Y/N smiled, "They always fret over you, for as long as I can remember" she replied. "Hmm...but this feel different...it feels nice" she hummed.
They had a scare a few months later; Anika's health had deteriorated suddenly and needed hospitalisation. When she was admitted in the hospital; everyone went to visit her in turns. "I wish I got to see at least one of my grandkids get married" she said barely above a whisper. She beckoned Y/N forward, "Darling, you're the oldest. You're the smartest. You always listen to your grandma don't you" she cooed. "Grandma, I don't like where this is going." she mumbled. "I know it is too much to ask for but why don't you get married. I'll find you a nice man" she reasoned. "Grandma, no. I'm only 20. I'm not getting married, not yet anyways." she whined. "ugh! I love you grandma, I really do but I don't have any plans of getting married, yet" she said pulling away from her grandma. "I'm going home. I hope you get well soon" she stormed off.
Y/N was fuming, she got that her grandma was sick and wanted to see major milestones in her grandkids lives and she wanted to share her happiness with her too but that doesn't mean she will throw her own granddaughter under the bus. She hated the fact that it was always her who would have to do as the elders told her to. Why couldn't it be her siblings or her cousins for once? Why did she have to get a married now? She has so much she wants to achieve, she can't be tied down just yet. People her age barely even remembered the name of the person they last slept with and she should get married; her grandma had gone crazy, she thought.
While Y/N was losing her mind because her grandma wanted her married; Carlos Sainz Junior was losing his mind since he got a contract with Ferrari next year.
In the world of Formula One, there was a change in tide. Sebastian Vettel would no longer be driving for Ferrari in the upcoming season; instead he was being replaced with an up and coming driving Carlos Sainz who was currently driving for McLaren. COVID had put a damper on things; but nothing could contain Carlos's excitement. He would be driving in red next year, something almost every driver had dreamt of when they dreamt of Formula One.
Carlos was your typical Formula One driver, he asked his father for guidance since he was a Rally Champion and looked up to some great drivers as inspiration. He had big plans; plan of winning his first race, plans of winning a championship title, plans of racing until he was 60 but none of those plans involved getting married any time soon. He couldn't imagine himself settling down, just yet even though his sister was planning on getting married herself. He had a long way to go; the biggest obstacle, he wasn't dating anyone as of yet so obviously marriage was off the table for the foreseeable future.
Now, there's a saying, sickness brings the lost together. That's exactly what had happened. Carlos senior had grown up with a family, albeit only for a few years of his childhood but those were formative years and he had spent a lot of his time with the Kastner family. They were his neighbours and even after they had moved away, they had still stayed in touch. He wouldn't forget their kindness and hospitality. For the few years that they were around he was incharge of making sure the oldest of the Kastner family, Ivan got to and back from school safely.
When Carlos senior found out about the ailing health of Mrs Kastner who would make him delicious food and baby sat them when necessary, he flew in as soon as he could with his family in tow. COVID didn't make it easy to visit the sick but Carlos senior would be damned if he didn't meet or introduce his kids to the woman he talked about. Carlos senior greeted Ivan, "You've aged" he laughed patting his back. "As if you haven't" he clapped back. The two happy to see each other after a very long time apart. "I heard Aunt Anika is sick" Carlos senior spoke. "News travels fast" Ivan chuckled. "Not fast enough since she's been sick for a while and I only found out after she was admitted" Carlos senior pointed out. "Yes, yes, she'll be discharged soon. She's been doing so much better for the past few days" Ivan explained. "That's good to know" Carlos senior sighed. "Can we meet her?" he asked hopeful. "I think she'll be over the moon when she find out you've come. She kept up with all your races" Ivan added. "I'm glad she did. I think it was the combined prayers of my mother and yours that I'm still alive after being this reckless" Carlos senior laughed. "That I will not disagree with" Ivan smiled opening the door to the hospital room where Anika was reading the day's paper. She placed the paper down to see who it was and a smile broke out on her face; "Carlos, darling, how've been? I've missed you" she spoke trying to get up but Carlos senior was already by her side, "Don't get up. I'm right here" he leaned down and hugged her. "I've missed you too." he whispered. She patted his back, "I see you've done well for yourself" she said scanning the faces of the 4 people behind him. He pulled away and introduced his wife and 3 kids to her. "Did he get into rallying just like his father?" she asked shaking Carlos junior's hand. "Worse, he's in Formula One" Carlos senior smiled. "Darling, stay safe. I might have to start praying for one more now" she shook her head. "This is the woman who was best friend's with your grandmother and they love each other too much" Carlos senior announced to his kids. "What team does he race for?" Anika asked Carlos senior drawing his attention. "I'm racing for McLaren now, but I'll be racing for Ferrari next year" Carlos junior replied. "congratulations dear. And Carlos, a bit narcissistic I think to name your kid after you" she laughed.
The atmosphere was lively and bright, everyone was busy catching up with each other and trying to let each other know what was going on with the other.
In all of this, the gears in Anika's head were spinning. If Carlos's son, Carlos was single he would be the right fit for her grand daughter. She had always adored and dotted on Carlos senior growing up, so it would only make sense that she would want a good family to take care of her grand daughter. If there's anything to go by how Carlos senior turned out, Carlos junior would fit right in with their family. She felt giddy thinking about the possibility of merging their two families. She knew if everything went well, they could easily be getting married at the end of the year or the beginning of the next. She just wanted what was good for her grand daughter, having something nice come out of it like a handsome and rich husband was a bonus.
The Sainz would be staying in town for a few days before they would be leaving. Anika had invited them over for dinner once she would be discharged since she couldn't send them away without feeding them herself. It was a day before her discharge and she was sat with both Ivan and Carlos. "Since the two of you are here, there's a proposition I would like to make" she said. The two men sat up straight waiting for Anika to continue. "I might not live long" she began but was cut off by mutual 'nos and you'll live a long life' before she shushed them. "Let's listen to the doctors and I know they are trying their best but we have to be realistic too. If I do live long, I'll get to watch the happiness unfold if don't then I'll at least be a part of some of it." she explained. The two men were very confused with where she was trying to go. "I want to make a proposition like I said, I think it would be great if Carlos's son, Carlos married Ivan's daughter, Y/N. I've always wanted to watch my grand kids get married, this way I can die happy" she finished. Their mouths opened and closed a few times before Carlos spoke, "Aren't they still too young?" he asked. "It's just a suggestion, it's up to you two and them to decided if they'll go through with it. Would I be happy if they got married? Obviously but at the end of the day it'll all up to the kids. I just want what's best for them" Anika said. The two men were thinking. They were stuck. "You two can think about it, maybe we can introduce them to each other at the dinner tomorrow" Anika said hopeful. This was going to be difficult conversation to have for both Carlos and Ivan, they thought.
Taglist- @herexpertcollector @redrevvedup @chaostudee @larastark3107 @jovialpainterunknown @vip-access @sugarvibez @champomiel @inarabee @virazeeee @seonghwaexile @champ15ns @ajthefujoshi @musicheaux @npcmia @marvel-ous-miss-maisie @mochipatch @gleeblegnarp @formula1-motogpfan @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs
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sturnioloskyline · 9 months ago
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flu season
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pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader
warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)
summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands
being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.
she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.
not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.
matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.
finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.
“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.
“y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.
“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.
“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”
matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.
after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.
inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.
the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.
“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.
“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”
“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.
y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.
“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.
she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.
“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”
“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”
“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.
“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.
“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”
y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”
“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.
“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.
author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE
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obxsummer · 1 month ago
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messy // john b routledge
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request: Would love to do a request if your taking? You know the bonfire scene where John b and Sarah were broken up and she came with topper and saw John b with another girl and a fight ended up happening where the girl pushed Sarah and John b was yelling crying for her name can we do that with y/n and John b but instead of the fight with him and topper we do a fight with y/n and the girl John b was with and the girl ends up pushing y/n which has John b going crazy and in protective mode and y/n got really hurt by that push from that small clif
pairing: john b routledge x cameron!reader (she/her)
warnings: the usual obx angst and violence, ooc rafe cameron (BRING ME PROTECTIVE RAFE WOOO), injuries
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--
Boneyard Bonfires are well known in the OBX but not for the reasons they should be. More often than not (a couple years in a row now), fights and arguments broke out between the two halves of the island which usually caused the hangout to end early.
