#THE WAY THEY COULD HELP EACH OTHER????? SICK SICK SICK I AM SICK
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𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐌𝐲 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬
HEYYYY HIII HELLOOOO long time I KNOW IM SORRY LSKDKD AND I KNOW I SAID THE WEEKEND BUT I GOT SICK
buttt just to give a lil info, since it has been so long since I updated I put the last bit of chapter 2 at the beginning of this just as a refresher I guess!! And more overall story info (R=23) (W=30) (N=34)
I also wrote kinda like a Wanda’s POV of what happened in the janitors closet so let me know if you want that!!
Feedback is more than welcome!! I love reading all your comments they make me feel like my writing isn’t shit 🤓 and they make me smile :)) I also tried to make this as open as possible this is for everybody!! (I hope I worded that right) I mean as in there rlly no descriptions of r
Warnings: I really don’t think there are any besides maybe it starts to seem a little homewreckery BUT ITS NOT I PROMISE!!
Word count: 1.3k
Summary: You guys come out the closet and have lunch idk
"Who's the woman standing outside the door with you?" you asked.
You can tell Wanda hadn't been expecting your question by the way her eyes widened.
"Oh um, that's Natasha, After you graduated I started teaching a co-taught English class and well she's the co-teacher." She paused before confirming the suspicion you had earlier.
"She's also my wife…"
Your heart dropped.
“Your- your wife…You got married? You ask with a tremble in your voice.
“Yeah, I did um just a few years ago…”
“Oh- that's uh, that's cool. Um, congratulations.”
Wanda’s smile faltered slightly as she sensed the mix of emotions swirling inside you. The joy in her eyes seemed to dim ever so slightly, replaced by a hint of concern.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” she said quietly, her voice softening. "Maybe we could talk more about everything over Lunch?"
Your eyes snapped up at that. The thought of having lunch with her again all these years later was just too enticing to pass up, no matter how many messing feelings it brought again.
"Lunch? Are you- are you sure?" You asked with a hopeful smile on your face.
"Yes, I'm more than sure. I am positive." She reassured you with a gentle touch of her hand running up and down your forearm.
"Okay, then yes I would love to."
"great! What about this weekend at 1:00 at the cafe we saw each other last week? (a/n: Its Wednesday)
"That's perfect!"
"Okay good then it's a date." She said scrunching her nose up in a way that always made your heart melt.
Date.
"I am so sorry, but I better get back, can't leave Natasha by herself for too long with all those parents and kids out there, But I can't wait for our lunch date!"
Date. There goes that word again.
“Yes, of course, I’m sorry for keeping you for so long,” you replied, trying to shake off the rush of emotions swirling in your mind.
Wanda smiled warmly, as if she could sense the turmoil within you. “No need to apologize. It’s nice to catch up, I've missed you."
You both stood there for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. The bustling sounds from the school faded slightly as you locked eyes.
“Alright, I better get going,” she said after a pause, and you could hear the softer undertones of sadness in her voice. “But I’ll see you this weekend, okay?”
“Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it,” you replied, offering her a genuine smile.
Wanda gave you one last look, her expression revealing a mix of excitement and a hint of uncertainty before she opened the door of the janitor's closet.
You took a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. You had so many thoughts swirling through your head but at the same time, you felt as if you couldn't think.
As you finally turned to head out back to your car, you felt a strange sense of hope take root inside you.
You couldn’t help but replay the moment in your mind, the surprise of learning she was married mixed with the thrill of the upcoming lunch. It was complicated, but one thing was clear: you wanted to explore this. No matter how much it might hurt in the end.
The rest of the week felt like an eternity. You replayed snippets of conversations you had shared over the years, moments of laughter, and even the unspoken feelings that had lingered in the air. Each thought made the anticipation for the weekend grow stronger.
Finally, Saturday arrived. You stood in front of your mirror, carefully selecting your outfit for lunch. The end of summer's warmth lingered in the air, but a hint of fall was beginning to whisper in the breeze. You chose a lightweight mustard-yellow sweater, perfect for the transition between seasons. Its soft knit hugged your figure comfortably.