You definitely weren’t planning on attending considering things between you and John B were rough right now. Still reeling from the previous events of the week, you just wanted some space to comprehend the loss your family was facing right now. You didn’t mean to make him upset or to put a wrench in your relationship, but John B was less than happy when you told him you were heading back to Tannyhill to find comfort in your brother and sisters.  
The news of Ward’s death traveled fast, but it felt like everything had stood still for your family. Despite being adopted before you could even remember, Ward and Rose had raised you, and your heart was still broken even after all of the horrible things he’d done to you and your friends. It wasn’t fair to have so many mixed emotions and still push yourself to be around John B when he was busy celebrating a loss that hit you hard.
“You okay?” The soft tone of concern in Rafe’s voice was surprising as you glanced over your shoulder where he was approaching. You were standing out by the dock, eyes on the slow-moving water. The same dock that had been full of cops and your friends only a few days ago.
“Fine,” You mumbled. He pulled you close, arms warm as he held you to his chest like it would protect you from the cruel reality. Rafe completely shut down when the yacht exploded, like all anger had left his body and was replaced with sorrow and fear of the unknown. For so long, Ward had fixed everything for him, and Rafe had been hit with the hard truth that it would no longer happen. Like a flipped switch, he went from an irresponsible party kid to a protective older brother. The one you remembered most growing up, the version you’d missed for so long.
“Did you talk to John B?”
You shook your head slightly. “No, not since yesterday.”
Rafe had tried to stop you from going to find John B yesterday, begging you not to leave him. You hadn’t seen raw emotion out of your brother like that in so long that it scared you, so you let Rafe drive you to your boyfriend’s house to have the honest conversation that needed to happen.
“Hey,” You whispered quietly as you walked down the dock to where John B was sitting.
“Hey.” John B looked up and stood from his seat to join you on the floor of the dock closer to the water.
You sniffled, tugging your knees to your chest as you wrapped your arms around them. Every nerve of your body screamed to run and hide from this nightmare, wishing it would just disappear from view and spare the pain.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” John B’s fingers were warm as the rested on your knee, his other hand gently grabbing your cheek to brush away tears, a small gasp leaving your lips at the action. You’d cried so, so much in these past few hours that it was surprising to have tears left. 
“Were you happy?” You asked quietly, watching his face to tell a reaction. “Because you looked happy.”
John B hesitated in his response, “Babe, he killed my dad.”
You licked your lips and tucked them in, giving a small nod of understanding. It was hard to come to terms that John B felt this was an even trade-off, a life for a life. But he wasn’t wrong, and that made it worse.
“I just think too much has happened,” You admitted honestly, sniffling against your sleeve. “I just thought of all people…you would understand what it was like losing a dad. And I needed you, John B. A-and maybe everyone was right, maybe this is too complicated.”
The two of you received so much backlash when you got together, from friends and family, that it almost broke you. John B reassured you more than once that he didn’t care what they had to say, that the two of you cared about each other and that was the most important thing. But sitting here, with him, you began to wonder if it would be enough.
“It’s not, it’s not too complicated,” He tried to reason, the puzzle fitting into place as he realized what you might be implying. “Please don’t leave. I’ll figure it out, I promise.”
You shook your head and faced him with teary eyes, letting yourself be so vulnerable with the boy you’d trusted your life and heart to. “I love you, JB. But I think I need some time to… to figure this out. I shouldn’t have come here.”
Standing up, you pressed your palms into your eyes to stop the flood of tears in order to see your footsteps as you walked away.
“Hey, hey. Wait,” John B was quickly behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders tightly as he held you. Your breath was shaky as you grabbed onto him and tucked your cheek against his skin, soaking up every second of it that you could. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just talk to me.”
“Just… just give me some time, okay?” You asked quietly, tucking your hand into his like it was your lifeline. “I’ll be back, promise. I just… I gotta figure this out.”
John B pressed a kiss to your head, turning your form so he could hug you properly as you sobbed. He never meant to cause so much harm, despite the fact that he was glad Ward was gone after all he had done. John B almost forgot you lost a dad in the mix, so caught up in the idea of revenge.
The sound of your name being called broke your moment with John B, both of you turning to see Rafe standing in the grass at the end of the dock. You could feel the muscles in John B’s back tense at the sight, but you knew your brother wasn’t here to fight. Rafe wasn’t here to play Kook King, he was in older brother mode. He was here for you.
“I’ve gotta go,” You whispered to John B, pulling yourself from his embrace to press a kiss to his cheek. You turned away and began the walk toward your brother, each step creating a crack in the foundation of your relationship. It felt like the worst thing to do at the moment, but you had to take time to fix this. For you, for John B. For everyone. 
--
After three days of hiding in your room with Sarah, you gave up on the idea of rotting away. It was more harmful than good, anyway. It had taken some convincing from your friends and each other, but you, Rafe, and Sarah decided to go to the bonfire, hoping it would bring some normalcy and energy back to the three of you. Today had been better than the others, too, so it wouldn’t hurt to venture out for a little bit. 
The scene was already busy when you got there, cheers and music coming from every area while people mingled and partied away. You walked in with Sarah, having already lost Rafe to Topper and his usual group of rowdy friends. 
“Here,” Your sister handed over a seltzer she’d brought along, the two of you pregaming a bit to take the edge off and help shake the anxiety. 
You thanked her, popping the tab and taking a sip as you unconsciously scanned the crowd for the familiar faces you’d come to love. Kiara and Pope were found first, the duo sitting by the fire and conversing with drinks in hand. JJ came next, the blond busying himself with a shotgun alongside some girl you recognized from previous parties. 
And then, there was John B. Your John B who begged you not to leave, promising to fix things, was up close and personal with a girl. A girl who wasn’t you.
“Oh, I’ll fucking kill him.”
You barely had enough time to grab Rafe’s shirt sleeve, your older brother seemingly catching sight of the issue as you did. You weren’t sure when he had ditched Topper and whatever blonde hookup he wanted tonight, but he had, and now he was pissed.
“It’s fine,” You reassured and took a sip of your drink, not yet letting go of his flannel as you tried to act like you were unbothered. “Leave it. For now.”
“He’s still a Pogue,” Rafe reminded you, eyes flaring with the need to teach John B a lesson. 
You nodded and let your grip fall. “Rafe, I’ve got it. I’ll handle it, and if things go south, then you can punch him.”
Rafe sent the sharpest glare toward John B, which went unnoticed before he returned to his friends with a handful of beers. Sarah rolled her eyes at his aggressive change but didn’t say anything, the two of you clinking your cans together before taking another sip.
One drink turned into too many, but you were so carefree and light that you didn’t care. Kie and Pope had come to join you at one point, the four of you a little too buzzed or high to acknowledge the tension with other members of the group. Sarah was leaning on your shoulder, looking the happiest she had since everything went down and you were glad to see it. Your siblings meant the world to you and now, they were all you had left.
“I’m getting another drink,” You announced louder than needed as you stood up from your friends and made your way toward the drink area without another word. To your luck (or unconscious movement), you managed to find John B near the bonfire, his attention still on the dark-haired girl you’d noticed earlier.  The alcohol-based confidence pushed you to approach him, despite the warning in your head telling you it wouldn’t end well.
“John B, hi.” You gave him a sickly-sweet smile and titled your head toward the girl, who you recognized as Jasmine from the coffee shop up the road. “Wanna introduce me to your friend?”
No introduction was needed but John B definitely did not anticipate seeing you here, and his eyes went wide at your presence. Sarah was suddenly next to you as the boy attempted to find a response, “Look it’s not-”
“We should go,” Sarah tried to reason with you, knowing damn well you weren’t in the right headspace to have this conversation right now.
Jasmine nodded in agreement. “Good idea, you should listen to your sister.”
“Did I ask you?” You smiled at her, letting the heavy anger seep into your tone as you addressed her. 
“You don’t own everything, princess. Why don’t you go run on home and-“
“Why are you still talking?”
Sarah began mouthing off with the girl, giving you a chance to turn your attention to a very quiet John B. “She’s a real gem. Glad to know you’re working real hard on figuring us out.”
John B’s face hardened at your words as a crowd starting to gather around you. “You’re the one who said you needed time. Guess three days was enough?”
You shook your head, begging your eyes to stop burning with tears that threatened to form. “Did I mean anything to you, John B?”
The question seemed to strike him hard but he didn’t have time to react before Rafe was in between the two of you, eyes looking to kill. “Back the fuck up, John B. You’ve done enough damage to our family this week, maybe try to take a break.”
The first punch was thrown fast, but the following ones came even faster. JJ and Pope were suddenly in the mix, Topper and Kelce coming to back up your brother as the typical Kook vs Pogue war started again.
“Are you happy now?” Jasmine hissed at you, a snarky smile on her face as she watched you yell for the boys to stop.
You glared at her, tears of frustration filling your eyes. “Shut the fuck up, you bitch. Maybe keep your hands to yourself and off my boyfriend next time.”
She pounced instantly, her hands shoving your shoulders and throwing you backward off the brick wall you’d been hiding on. The pain was instantaneous, a sharp twinge up your back from landing on your tailbone and scraped skin beginning to bleed, but the heat on your arm told you the push had been a little more than aggressive.
You screamed out, rolling away from where you had connected with the bonfire. You could hear John B yelling out for you, your name was being shouted in different directions and there were suddenly so many hands reaching for you. You pushed yourself off the ground, crying in pain at the movement, but you weren’t concerned about yourself. The rage in Rafe’s eyes told you that someone needed to intervene, and it needed to happen now.
“Stop, stop!” Your voice was weak as you reached out for your brother, trying to catch his fist before he landed another punch to John B’s already bruised face. “Rafe, please!”
The pain in your voice stopped him short, both boys instantly turning to you with concern and worry. It took them only a few seconds to clock the burn on your arm, and even though you hadn’t noticed the sway to your stance, they surely did. 
Rafe dropped his grip on John B’s shirt instantly, his hands reaching out to try and assess the wound on your arm before he forced himself to focus. “Hospital, now. We’re going.”
“We don’t have the car,” Sarah pointed out as she pulled off her lightweight coverup and pressed it against your head where the pain was starting to pulse. A small whimper left your mouth, and suddenly, you were against someone’s chest within seconds.
“Move!” John B’s voice was unmistakable even though your hearing was slowly becoming a dull ring. Everything passed in a blur from there. The chaos of the fight faded away and the orange tint from the fire disappeared as the group moved away. You could barely make out Sarah and Rafe’s voices, your siblings arguing over what to do and where to go.
“I’m not getting in a car with them!”
Worn leather could be felt under your legs, the familiar stickered ceiling of the Twinkie coming into view. You groaned at the movement, your head feeling heavier with each second. You blinked, barely having the energy to look over to see John B staring back at you, his bruised face filled with concern as he held you tightly against him. 
“No no, stay with me.” John B’s fingers lightly tapped your cheeks to call your attention as you blinked slowly up at him. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Sarah, drive!”
You could hear your sister shout back that she was trying. 
“I’ve got it,” Rafe’s voice followed her frustration before the car started moving beneath you and everything slowly turned to black.
--
You hated the smell of hospitals, but you hated waking up in them even more. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the dim lighting and when it did, you made out Sarah’s figure curled up on the spare bed in the room, her hair haphazardly strewn across her face. To your surprise, Rafe was slumped on the couch, his long legs barely hanging on as he lay across the piece of furniture, snoring softly. Which left one option as the person curled up in your side, the unruly dark curls giving away the answer.
“Hi,” John B’s voice was quiet in an attempt to allow your siblings to sleep. His green eyes met yours, sleep evident in the glassy haze they held. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Didn’t mean to wake you,” You whispered back, shifting carefully with the IV in your arm to cuddle into his side.
“Couldn’t sleep,” He admitted as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your jean shorts to brush against your hipbone. “Feel okay?”
You hummed in response. “What’d they say?”
“Concussion, second-degree on your arm, and a superficial blow to the head, my crazy girl.”
You chuckled, gripping his t-shirt between your fingers to pull him into you, “Gotta keep you on your toes, yeah?”
John B huffed a laugh and pulled your hand from his shirt to hold within his own. A few moments of peaceful quiet filled the room as you listened to his heartbeat in your ears, letting the steady sound calm your racing thoughts.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked quietly, fearing the answer he had to give. Your anxiety had gotten the best of you over the last few days and you’d been questioning whether a break from John B was actually the right thing to do.
“God, baby, how could you even think that?” John B shifted to lean on his elbow and look at you. There was a pretty gnarly bandage on your head where you’d hit the concrete on your way down. All John B could think about was how this was all his fault. He’d let you get hurt, let you down in every way possible, and here you were, scared he was mad at you. “All of this is my fault. If anything, you should be pissed at me.”
You opened your mouth to argue with him but stopped short. Yeah, your feelings had been hurt, but you knew if the roles were reversed and your actions landed John B in the hospital, you would never forgive yourself. 
“I’m sorry, about everything. You’re right, I was so caught up in revenge that I missed out on being there for you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. You needed me, and I wasn’t there, and I’m so sorry.”
You moved your uninjured arm to hold the back of his neck, pulling him in slowly for a kiss. John B hummed in content, his fingers wrapping around your waist as he leaned in again, pinning you against the mattress to kiss you again and again and again. 
“I forgive you,” You said softly when he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath. “I’ll always forgive you.”
“This is cute and all, but can you guys shut up and quit making out?” You looked over to see Sarah glare tiredly before she flipped you off and rolled over on her other side to face away from you.
You and John B shared a quiet laugh and a handful of kisses before cuddling up on the tiny hospital bed in each other’s arms, preparing to face Rafe’s anger in the morning but moving forward together, one step at a time.
--
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cxrrodedcoffin · 1 month ago
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❄︎ 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐥 ❄︎
Kinktober fic 4: Eddie Munson ❄︎ Ice Play + Restraints
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𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!eddie, sir kink, ice/water used in a sexual context, temperature play, restraints, blindfolding, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (angel, babydoll), praise, pussy slapping, fem + afab reader, alcohol mention, slight crying but not really dacryphilia
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k
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Hawkins in October was usually the picture of a perfect autumn town, technicolor trees in striking fall shades lining the streets under gloomy gray-blue skies, but this year had been unceremoniously hot, and you were starting to feel like you’d somehow been transported to hell in Eddie’s tin can trailer.
You woke up from your short nap to find the sheets bunched up at the end of the bed, your body covered in a thin layer of sweat as the heat hit you. You rose to your feet, walking to the kitchen before grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip, the bottle cold in your hand as the cool water slid down your throat.
You sighed, dissatisfied with the heat as you walked towards the living room looking for Eddie, curious as to what he had been up to while you were asleep. He laid lazily across the couch, barely covered by a pair of plaid boxers and a loose black cut off tank he’d fashioned out of an old Dio tee shirt. He laid on his back, his legs spread slightly as he leaned against the arm of the couch, his skin covered in a light layer of sweat under the sunlight gleaming through the windows.
"Hey Edds." You sighed, bringing his attention away from whatever cheesy b-horror movie he’d popped into the vcr.
"How was your nap, babydoll?" He asked, flashing you a smile while setting the cold can of beer in his hand on the end table.
"Good, but I could’ve done without the heat." You answered, walking closer to him.
"Yeah, if it wasn’t for the neighbors I'd probably be walking around the house fuckin’ nude right now." He laughed, sitting up.
"I wouldn't mind that." You sat on the empty cushion next to him, warm blush gently rising over your cheeks.