For pants, you chose a pair of high-waisted, olive-green corduroy pants that offered both warmth and style. The slightly flared legs provided a retro vibe, making them an ideal choice for early autumn. On your feet, you wore your black Converse. Always a staple in your outfits.You topped everything off with a silver chain that went slightly past your collarbone and small gold hoops that reflected off the light.
Never understood the big deal about mixing silver and gold.
And a light spritz of your favorite fall-inspired perfume, with notes of vanilla and sandalwood, completed the look, a warm scent perfect for the season.
As the clock ticked closer to 1:00, doubts and anxiety started creeping in.
What if she doesn't show?
Is my outfit bad?
Does my breath smell? You make sure to brush your teeth one more time before leaving.
When you arrived at the cafe, a wave of shyness washed over you. You spotted Wanda almost immediately. She was sitting at a cozy table, her reddish auburn hair catching the sunlight, and you wondered how someone could look both familiar and new after all this time.
You exchanged hesitant glances. The soft murmur of conversations around you felt louder than usual, amplifying the butterflies in your stomach.
As you approached, her face lit up, the warmth of her smile easing your nerves.
“You made it!” she exclaimed, standing up to greet you with an embrace that felt both comfortable and electrifying.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, taking a seat across from her.
For a moment, the air was thick with unspoken words. Both of you are unsure what to say.
Fortunately, as if sensing the tension in the air, a waitress approached to take your order.
"I'll have a hot caramel latte and a turkey and cheese sandwich, please," Wanda said with a soft smile. You returned her smile, appreciating the familiarity of her order.
Both Wanda and the waitress turned to you, waiting to see what you'd chosen.
"I'll have the same, please. Thank you."
*****************************
You sipped your coffee, the warmth seeping into your hands, trying to ground yourself. Slowly but surely the conversation began to flow just like how it had all those years ago.
It was as if nothing had changed.
As if neither had gone through drastic changes.
Yet, even as the conversation deepened, the thought of her marriage lingered at the back of your mind and the fact that they worked together. Soon within a day, they both would be your coworkers.
Curiosity nudged at you, and you found yourself leaning in.
“What’s it like? Teaching together, I mean? That must be… interesting.”
Just like in the janitor's closet, she was surprised by your sudden question.
Though she laughed softly, easing the tension. “It is, we balance each other out. She’s all about structure, while I tend to go with the flow. It makes for some creative lesson plans."
Though you were more so wondering if they shared any lunches like the two of you did;
You'll take it.
Gathering up as much composure as possible you try to sound as "mature" as you possibly can. “Sounds like a great dynamic,” you replied, picturing the two of them in a classroom full of students, bouncing ideas off each other.
"Yeah it is, we make a great team." Wanda smiled, her eyes lighting up.
"You know, I would love for the two of you to formally meet."
Your heart raced and your mind went blank.
What the fuck?
"Wait...I'm sorry, what?"
Wanda repeated herself slowly, not sure how to take your response.
“Oh, um, really? Your wife?” You stammered, shocked from the sudden/not so sudden twist in conversation. "I mean are you- are you sure that is a good idea? You know, me being me?"
Wanda smiled at you comfortingly. "Of course, it's a good idea, I mean besides you were gonna meet her soon anyway with school starting Monday-"
She stops mid-sentence playing with the necklace adorning her neck, a telltale sign
She's nervous.
"Natasha also already knows exactly who you are to me."
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
𝐨𝐨𝐩 🤓
𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯!!
@nebthetautora @esposadejoyhuerta @w4ndsversew0nder
@skz-xii
#mommy wanda#wanda maximoff fanfiction#marvel moodboard#wanda moodboard#wanda fanfic#wanda marvel#wanda maximoff#wandavision#wanda maximov#wanda x reader#wands natsthing#marvel cinematic universe#marvel mcu#wanda maximoff moodboard#professor wanda#wanda maximoff x reader#domme mommy#wanda mcu#wanda#wandanat#teacher attachment#teacher x student#teachers pet#natasha romanov#natasha romanoff fanfiction#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#teacher x teacher#Chases works ★#wlw story
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LOVE BITES.