"I'm sure you wouldn't." He laughed, canines peeking out from beneath his top lip as he smiled at you. He couldn't keep his eyes off of your body and before long he leaned into you, his hands on your hips as his lips met yours.
You threw your leg over his lap, straddling him before resting your arms over his shoulders, hand running lazily through his long dark hair.
The heat growing between you came to be too much, causing you to pull back slightly and sigh against his lips.
"God, it's too hot for this." You said, disappointed as you plopped back down on the couch, pouting.
He paused, thinking for a second before an idea presumably came to mind.
“I want to try something.” His words rang in your ears and your interest peaked, prompting you to follow him down the hall.
You turned the corner to the bedroom and he motioned toward his bed, hinting for you to lay down. You did as he silently asked, stripping yourself of your shorts and tank before laying down on the bed. He moved to the dresser, pulling out leather restraints from the drawer you kept your sex toys in.
You instinctively spread your legs and placed your hands above your head, eager to see where he was taking this. He secured your arms and legs to the bedposts, leaving you fully exposed for him before exiting the room. You waited patiently, wondering why he had left, a million thoughts running through your mind. Eddie could be mean, a bit more of a tease than you preferred occasionally, but he’d never left you tied up high and dry before.
When he returned, he held a bowl in hand, that familiar mischievous grin on his face, silently taunting you. You raised a brow at him, craning your neck to see what was in the bowl.
Ice water.
You gulped, watching the ice cubes float aimlessly in the water before looking back to him, unsure if you could handle the harsh cold against your most sensitive areas.
“Your pretty little cunt was getting too hot, gotta cool you down.” He set the bowl down beside your already trembling leg before landing a small slap against your inner thigh, enjoying the way your leg jolted underneath his touch.
He brought his hand to your cunt, middle finger prodding at your folds before withdrawing his touch and dipping his finger into the bowl. He swirled it around for a moment before bringing it to your clit, the cold contrast making you yelp.
“Just relax, angel.” He cooed, voice condescendingly sweet.
He brushed over your clit again, making your hips shift away as far as you could. He traced over your folds, applying a soft pressure as he went until he reached your dripping entrance.
He pulled away again, dipping his finger once more into the cool water before returning, experimentally pushing the long digit inside of you. The action drew a strained whimper from your throat, your walls instinctively clenching around him at the cold. He hummed in satisfaction, curling his finger up into that soft spot inside of you, your hips bucking softly against him in search of more stimulation.
“Not yet.” He chided, pulling his finger from you and giving your aching clit a harsh slap. You whimpered at the loss before crying out from the sharp contact, relaxing into the bed as you waited for his next move. He picked up a small cube, the edge of it more rounded from the time it had been floating, slowly degrading until it become one with the rest of the water. His hand hovered slowly up over your stomach, letting the ice drop teardrops of freezing water onto your hot skin until he’d reached your chest, your breasts glistening with sweat from the heat.
“Gotta make sure I cool all of your sensitive areas first babydoll.” He looked up at you through hooded yet concentrated eyes, determination in his stare. He wanted to break you, make you so sensitive you’d lose all sense of self preservation and beg him to fuck you in this heat, and he sure as hell was going to make that happen. He brought the melting ice to your left nipple, the bud instantly stiffening underneath the cold, your back arching up into his touch. Your moans were tired, the heat draining you, but you couldn’t stop yourself, your need for pleasure helping you push through the discomfort caused by the weather.
He circled your sensitive peaks, alternating between breasts until they were both covered in the cold runoff from the quickly disintegrating ice cube, your nipples peaked and sensitive to just the exposure to the air after the overstimulation he provided. You were practically panting, your mind slipping further and further away as he continued to tease, prolonging your delicious torture.
He brought his hand to hover above the bowl of ice water, fully submerging his thumb, pointer, and middle fingers before removing them and allowing the excess liquid to drip back into the bowl.
He used his free hand to spread your folds, giving him direct access as he pressed his ice cold fingers into you, his thumb meeting your clit as you let out the most pathetic mewl, the shock of the cold sending a wave of warmth through you.
The rough pad of his thumb ghosting over your aching bud was almost too much, barely any friction at all and yet you felt like every nerve ending in your body was on fire. He moved his thumb slowly up and down as one would when painting, each stroke making you clench around his fingers, the coolness only making the warmth inside of you grow.
The only relief you got was each short-lived break he took to refresh the icy water on his fingers, and each moment was met with a bittersweet end as your fading sensitivity immediately peaked again at the chill.
He glanced up at you, noticing the way you stared down at him. Something flickered in his eye and he abruptly stopped, standing from his place and going back to the drawer. He pulled out a strip of satin before making his way back to you, resting his knee on the bed before leaning over, bringing the fabric to cover your eyes.
“You’re too distracted doll, I need you to be completely relaxed for me.” He explained, securing the silk behind your head. You nodded, laying your head back onto the pillow when you felt him move to the end of the bed. You were practically buzzing with anticipation, every inch of your body on fire as you waited for him to touch you again.
“I need to get more ice, I'll be back soon. I need you to be good for me while I’m gone.” with that he placed what was presumably the last chunk of ice on your skin just above your clit.
“Stay still until that has fully melted. If you move, the ice will fall and I will know, and I'll have to punish you. Understood?” His tone had dipped, something dark, almost truly threatening lacing his words
“Yes sir.” You whimpered, anchoring your hips against the bed to prevent yourself from moving as much as possible.
“That’s my girl.” He laughed, kissing your knee before the sound of his bare feet padding against the old carpet filled the room.
As the ice melted the cold liquid slipped down over your clit before seeping through your folds, intertwining itself with the warmth of your arousal. The stimulation was overwhelming and you found it increasingly difficult to stay still, feeling your thigh twitch and not a moment later your hips following, a tear slipping down your cheek as you felt the ice slide off of your body.
After a short while you heard his footsteps draw near, and you couldn’t hold back the tears threatening your waterline any longer. The disapproving sigh that left him when he stepped into the room made your lip quiver before a quiet sob escaped you, tears starting to soak the blindfold over your eyes.
“I’m sorry, sir.” You cried, burying the side of your face into the pillow.
“I couldn’t control it, I didn’t mean to disappoint you.” You continued, muscles tensing.
His hand met your cheek, thumb rubbing softly over your damp skin. He pushed the blindfold up to your forehead, allowing you to finally look at him.
“You could never disappoint me, angel.” He whispered, smiling reassuringly at you. You sniffled, biting the inside of your lower lip. He placed a kiss on the tip of your nose, wiping away your tears before looking into your eyes again.
“But I still have to punish you, babydoll.” He said, brushing your hair away from your face. You nodded, smiling to assure him you were okay. He pulled the blindfold back over your eyes before moving back between your legs, anticipation setting back in.
He brought his hand to your core, gathering your arousal on his fingers before pushing two of them inside, the friction causing a moan to flutter up from your chest. He pumped them slowly in and out for a moment before removing them and bringing them to your clit, rubbing soft circles against your swollen bundle of nerves.
You gasped as he eased one of the ice cubes into your cunt without warning, causing your walls to clench frantically around it. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before, each clench of your walls earning a bit of friction, in contrast with the cold heightening your sensitivity to an almost painful level.
He withdrew his fingers, letting you anticipate his next move before bringing another harsh slap against your clit. You cried out, hips bucking away from him, only to receive another hit, his free hand finding your hip, holding you still.
“You need to learn how to stay still, angel. You don’t want to upset me, do you?” He questioned, laying another hit against your sensitive cunt.
“No, sir.” You whimpered, focusing on staying still for him.
He laid a few more hits against you, each one prompting the ice inside of you to shift, the melting liquid dripping onto the sheets as it slid from you.
“Have you learned your lesson?” He taunted, thumb rubbing against the apex of your thigh. You nodded eagerly, desperate to earn his affection once again.
“I don’t think so, give me a proper answer.” He corrected, laying one last hit against you.
“Yes!” You cried out in exhaustion, your thighs tensing as the ice water settled into the contours of your cunt. His lips met your thigh and you sighed, reveling in the soft sucks and kisses he gave you in a momentary show of affection.
“Now let's get back to beating the heat.” He quipped, that dorky smile plastered across his stubbled face.
His words sent a shiver down your spine and as he brought his thumb back to your clit you moaned, each cold stroke against you that much more intense from the newly perfect amount of pressure his digit applied to your sensitive bundle of nerves, turning you into a panting, moaning mess.
You knew how needy you sounded but you didn’t care as he brought his tongue down to your slit, pushing swiftly inside of you, lapping at the melting ice within. He moaned against your heat, sending vibrations through your core and you felt that familiar pressure begin to build in the pit of your stomach.
When you started to contract around him he withdrew his tongue and you groaned, upset that he’d denied you the orgasm you’d been searching for all this time.
“Be patient angel, or I won’t let you cum on my cock.” He said, and you heard the rustling of fabric, alerting you that he was finally moving to match your state of undress. You perked up at his words, waiting patiently for his next move.
He removed the blindfold before undoing the restraints on your wrists, thumb rubbing soothingly over the red marks they left on your skin. He positioned himself between your legs, hard cock resting against your thigh.
“Is it still too hot? Or do you want me to fuck you?” He taunted, wrapping his fist around his cock and pumping a few times, knowing how much watching him touch himself turned you on.
“Fuck me, please.” You whimpered, blush creeping onto your cheeks at how brazen all of this had made you.
“Whatever you want, babydoll.” He said, planting a kiss on your forehead as he positioned himself at your slick entrance. With one swift thrust he was seated fully inside of you, moans falling from both of your lips at the friction and lingering chill from the now-melted ice.
He fucked quickly into you, skin slapping skin hard enough to bruise and you felt that familiar spring coil inside of you again, all the teasing and edging leaving you beyond eager and desperate to finally find your release. You looked up at him, bringing your arms over his shoulders to pull him down to you, lips brushing with each deep thrust of his hips.
“I wanna cum sir, please-ah!, please let me cum.” You whined, interrupted by soft gasps earned by his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of you.
“I’m almost there, angel. Just hold on a little longer.” He moaned, brow furrowed in concentration. He thrust faster into you, groaning as you scraped your fingers up his back, trying desperately to ignore the fire burning in your core to hold on for him.
“Eddie, please!” You cried, clawing at his skin as you waited for his approval.
“Go on, angel. Let me feel you cum around my cock.” He moaned, angling his hips up to slam into that soft spot inside of you, giving you that final push you needed to let the pleasure take over you, vision blurring as he swallowed your cries in an openmouthed kiss, nails digging into his back.
He came just moments later, spilling deep inside of you with a groan against your plush lips. He pulled out, brushing your hair away from your damp forehead before placing a kiss on it, sighing against your glistening skin.
“Such a good girl for me.” He mumbled, panting above you before rolling onto the bed next to you, his hand finding yours to lace your fingers together. Somehow, even in the middle of all this heat, you’d never felt more content.
tagging: @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @eddiesxangel @taintandviolent @littlexdeaths @your-nightmaredoll @hellfire--cult @hellfiremunsonn @doomsdaybby @hippiegoth97 @myherometalhead
please message me if you’d like to be tagged in my future eddie munson fics or would like to be untagged!
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pbnbucks · 3 months ago
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word count : 622
warnings : smut with plot if it counts, cussing
summary : breanna finding one of your hidden sex toys and when you get home she makes you use it in front of her
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your apartment door shuts with a loud click that sets your existence to breanna who was unfortunately left home by herself today who was oddly quiet, as she normally showers you in kisses and hugs when you get home.
“breanna?” you call out wondering where the girl was as you walk into your shared room seeing her laid out on your bed with a familiar object that was resting in her hand as she looked angry “B?” you whine out already knowing her issue as you knew she will make a big deal about the small toy.
“c’mere” she harshly responds patting her lap for you to sit there. “since this toy can do better then what i can do, why don’t you provide me with a show” she whispers in your ear as she already works on removing your leggings.
she turns the rose vibrator onto the highest setting leaving it in your hand as a smirk rests on her face raising an eyebrow waiting for you to place it on your clit leaving you with a pout on your face getting embarrassed.
she moves the hair out of your face as she fixes your position to where your now straddling her hips “so pretty, gonna be gentle baby” she holds you hand in place as she moves your hand placing the vibrator on your dripping clit, letting moans fall softly off your tongue.
your hips grind on to the vibrator as breanna helps hold it at the angle you desire as her free hand roams your body squeezing in the most vulnerable places as your hunger for her grows.
he mouth connects with your neck as she form hickeys marking all over you doing what she called was “claiming her territory” her hand still held the small toy in her hand as yours flung to your breast pinching your sensitive nipples as a smirk firmed on breannas face enjoying her view.
a burning sensation grew in your stomach as your need for release came crashing down any second making your moans grow sloppier
“need to cum” you whine out as breannas pushes it further in to your clit teasingly before painfully pulling away leaving you in shock as she sat there proud
“nope, if you wanna cum your going to have to do it yourself princess” she cools smirking at your cries from the deny of your release.
she places the toy in your hand placing a kiss on your cheek pulling away waiting for you to please yourself. your place the rose toy back on your clit running it back and forth grinding on to it along with breannas hips.
“so fuckin pretty” breanna groans as she runs her large hands up the side of your thighs. “feels so good mommy” you sob out as tears stain your cheeks as you continue to grind down on the object as the familiar knot forms again.
“i bet it does, cmon go faster pretty girl” she coos licking a stripe from your collar bone up to your chin.
you follow her demand speeding up your actions as your wrists flick back and forth as your stomach churns.
“mommy, gonna cum” you cry out as she kisses your nipple telling you to let go of your orgasm. screams fill the room as your liquids come crashing down as you ride out your high, you remove the vibrator resting your body on breanna as your head lays on her shoulder
“does it feel as good as me?” she teases “or does mommys dick do it better” she lifts your head up to look at her. “you do it better mommy” you say as she presses a a kiss to your swollen lips “good”
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queenlucythevaliant · 4 months ago
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have you ever heard it? can you remember?
i. The gulls were crying. The gulls were always crying, in her memory. Whatever far off places Susan travelled after her family was gone, she always came back to the sea.
ii. The beach at Cair Paravel was the first place in Narnia where she really felt at home. She'd wade into the water with her eyes shut and feel she could be in England, on holiday with her mother and father. She'd open her eyes, and there would be waves cascading endlessly towards her.
iii. Before long, she knew every tidepool, every shoal.
iv. There weren't any bathing suits in Narnia, but no one seemed the least scandalized when Susan took to swimming in her underthings. There wasn't anything else for it, and she had to swim. She just had to.
v. She wasn't the only one of her siblings to love the sea, of course. Edmund loved sand and sailing and reading on the beach, and Peter liked to gaze out at the ocean and think. Lucy spent even more time at the beach than Susan did; she would rise before dawn and sit on the rocks as the sun rose over the waves. Susan was never sure whether her little sister was there to greet the sunrise, or to wait for Aslan.
vi. But for Susan, it was sense-memory. Water was water, wherever she was, and it always reminded her of home. She'd go out past the breakers, pull her limbs into a familiar breast stroke, and she'd feel like she was everywhere she loved all at once.
vii. Aslan came, and she was soaking wet to greet him. He laughed, in his lion-ish way, and didn't mind at all when Susan embraced him.
viii. Somehow, Aslan never got drenched from his journeys across the sea, but he was damp as though with mist. The scent of salt and brine clung to him, an overtone to that fierce, wild smell that was his own. Susan breathed in deep, those two scents she loved most in the world.
ix. In England, back at school, she'd go to the swimming pool and imagine she was in Narnia.
x. It wasn't the same, of course. The swimming pool at her school had no crying gulls, no smell of salt, no cascading waves. There was no Aslan coming towards her from the T-line at the other end of the pool. But if she submerged herself completely, Susan could imagine.
xi. She swam with her eyes shut too often, and her coach was growing irritated. It was affecting her times in practice, which would bleed over into competition if she wasn't careful. Somehow, Susan couldn't be bothered to care.
xii. One weekend, she and Lucy snuck away to visit the boys, and they all went down to the lake to reminisce about Narnia. When Lucy and Edmund spoke of their summer sailing the eastern sea, Susan was positively stiff with jealousy. Yet when they all dove into the water in the end, her heart pounded out a rhythm of home, home.
xiii. Six years after her last trip to Narnia, Susan hadn't touched a bow in four years. She still went swimming every week.
xiv. After the railway accident, she went to live by the sea. She missed her family, and she couldn't stand to live in the places they had lived. She wanted to forget.
xv. Susan had missed the salt air. She had missed the waves. There was a feeling of home by the sea that she couldn't quite place; a soothing echo of long ago dreams and fairytales.
xvi. But there were the gulls crying, "Can you remember?" and it broke her heart all over again.