— am i making you feel sick?
summary : there was always something up with your boyfriend; he would only ever take you out on dates at night, but only if he wasn't on patrol, and that was a big if. if one of you went round the other's and you made a nice italian dish with garlic, he would apologise and say he didn't feel well. if walking the city at night, he'd offer to take you the long way home, and you noticed he always said that as the cathedral building began to loom into view. he couldn't be... no... surely not... but you had to ask. was your boyfriend a vampire?
note : dark themes possibly because dick is a thirsty lil vamp
note 2 : anf also do you get the title..... because i'm saying love bites as in the verb because hés a vampire but also lovebites like lovebites like.... 😂😂😂😂😂😅😅😅😅😅 ok bye go read now xxxxx
from up here, the streaking city of gotham seemed so small. darkness enveloped the roof of the fire escape you'd dashed up to after dinner — which you'd cooked and remembered to leave garlic out of — but the streets below were still struck with headlights and tail-lights and everything in between.
he'd eaten all the plates you'd offered him, and even shared a bowl of homemade eton mess, but he still looked a bit peaky; even in the shadows the moonlight cast along the divots of his face.
"you okay? still hungry?" you hummed, causing him to glance back at you from the busy streets below.
the corner of his mouth curled up, revealing one of those sharp canines of his, which twinkled in the moon above. "like you have no idea," he chuckled, turning back to where he leaned against the railing.
"oh— i think there was some more left over," you responded quickly, gesturing back to the fire escape door being held open by a brick dick had found up here. "it'll be warm still."
with that, you were about to walk back down the stairs to your apartment, but, before you could move, dick extended his arm around your shoulders and pulled you back into his side. despite his layers, you'd noticed he was almost always as cold as ice. "hey, i'm joking," he said, but there was something lying beneath his upbeat tone. "don't worry about it. let's stay here for a bit still, i'm enjoying myself."
despite the pang of worry in your chest, his words didn't fail to bring a smile to your face, and you instinctively snaked an arm around his waist, elbow pressing into his jacket to hold him there and keep him there.
for a few long, tranquil moments, there was nothing else but you and him, the light buzz of the city mere white noise soothing you further.
but it seemed no matter how perfect everything was — how perfect he was — you couldn't shake it from your mind.
"what are you?"
the words swam from your lips like a stream that trickles along the edge of a damp forest, clustered with thick roots and fallen leaves. you didn't look up when you spoke, lids half-hung over your eyes, the building across the way standing in the lower half of your vision.
under your arm, dick's frame shifted; you could feel him shimmy to peer at you, his noir waves brushing along your forehead. the breath of a chuckle passed his own lips. "what do you mean? i'm your boyfriend."
he said it like it was obvious — because why wouldn't it be?
"i'm your boyfriend and i love you," he returned, holding you tighter. you could practically feel his smile against the side of your head.
still, your own smile couldn't help but grow, and you sank further into his hold, another arm coming to wrap around his waist. "well, i know that," you laughed, though struggling to keep it down where it bubbled: this was supposed to be serious. but when was dick ever serious?
taking a haste breath in, you pried your head away from him until his whole face came into view, your arms still holding each other close. "but i mean what are you?"
by now, dick had certainly noticed the swift change in your tone, the way your smile had faded, its remnants the ghost of lines at the corners of your mouth. like a superimposition fading into the other image, his own smile began to drop to a neutral line, eyes glinting with curiosity.
his hands slowly travelled up from your back, the coolness of his touch even harsh through your coat and the layers beneath. as his fingers ran along the sculpture of your clothed shoulder blades, a chill started at the base of your vertebrae and danced down to your feet.
"i can be anything you want me to be."
his eyes looked between yours, some sort of earnesty lingering in those dark, dark pupils. almost as if you'd stare so deep and glimpse his past lives.
"i can be your soldier, your knight, your poet, your playwright."
perhaps not almost — perhaps you were.
similarly as his hands had moved, yours drifted to his chest, where the firmness of his pecs caused a swell to swirl in your knees.
"if you take all that away," you began, voice quieter now, a waver in its steadiness, "what would you be?"
never before had you seen dick look anything like this... a quiver of his bottom lip, one finger twitched on your shoulder blade in uncertainty, a crease formed between his brows; like it would all spill out any moment now...
"you wouldn't like it."
even now when he spoke it was as though he couldn't bear to hear himself talk; perhaps less that you wouldn't like it, that he didn't like it.
your hands rose and found the curved base of his shoulders, touch soft and warm, the latter a contrast to his. "i like you, dick. i love you, in fact. i trust you and i love you. but you have some... quirks — as we all do — and i think i want you to be honest with me."
dick lowered his gaze, fingers instinctively gripping you tighter, holding you closer. but it was like he couldn't stand himself.
"we never see each other during the day — which, fair enough," you began, voice finding its strength now. "but it gets to a point where you won't eat the things i make if there's a specific ingredient, or you'll leave the bathroom immediately when i come in, even if you're just washing your hands and i need something from the cabinet."
with each word his separate winces grew greater; a twitch of his eyebrow, a flare of his nostrils, a scowl that disappears as soon as he makes it.
but once you'd finished your bit, dick didn't speak.
for a single moment, his hands moved to ghost over your shoulder blades, where they'd previously sat fine. was he too cold or were you too warm?
when you squeezed his shoulders lightly, they came back, just as cold as ever.
"i'm a monster."
the words seemed to reverberate along the rooftop. even though you knew what you were waiting for, the anguished tone that came from him caused you to crumble, that swell returning to your knees.
you knew he'd hate you to pity him, but you felt your eyebrows curve and eyes soften and something throbbed in your chest.
your hands found the base of his jaw, and carefully lifted his head so he'd meet your gaze once again. "you would never be a monster. i know what you are, but i also know who you are. that never changed; will never change. okay?"
deep in his throat, his adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down a damp thickness, but he brought himself to nod.
"you said you were hungry?"
for a couple beats, dick stared at you with a furrow in his brows — and then his eyes lit in recognition, but like when a red light goes off, not when a lightbulb ignites.
"no. no, absolutely not." he shook his head, attempting to shrug off your soft touch, the weight of his own hands disappearing from your back. but you didn't back down.
"dick, i trust you," you retorted, hands lowering to where his neck met his shoulders, firm but loving. "i– i don't know how this works, but... it's okay. do it, it's okay."
although he'd stopped in his tracks, eyeing you, half in curiosity, half in contempt. you wouldn't do this. surely not.
one hand came off his neck, and you tilted your head to the side, bringing your fingers to the collar of your jacket.
soft flesh, tender; a quickly-beating, thumping pulse.
dick could hear it, practically taste it, and his own heart began pumping, hammering, blood rushing to his ears.
a force inside him, gribbing him from his stomach, was holding him back; but a pair of hands was shoving him forward, that devil on his shoulder whispering in his ear. feed, feed, feed.
the turmoil was evident in his face, and the hand still on his shoulder trailed down to his wrist; thumb on veins, his blood was racing faster than you'd ever felt it. you pulled him forward. "it's okay," you reassured him again.
"are you... are you sure? i mean... you've never met someone like me. i don't— i don't usually... feed on living people."
god, he felt stupid saying all these things out loud. but he needed to remind himself: this is what he was. no changing it now. no choices left.
ignoring the thuddering against your rib cage, you urged him closer with another tug on his wrist, never removing your gaze from his. "i'm more than sure. i think."
he couldn't ignore the certainty in your tone, your firm answer; couldn't ignore the hearty, tender scent filling his senses.
one hand came to carefully grip the back of your head, holding it in place, neck perfect for him to sink his teeth into. the other found its old place upon your shoulder blades, a soft touch to distract you from his violence.
he was close; so close his breath was grazing the pulse in your neck, a sensation both hot and cold, both blood-curdling and nauseating, but also passionate and loving. whatever he would do to you, he'd do it with utmost care.
a whisper in your ear, "tell me if you feel sick."
and then needle broke thread, fangs into flesh.
a gasp echoed in the air, hanging thick and then swirling into the streets below, to be caught up in the smog of the cars. your hands found his broad back, fingers gripping the fabric of his coat, balling it in fists.
much like getting blood taken at the doctors, it was piercing on impact, but lulling as it continued.
another gasp fell from your mouth as something warm dribbled from the new wound, down your cold neck, and a serpent slithered down to lap it up carefully.
beneath your touch, dick seemed to feel stronger, his already-large muscles thickening.
to live like this was to kill yourself slowly, unless you had vessels to kill on your behalf. would you be that vessel forever?
it ended with a soft kiss against the stinging fang-wounds, and the pain ceased.
when dick finally pulled away, his lips were plump and pink, stained with what ran through your every living moment, and he was breathless, chest heaving — yours wasn't any different, a combination of shock and energy drain.