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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago
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can you expand on your idea of bully ! Tsukishima from haikyuu??? please, it sounded delicious uwu
Tsukishima Kei
♡ TW: NSFW, dubcon, exhibitionism, "fingering in public"
♡ fem reader
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Dinkerbell
“Tch- look at you sitting here like a bookworm~” 
His words snuck up on you from behind, making you suck in a gasp where you sat, concentrating in the quiet library with a pen in your notes and your nose in a textbook – shrinking in your seat under the mean glare of the librarian who told you to hush.
“Who’re you tryna fool, huh?” Tsukishima crudely continued in spite of it, gripping the back of your chair while leaning over – his lips brushing the shell of your ear while he whispered. “Everyone knows you’re just a pretty pair of tits on legs- tch, no one expects there to be any actual brains in here.”
You pursed your lips with furrowed brows and rose from your chair, casting a sour look up at him through the slim glasses he looked down at you through – his face soft but with a sly smirk curling his lips.
You didn’t have time to humor him, you thought while gathering your books into your bag – this assignment wouldn’t figure itself out, no matter how hard you wished it would.
“Aw, come on~ you know I'm just joking~” He stopped you – snatching the textbook out from your flimsy grip and lifting it higher than you could reach.
“It's not very funny, Kei.” You sulked. Halfheartedly grabbing after your book, knowing you wouldn’t reach it either way.
“It’s funny to me.” He replied with a cock of his chin. “Besides, it’s not really my fault you make yourself such an easy target.” Smirk spreading while he glibbed, lazily lowering the book again with eyes giving you a patronizing leer. “You need my help, right?”
You bit your lip, shifting between looking up into his knowing eyes and the heavy calculus book weighed in his palm – then the assignment on the desk. Thinking about how long you’d sat there, pulling on your hair and chewing your pen, stuck on the same equation. 
You gave a defeated huff, sitting back down in surrender – and he offered a soft chuckle, pulling up a chair right beside you, opening the book to the right chapter. 
Your pout never dropped as he started tutoring – staring at the formulas he pointed to with worried eyes, twiddling your pen unsurely with a growing storm of hopeless confusion festering in your head.
You felt close to crying when his arm went from resting on the back of your chair to slipping between you, hand brushing your thigh – traveling beneath your skirt slowly, soon with fingers stroking the warm fabric of your panties.
“Kei…” You whined lowly. “Not here…” Begging with bashful eyes fluttering shyly around the library, terrified that anyone would see.
“You seem distracted… Maybe you want me to tutor you in something else, hm?” He ignored you, keeping his hand tucked between your thighs even as you tried closing them – running his long fingers up and down, teasing your slit through the thin cotton, smiling once feeling you get damp. Despite acting all cute and demure, you’re always so easy.
“We’re in the library, Kei...” You protested, keeping your voice hushed – cheeks heating as your breath flared, trying to keep your hips still.
“Yeah? What better place for you to learn something new?” He said playfully, not bothering with lowering his voice like you as his finger hooked around the trail of your panty and pulled it to the side. “You just need to stay quiet. Shouldn't be hard for someone who never has anything worthwhile to say anyway.”
“Tsukki-” You nagged with an insisting whine, rubbing your knees together to keep him away. Embarrassed and nervous and now hot and bothered – you choked on your heart, praying no one else in the quiet library had taken notice of the two of you.
“Spread wider.” He ordered, unbothered by your concerns – making you yelp with a strict pinch to the inside of your thigh when you didn’t obey. He clicked his tongue. “I told you to keep quiet- I'm not going to detention all because your dumb mouth couldn’t figure out how to shut up.”
You only whimpered with another breath, giving in to his wishes – sinking your teeth into your lip while opening your legs with a quickening heartbeat.
“There you go- good dummy~” He praised, now with a finger diving through your wet slit, up between your swelling pussylips to rub against your perky clitty. 
You moaned under your breath, feeling lightheaded and fuzzy and warm. Withholding further sighs and lusty sounds by biting into your lip, making them come out as petty whimpers instead. Thighs quaking where you fought to keep them open despite the burn in your loins telling you to clamp them shut tight to ride the pleasure that soon washed through you.
“You know… it's okay to be stupid as long as you’re useful in other ways.” He teased – his eyes set on your expression, watching it curl in bliss as you soaked his fingers with slick. Offering a curt chuckle. “And I can think of plenty ways I want to use you.”
He wiped his fingers on your panties and pulled them back in place, patting your cunt in kudos before getting up. 
You were left softly blinking, catching your damp breaths while slowly coming to – enough to see him packing up.
“What are you doing?” You asked in a rush. The half-finished assignment spread on the desk sobering you up – enough to make you pull your thighs back together and send the worry back into your hopeless eyes.
“I gotta spell everything out for you, don’t I?” He sighed, acting exasperated before a grin crept up his face like before. 
He bent down until his face was but a hairs length from yours, one big hand laid flat on the textbook on the desk, balancing him as he curled a finger under your chin. 
“You and I take this assignment back to my place- I finish it for you, and then…” He paused, drumming his fingers on the pages while giving his teeth a quick lick. “I finish you right after.”
You bit your lip in turn, watching him pull his bag up on his shoulder while lifting the book for you to take.
“Sound good?” He asked then, waiting for you with a raised brow.
Smiling once you took the book in both hands with a cute nod to your head. 
“Then hurry it up, Dinkerbell.”
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Full altered fic available here:
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vivmaek · 9 months ago
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POETRY FOR YOUR MOON SIGN
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✰ my masterlist poems written by someone who has the same moon sign as you <3
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☾PISCES☽
Edgar Allen Poe, A Dream Within a Dream
“Take this kiss upon the brow! / And, in parting from you now, / Thus much let me avow – / You are not wrong, who deem / That my days have been a dream; / Yet if hope has flown away / In a night, or in a day, / In a vision, or in none, / Is it therefore the less gone? / All that we see or seem / Is but a dream within a dream.”
June Jordan, You Came with Shells
“You came with shells. And left them: / shells. / They lay beautiful on the table. / Now they lie on my desk / peculiar / extraordinary under 60 watts.”
Toni Morrison, It Comes Unadorned
“it comes / Unadorned / Like a phrase / Strong enough to cast a spell; / It comes / Unbidden, / Like the turn of sun through hills / Or stars in wheels of song. / The jeweled feet of women dance the earth. / Arousing it to spring. / Shoulders broad as a road bend to share the weight of years. / Profiles breach the distance and lean / Toward an ordinary kiss. / Bliss. / it comes naked into the world like a charm.”
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☾AQUARIUS☽
W.B Yeats, A Coat
“I made my song a coat / Covered with embroideries / Out of old mythologies / From heel to throat; / But the fools caught it, / Wore it in the world’s eyes / As though they’d wrought it. / Song, let them take it / For there’s more enterprise / In walking naked.”
W.B Yeats, The Lover Tells of the Roses in His Heart
“All things uncomely and broken, all things worn out and old, / The cry of a child by the roadway, the creak of a lumbering cart, / The heavy steps of the ploughman, splashing the wintry mould, / Are wronging your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart. / The wrong of unshapely things is a wrong too great to be told; I hunger to build them anew and sit on a green knoll apart, / With the earth and the sky and the water, re-made, like a casket of gold / For my dreams of your image that blossoms a rose in the deeps of my heart.”