"was that okay?" dick sighed quietly, his fangs sharpest you'd ever seen as they glinted with each word, his gaze set on your neck, where the pad of his thumb brushed the healed wound carefully.
"i mean... define 'okay'."
the corner of his lip curled in amusement. "not dying. head not spinning. neck not stinging." but something flickered in his features: uncertainty. "not rethinking this relationship?"
this was where you hesitated, admittedly. certainly not rethinking, but definitely thinking about it.
it was now that you realised your hands were still fisted, and you infurled them carefully, letting go of his jacket as you did so. "definitely okay," you smiled, though an air of awkwardness still hung. "but i think i could use the leftovers of dinner. i think all that takes a lot out of someone."
dick's features slackened, relieved, almost.
he threw a strong arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side as he had done at the beginning of the night. "i wouldn't expect you to be doing great, but... thank you. that's helped more than you could even know." a few beats passed, dick's chest swelling, your smile brightening. "anyways, let's get some food in you. you deserve it more than me."
#aangelinakii#dc#dc comics#dc imagines#dc reactions#dc headcanons#dc universe#richard grayson#dick grayson#dick grayson reactions#dick grayson drabble#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson headcanons#nightwing#nightwing imagines#nightwing x reader#Spotify
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Mine - Prompt / Ask Answer
An answer to the prompt 'Newton gets sick and Anthony comforts Kate through it' from @lookingfts prompts in my Ask.
This is actually the following chapter to 'Yours', because how sweet would it be for Anthony to help Kate when she drops their date night for Newton?
(Sadly, the title does not tie into any given line in this not-drabble. I was trying, but nope. Whatever. Here's 3k worth of maybe terrible words.) ENJOY!
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Mine
There had been a few dates since the opera, all ending with Anthony kissing her at the door to her flat before leaving, ever the perfect gentleman. The third one had been an eye-wateringly expensive dinner in a restaurant she couldn’t pronounce the name of. Kate had tried her best to at least pay something towards it, but Anthony hadn’t let her, simply stating hat he was treating her.
So on the fourth date, Kate had marched the infuriating man away from the yacht he had rented—or owned; Kate had a feeling Anthony would own something as ridiculous as a yacht—and steered him into a Wendy’s instead.
It had been quite the picture, watching Anthony as he stared down at the burger she had ordered him, slightly perplexed. Then, once he’d taken a bite, it was if he had become quite ravenous and it was the most delicious thing in the world.
Licking the smear of ketchup off the corner of his mouth had also been quite fun, Kate remembered with a blush.
Now, they were coming up to their fifth date. “The yacht you chose Wendy’s over,” he’d teased when they were the only two left at work last night. “Any other person would have loved their date taking them out on a yacht.”
Kate had simply rolled her eyes. “Then I am afraid they have no taste, Bridgerton,” she had replied, looping her arms around his neck. “Wendy’s is the epitome of fine dining, I shall have you know.”
And then he had smiled, the pleasing kind that made Kate want to kiss him. And she had, thoroughly enough that his lips became kiss-bruised and plump, his hair absolutely ravished by her fingers.
They had parted ways maybe a half hour after, promising to see each other tomorrow, and Anthony would definitely, absolutely get Kate on that bloody yacht, so help him God.
Of course, neither of them could always get what they wanted
“Well, hello,” Anthony answered after the third ring, his voice bright. “Can’t wait to finally get on that yacht tonight?”
“I can’t come,” Kate blurted out, her hand trembling as she held her phone. “I—there’s an emergency. At home. I can’t do our date tonight.”
Anthony went quiet, and Kate’s stomach dropped. Then—
“Kate?” he sounded worried, now. “Kate, are you okay? Do you need me to—”
“No,” she said, far too quickly. There was a tremor in her voice. “No, it’s fine. I just—next time. Okay?”
She ended the call, dropping her phone and muffling a sob. Turning, Kate stumbled towards Newton, his ears flat against his head while he whined. She kneeled next to him, scooping her rotund little man into her arms and cuddled him close, a soft hiccup escaping her.
He hadn’t been right all day, Kate had seen it. He had hardly touched his food, for one, something Newton never did. His stomach was also tender, often earning Kate a whine when she touched it. And there was the whining, the sheer pain each one held bringing tears to her eyes. Sniffling, Kate cradled her oversized pup gently, her hand soothing between his ears.
He was her baby, she wanted to help him. Except her vet was closed for the weekend, the emergency practice nearby overbooked, refusing to take Newton in. Anywhere else was too far away, and Kate didn’t drive. She couldn’t subject poor Newton to the subway, either; she wanted her beloved boy to be comfortable, not overwhelmed by smell and sound and fluorescent lights that would only make him feel worse.
So, all she could do in that moment was weep into his fur.
There was a knock at her door about ten minutes later.
Kate blinked, looking up from Newton’s newly-damp fur. He whimpered in her arms when, carefully, she set him down on his favourite purple cushion, and slowly made her way to the door.
She was surprised to see a nervous-looking Anthony when she checked the peephole.
“What—what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice weak, her eyes wet with tears. Almost immediately, she found herself being crushed against his chest.
“Are you okay?” he breathed, his own voice choked. When he finally pulled away, he had gathered her face into his hands. “Are you alright? On the phone, you sounded—you’ve been crying, Kate. Is everything alright?”
She blinked up at him, fresh tears beginning to well in her eyes. He looked distraught, pained, almost. The pleasing smile she adored so much was no longer on his face, the laughter in his voice gone.
And then she was in his arms again, her head pressed against his nice, robin blue button-up shirt, and she was sobbing.
“It’s—It’s—” Her breath shuddered, and she squeezed her eyes shut. She felt a hand in her hair,, gentle fingers stroking down while one arm wound around her waist.
“Hey, hey,” Anthony murmured, his lips pressed against her temple. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Take your time.”
Sweetheart. Kate’s heart swelled at the endearment; it was the first time he had called her that. On all their dates before now, he had never called her anything but Kate.
Finally, after a moment of sobbing, Kate looked up, not daring to look at the very apparent wet spot that now adorned his shirt. Shaking her head, take took another trembling breath, and sniffed in the most unattractive manner.
“Newton,” she whispered, and understanding dawned upon Anthony’s face. “He—something’s wrong. I think he’s sick.”
Anthony’s face softened, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, Kate,” he murmured, leading her further down the hallway of her flat and closing the door behind him. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Have you called the vet?”
Kate nodded, another sniff quickly following. “They’re closed. Emergency vet’s too busy. Won’t take him.” And then she was shaking, cold washing over her as she shook her head. Spinning, she broke away from Anthony’s hold at the sound of another agonising whine as more tears made their way down her cheeks.
“Newton, baby,” she whispered, kneeling next to him. Anthony followed. “I’m sorry. It’s okay, baby, it’ll be okay.”
Kate wasn’t sure how much she believed her own words, how much she didn’t believe her own voice. Then Anthony was there beside her, his arm wrapped gently around her shoulders, pulling her close. Newton barely acknowledged the man’s presence, and it pained Kate even more to see that her dutiful, darling dog couldn’t even find the strength to growl at his newfound nemesis as he usually did.
As she stroked Newton’s fur, Kate was dimly aware of Anthony whispering something soothing, something sweet, his thumb stroking her shoulder gently before he was speaking again, but this time, not to her.
Turning, her eyelashes wet and her cheeks tacky from her tears, she saw that he was on the phone to someone.
“Yes, that’s right… thirty minutes? Perfect. Thank you.”
He slipped his phone back into his pocket, his lips twisted into a grim frown.
“Do you have a pet carrier?” he asked gently, his gaze once again turned to Kate. She blinked, dumbfounded, before nodding slowly. Anthony offered a small smile.
“I know a vet. He can see Newton for you,” he said. “I’ll drive. Okay?”
Kate barely felt herself nod before Anthony was gently lifting Newton from his cushion, his gaze determined. Her mind was a fog as she stumbled to get up, her legs trembling as she went to find the pet carrier she seldom used in the coat cupboard. And then she was whispering apologies to her beloved Newton as Anthony placed him in the pet carrier, Newton’s favourite blanket already cushioning the cold plastic.