Louisa May Alcott, The Lay of a Golden Goose
“Oh! Be not rash,” her father said, / A mild Socratic bird; / Her mother begged her not to stray / With many a warning word. / But little goosey was perverse / And eagerly did cry, / “I’ve got a lovely pair of wings, / Of course I Ought to fly.”
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☾CAPRICORN☽
John Milton, Sonnet 19
“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide, / And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, through my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker,”
Jala al-Din Rumi, The Guest House
“This being human is a guest house. / Every morning a new arrival. / A joy, a depression, a meanness, / some momentary awareness comes / As an unexpected visitor. / Welcome and entertain them all! / Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows, / who violently sweep your house / empty of its furniture, / still treat each guest honorably. / He may be clearing you out / for some new delight. / The dark thought, the shame, the malice, / meet them at the door laughing, / and invite them in. / Be grateful for whoever comes, because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”
Gwendolyn Brooks, a song in the front yard
“I’ve stayed in the front yard all my life. / I want a peek at the back / Where it’s rough and untended and hungry weed / grows. / A girl gets sick of a rose.”
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☾SAGITTARIUS☽
Lewis Carroll, A Boat Beneath a Sunny Sky
“In a Wonderland they lie, / Dreaming as the days go by, / Dreaming as the summers die: / Ever drifting down the stream – / Lingering in the golden gleam – / Life, what it is but a dream?”
Dante Alighieri, From “Inferno”
“It’s the pain / of the people down there that empties my / face. / It’s pity / that you’ve mistaken for fear. / And it’s the long way / that pushes us now. / Let’s go.”
Victor Hugo, Tomorrow, At Dawn
“Tomorrow, at dawn, at the hour when the countryside whitens, / I will set out. You see, I know that you wait for me. / I will go by the forest, I will go by the mountain. / I can no longer remain far from you. / I will walk with my eyes fixed on my thoughts, / Seeing nothing of outdoors, hearing no noise / Alone, unknown, my back curved, my hands crossed, / Sorrowed, and the day for me will be as night.”
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☾SCORPIO☽
Sarojini Naid, Autumn Song
“Like a joy on the heart of a sorrow, / The sunset hangs on a cloud; / A golden storm of glittering sheaves, / Of fair and frail and fluttering leaves, / The wild wind blows in a cloud. / Hark to a voice that is calling / To my heart in the voice of the wind: / My heart is weary and sad and alone, / For its dreams like the fluttering leaves have gone, / And why should I stay behind?”
Shel Silverstein, Dreadful
“Someone ate the baby. / It’s absolutely clear / Someone ate the baby / ‘Cause the baby isn’t here. / We’ll give away her toys and clothes. / We’ll never have to wipe her nose. / Dad says, “That’s the way it goes.” / Someone ate the baby.”
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Aftermath
“When the summer fields are mown, / When the birds are fledged and flown, / And the dry leaves strew the path; / With the falling of the snow, / With the cawing of the crow, / Once again the fields we mow / And gather in the aftermath.”
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☾LIBRA☽
Maya Angelou, Caged Bird
“A free bird leaps / on the back of the wind / and floats downstream / till the current ends / and dips his wing / in the orange sun rays / and dares to claim the sky.”
Emily Dickinson, Good Morning – Midnight
“Good Morning – Midnight – / I’m coming Home – / Day – got tired of Me – / How could I – of Him? / Sunshine was a sweet place – / I liked to stay – / But Morn – didn’t want me – now – / So – Goodnight – Day!”
Elizabeth Barrett Browning, My Heart and I
“You see we’re tired, my heart and I. / We dealt with books, we trusted men, / And in our own blood drenched the pen, / As is such colours could not fly. / We walked too straight for fortune’s end, / We loved too true to keep a friend ; / At last we’re tired, my heart and I.”
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☾VIRGO☽
Robert Hayden, Those Winter Sundays
“Sundays too my father got up early / and put his clothes on in the blueback cold, / then with cracked hands that ached / from labor in the weekday weather made / banked fires blaze. No one ever thanked him. / I’d wake and hear the cold splintering, breaking / When the rooms were warm, he’d call, / and slowly I would rise and dress, / fearing the chronic angers of that house, / Speaking indifferently to him , / who had driven out the cold / and polished my good shoes well. / What did I know, what did I know / of love's austere and lonely offices?”
Jack Kerouac, How to Meditate
“Thinking’s just like not thinking- / So I don't have to think / any / more”
William Faulkner, Study
“Muted dreams for them / for me / Bitter science. Exams are near / And my thoughts uncontrollably / Wander, and I cannot hear / The voice telling me that work I must, / For everything will be the same when I’m dead / A thousand years. I wish I were a bust / All head.”
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☾LEO☽
Walt Whitman, I sing the Body Electric
“I sing the body electric, / The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,”
Oscar Wilde, The Ballad of Reading Gaol
“Yet each man kills the thing he loves, / By each let this be heard, / Some do it with a bitter look, / Some with a flattering word, / The coward does it with a kiss, / The brave men with a sword!”
Ralph Waldo Emerson, Friendship
“A ruddy drop of manly blood / The surging sea outweighs, / The world uncertain comes and goes; / The lover rooted stays. / I fancied he was fled, – / And, after many a year, / Glowed unexhausted kindliness, / Like daily sunrise there. / My careful heart was free again, / O friend, my bosom said, / Through thee alone the sky is arched, / Through thee the rose is red; / All things through thee take nobler form, / And look beyond the earth, / The mill-round of our fate appears / A sun-path in thy worth. / Me too thy nobleness had taught / To master my despair; / The fountains of my hidden life / Are through thy friendship fair.”
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☾CANCER☽
Shakespear, Sonnet 147
“My love is as a fever, longing still / For that which longer nurseth the disease, / Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,”
Robert Frost, Acquainted with the Night
“I have been one acquainted with the night. / I have walked out in rain – and back in rain. / I have outwalked the furthest city light. / I have looked down the saddest city lane. / I have passed by the watchman on his beat / And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain. / I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet / When far away an interrupted cry / Came over houses from another street, / But not to call me back or say good-bye; / And further still at an unearthly height, / One luminary clock against the sky / Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right. / I have been one acquainted with the night.”
William Blake, Auguries of innocence
“To see a World in a Grain of Sand / And a Heaven in a wild flower / Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand / And eternity in an hour”
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☾GEMINI☽
Rudyard Kipling, Blue Roses
“Half the world I wandered through, / Seeking where such flowers grew. / Half the world unto my quest / Answered me with laugh and jest. / Home I came at wintertide, / But my silly love had died / Seeking with her latest breath / Roses from the arms of Death.”
John Keats, To Sleep
“Save me from curious Conscience, that still lords / Its strength for darkness, burrowing like a mole; / Turn the key deftly into the oiled wards, / And seal the hushed Casket of my soul.”
Lord Tennyson, The Eagle
“He clasps the crag with crooked hands; Close to the sun in lonely lands, / Ring’d with the azure world, he stands. / The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls; / He watches from his mountain walls, / And like thunderbolt he falls.”
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☾TAURUS☽
John Donne, Air and Angels
“Twice or thrice had I lov’d thee, / Before I knew thy face or name; / So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame / Angels affects us oft, and worshipp’d be;”
Audre Lorde, Recreation
“my body / writes into your flesh / the poem / you make of me. / Touching you I catch midnight / as moon fires set in my throat / I love you flesh into blossom / I made you / and take you made / into me.”
Margaret Walker, Lineage
“My grandmothers were strong. / They followed plows and bent to toil. / They moved through fields sowing seed. / They touched earth and grain grew. / They were full of sturdiness and singing. / My grandmothers were strong. / My grandmothers are full of memories / Smelling of soap and onions and wet clay / With veins rolling roughly over quick hands / They have many clean words to say. / My grandmothers were strong. / Why am I not as they?”