They mad their way to the vets mostly in silence. Anthony would often say something sweet, something optimistic, but all Kate could focus on was her poor baby, whining in the pet carrier as Anthony drove them somewhere.
Thankfully, there was very little traffic and soon enough, they were at the vets Anthony had called. Once the car was parked, Anthony was quick to grab Newton’s carrier while Kate followed, blinking back even more tears. Once inside, they were immediately greeted by a person Kate assumed to be the vet.
“Anthony,” he greeted, a brilliant smile plastered to his face. “I was quite surprised to get your call; never pegged you for a dog-person.”
Anthony didn’t return the vet’s smile. “He’s not mine,” he said simply. “He—Newton, that is—he’s Kate’s. My girl— Kate’s. This is her dog.”
Anthony cleared his throat while the vet nodded, understanding settling in his gaze. He was quiet for a moment, looking between Anthony and Kate, before finally reaching out a hand.
“May I?” he asked, and Kate nodded. Swallowing, she watched the vet take the pet carrier as Anthony hissed a quiet, “Careful, Dorset!” while they followed him through a door and down a corridor.
They came to a room and, as the vet named Dorset set the carrier down, he opened the small door and gently pulled Newton out.
“So, Miss Kate,” he murmured, carefully looking over the rather chubby, currently docile creature. “What seems to be the problem here?”
Sniffing, Kate rattled off the issues that plagued Newton. The painful whines, his tender stomach, the fact that he didn’t eat—Anthony snorted at that one, earning him an elbow in the ribs from Kate—and how he had been so different yesterday. The vet nodded along, listening carefully while he pressed a gentle hand against Newton’s stomach, earning him a long, pained whine.
“Stop—” Kate started, but the vet simply put his hand up.
“Wait a moment, Miss Kate,” he murmured, his mouth twisting into a frown. “Give me a moment; I think I know what’s wrong.”
Kate stepped back, her eyes growing wide. “Oh. O—okay,” she whispered, knowing she needed to trust the vet, even though she wished she could scoop Newton up and make sure he didn’t get hurt again.
Then she felt Anthony’s fingers brushing against hers until they were intertwined, squeezing her hand in his. She squeezed back, grateful he was there. Thankful that he was the one who had found a vet who could take a look at her perfect little boy.
They stayed like that for an agonising minute, watching in silence as Dorset the vet checked over Newton and moved him around a bit, carefully, gently, when…
“Did—did he just pass gas?”
Anthony had said this with some disgust, and Kate shot him a glare. Dorset, on the other hand, was smiling brightly.
“Trapped wind can be quite discomforting for animals,” he explained, scratching Newton between his now-upright ears. “It can even be quite a cause for concern, with some animals collapsing. It is always better to be safe than sorry.”
Newton yipped as if in agreement, his tail beginning to swish back and forth as he looked up at Dorset, his gaze filled with adoration. Kate almost sobbed with relief; her beautiful, wonderful bundle of fluff was back, and he was okay. Taking the few steps towards the table, she scooped Newton up in her arms and kissed his head.
“Oh, my sweet little man,” she whispered, burrowing her face into his fur. “I was so scared.” Then she looked up again, her gaze on Dorset, and offered him a watery smile. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Dorset.”
“Oh, please, call me Tom,” he grinned, stretching out a hand to fuss over Newton. “And you don’t need to thank me at all. If anything, you should be thanking Anthony for calling me; I wouldn’t have come in for just anyone on a Saturday.”
Kate stared at him, unblinking. The he was walking away to go and wash his hands, and she was about to say something when Newton growled, newly invigorated, and she looked down to see her beloved pet glaring at Anthony, whose palm was outstretched.
Anthony huffed. “Ungrateful beast,” he muttered, low enough that Kate might not have heard it, had she not been paying attention.
“Newton is an excellent judge of character, I’ll have you know,” she smirked. Anthony’s cheeks turned pink, and Kate scratched Newton between his ears. “But, I have to agree; you’re being a tad ungrateful, Newton. You wouldn’t be feeling better if he hadn’t called up his friend to take care of you.”
Newton was blissfully unaware of his scolding, however, instead seeming quite content to bask in Kate’s fuss, his eyes closed and tail continuously wagging.