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☾ARIES☽
E.E Cummings, Love is more thicker than forget
“love is more thicker than forget / more thinner than recall / more seldom than a wave is wet / more frequent than to fail”
Mark Twain, Genius
“But above all things, / to deftly throw the incoherent ravings of insanity into verse / and then rush off and get booming drunk, / is the surest of all the different signs / of genius.”
Paul Laurence Dunbar, Ships that Pass in the Night
“Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing; / I look far out into the pregnant night, / Where I can hear a solemn booming gun / And I catch the gleaming of a random light, / That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.”
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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 4 months ago
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The Blackwood Knight prt.7
ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔭 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔱𝔯𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔬~ 𝔚𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔣 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰 ℜ𝔲𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔢
Description: Battles of the heart ensue out of battles between warring houses. Following a misunderstanding, The Blackwood Knight attempts to convince his lady of the depth of his feelings.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Warnings: female reader, angst.
Benjicot stared after his lady love's retreating skirts, horror struck at his own culpability in precipitating her despair. Torn between his desire to acquiese to her urgent entreaty for him to leave her and his pressing desparation to comfort her, she had disappeared from the clearing before he began to stride in the direction he had seen her flee. The fact that by following her he would be crossing from Blackwood firmly into Bracken land, exposing him to the threat of combat and perhaps death, did not enter his mind at that moment. Foremost in his mind was her tear stained face and look of betrayal, and the painful thought that he had caused both. Gaining speed now, despite the uneven downward route the forest had now taken, he held the hilt of his sword as he flew through the forest, his burgundy cloak flying behind him over his shoulder. 
His height advantage and lack of sartorial hinderance meant that he caught up with Y/N in minutes, and was further panicked to see that she was stumbling unevenly down the forest path, favouring one ankle over the other. Concern for her welfare and the pressing need to acertain whether she was hurt had him running to her and holding her left arm in his as he lifted her right hand, raising it around his neck.
Letting out a high cry of surprise, he moved himself quickly so that he was in front of her, bending so that he could examine her face.
"Are you hurt, darling?! Tell me where." He said urgently, holding her arms gently in his hands as he examined her for signs of injury. 
Pushing back with an effort that had her leaning against a tree, a pained expression on her face, she cried, "stay away from me, I don’t want your help."
Raising his arms towards her placatingly, as if approaching a startled deer, his face crumpling as if her words had been a blow, he took two wary steps towards her.
"I understand you're hurt and no one reproaches myself more than I for the misunderstanding that has caused it."
Snapping her head upwards from where she had nestled it in the crook of her arms against a tree, she retorted, "the only misunderstanding was my foolish belief that you could actually love me, not just what I could do for your territorial gain." 
Inexpressibly pained by her words and the thought that he had augmented her anxieties, rather than assuaged them, as he had hoped to do, he stepped forward quickly, ready to profess his love over and over again and to prove it in anway he could, bending before her in supplication, as he urgently took her hands in his. 
He paused, his expression growing panicked when she emited a cry when his sudden movement forced her to take a step back.
Her face growing pale, Benjicot immediately ascertained that it was her ankle she had injured. 
His concern for her pain taking precedence over all others he rose in one fluid movement, taking her left arm gently in his before she could protest and wrapping it around his neck, he lowered his neck slowly, reaching for her legs, which he swept carefully into his arms. 
Realising what he was doing, Y/N swatted weakly at Benjicot's chest, "let me down."
The demand was so quiet, he grew even more concerned at how much pain she was in. Lowering them both to a sitting position in a nearby tree trunk, so as not to hurt her further, he held her across his lap, looking down penitently into her pained face.
Speaking gently to her, he said: "I know you are angry with me, my love, and I am very sorry for it. I will explain all but for now I must determined how much damage there is to your ankle. Do I have your permission to examine it."
"I would rather you didn't, just put me down."
With a shuddering sigh, he briefly held his forehead onto hers before speaking even more gently.
"I know, and I would not impose my presence on you when it causes you pain, but I need to know how much damage there is. Let me help you."
Turning her head away from him, she closed her eyes and nodded sharply. 
Using his free hand, not holding her across him by her torso, he carefuly raised her skirt an inch, only as far as was needed to reveal her bruised, twisted ankle. 
Taking a deep breath, Benjicot delicately lowered her skirt back over the ankle and wrapped his arm underneath her legs once again, rising with her in his arms. 
"I am going to bring you home, but you must tell me of I move too quickly and it causes you pain, and I will stop immediately." 
Not receiving a response, he began to walk with measured steps in the direction of what he believed to be the path to Bracken Hall. 
Y/N's hand coming to press on his shoulder, he immediately stopped, for fear that he had caused her pain.
"You cant go any further, these are Bracken lands, you'll be killed."
Affecting a sly grin and jovial tone which was at odds with the deep pit of concern at her condition within him, he winked, "I'd like to see them try."
Seeing that his attempt at distracting her with humour was not well received, he dropped the pretence and looked down at her with all the gentle concern and desperation he really felt.
"In truth, my love, I do not care. My only concern is for you. I would encounter Bracken swords any day if it would mean I could keep you safe." Pausing to gaze into her eyes as he said this, hoping against hope that he could make her believe him if he willed it enough with his eyes. 
His words did not have the desired affect, as her lip wobbled and she turned her head away before whispering in an undertone. "I don't believe you."
Nodding dejectedly, he continued to walk. 
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At some point, whether from the pain or not, Y/N had nestled her head onto Benjicot's shoulder as they made their way back to her ancestral halls, and he took comfort in the sensation, that she herself might still look to him for comfort and protection, even if she was angry at him.
A fork in the path led them into the line of four Bracken knights, all of whom drew their swords in recognition of the Blackwood house colours and insignia of Benjicot's tunic and cloak. Pausing, Benjicot addressed himself to the knights.
"I mean no insult. The young Lady Bracken has injured her ankle and was in need of assistance."
"More likely you were the cause of her injury, release the Lady at once."
Stunned by the veracity of their accusation, he nonethless responded equitably. 
"I will, as soon as I have delivered her to the safety of her halls."
Stalking closer, his sword still raised, the Bracken knight scoffed.
"And you think we will just let you pass? Deliver the lady to us at once and withdraw!"
Gazing down at Y/N, quickly taking in her distressed expression and the tightening grip of her small hand on his tunic, he determined his next course of action.
"I will withdraw only once I am sure that the lady is safe. How dare you point your sword in the direction of the Lady. Once I have delievered her to safety, I dare you to draw it upon me." His gaze darkended as he said this, and the tension radiating from both knights became palpable.
A voice entering the clearing broke through it.
"What is amiss?"
Turning to face the young future Lord Bracken, Aeron, the Bracken Knight nodded his head in deference before responding. 
"The bloody Blackwood has injured Lady Y/N and will not release her to us."
Turning with anger towards Benjicot, Aeron strode towards him. 
"If this be true, and you have injured my cousin, there shall be violence."
Benjicot gazed at Aeron steadfastly, relying upon his care for his cousin and good sense. 
"I would rather die than hurt the Lady. I mean no offence by crossing the border, I only meant to see her safe. If there must be violence, let it be so, but let me first deliver the Lady to safety."
Meeting Benjicot's gaze with his own quizzical one, he bent his head in the direction of his cousin when he heard her quiet voice.
"Don't hurt him, he was only helping me."
Nodding once in deference to her Aeron opened his arms in her direction before turning again to Benjicot.
"You may deliver her to me, I will return her safely to Bracken Hall."
Pausing only to gaze down at Y/N to gain her permission, Benjicot reluctantly and ever so gently delivered her across to Aeron's waiting arms." 
"Be careful with her" Benjicot stuttered out, making Aeron pause in the act of turning with his cousin.
"You can be assured of that."
"What shall we do with him?" Cried one of the Bracken knights.
"Nothing," Aeron returned, let him pass back to his own lands. 
Benjicot nodded respectfully towards Aeron, watching until Y/N had completely disappeared with him down the path, all the time wishing that she would look back at him, if only for the last time.
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