Anthony continued to grumble under his breath as they made their way to the car, barely acknowledging Tom with a ‘Thank you,’ before they left. As Kate waved to the vet from her seat—“He’s so kind, isn’t he?” she smiled over at Anthony, who only scowled—Newton curled up in her lap while Anthony put the pet carrier in the boot of his car.
“You can stop sulking,” Kate said brightly as Anthony drove her back to the flat. “Newton is very picky with who he likes.”
Anthony’s scowl only deepened. “He hasn’t even given me a chance!” he started, his neck taut with frustration. “Every time I pick you up, he growls. Every time I try to play nice, he barks. I—why doesn’t he like me?”
At his desperation, Kate couldn’t help but laugh. When Kate shot her a pained look, she realised that probably wasn’t the right thing to do.
“Oh, Anthony,” she said soothingly, reaching out a hand and placing it on his thigh. She ignored the way Anthony’s leg jumped at the small touch. “He will come around, I promise. Newton is just protective; he thinks you’re going to steal me away.”
Antony snorted. “As if that would happen.” Kate couldn’t help but smile at this; it seemed Anthony was aware he was the loser in this battle.
“Maybe,” she hummed, patting his thigh and looking towards the road. “But, he will have to get over it eventually. You are my boyfriend, after all.”
Anthony slammed his foot on the brakes, causing Newton to yip in annoyance and Kate to snap “Anthony!” Thankfully, they had stopped at a traffic light that had just turned red.
What is going on with you?” Kate gasped, cuddling a burrowing Newton to her chest. Anthony turned to look at her, then, his eyes wide and filled with hope? No, delight. He was delighted.
“Say that again,” he breathed, earning him a quizzical look from Kate. “Tell me, Kate. Please.”
Stroking Newton, Kate shook her head and gave Anthony a curious stare. “What? That you’re my boyfriend? I hardly think that calls for—”
Very little came out of her mouth, then, because Anthony’s lips were pressed against hers, his hand curling into the back of her head as she kissed her until she was breathless. It wasn’t until a horn was screaming at them from behind, that Anthony realised he was still supposed to be driving.
“Crap,” he muttered, shifting into gear as he finally passed the green light. “Sorry. Got carried away.” Then he was grinning, almost vibrating in his seat. “You call me your boyfriend.”
Kate laughed, shaking her head. “Yes, and?” she said, amused by how delighted he seemed. “You nearly called me your girlfriend at the vets.”
Anthony coughed, as if he had forgotten. “Well, that is to say—I wasn’t sure you’d like it. We haven’t discussed it, after all.”
He was blushing, from the tips of his ears to his cheeks. He was bashful, Kate realised, and it only made her want to kiss him again, traffic jam be damned. It really wasn’t fair how sweet he could be, even when he didn’t mean it.
“I like it very much,” she said softly. At this, Anthony’s blush only seemed to deepen.
“I wanted to ask properly. Tonight. On the yacht,” he admitted, turning a corner onto Kate’s street. “But that plan seems to have gone out the window.” He didn’t look at her as he parked outside of her building, focusing on lining up his car perfectly instead. Kate watched him quietly, wondering how she could have gotten so lucky. Finally, once he had parked, she said,
“I think this is better.”
And then she was leaning over to kiss him, Newton whining in protest as he was crushed between them both. It didn’t take long for Anthony to part from Kate, his glare fixed on the yapping dog as Kate laughed, her hand still fixed to the back of her boyfriend’s neck.
“You should come inside,” she murmured, her gaze falling to those pretty lips that fascinated her so. “Get acquainted with Newton. Tell me a little more about that yacht you’re desperate to get me on.”
At her suggestion, Anthony’s gaze seemed to darken. “Oh, that could take all night, sweetheart,” he whispered back, his breath falling shallow. “It’s a pretty great yacht; you really should reconsider joining me on it.”
Laughter bubbled up in her throat; knowing Anthony, he would get her on the damned thing, one day.
“Maybe another time,” she whispered, pushing her forehead against his. “But tonight, I need to keep an eye on Newton. I think you should help me.” At her suggestion, Anthony arched an eyebrow, his smile turning a tad cocky.
“Oh, yeah?” he grinned. Kate nodded.
“Mmhm,” she hummed, running a thumb over the shell of his ear as she bit down on her bottom lip. “And no innocent goodbye kiss at the door tonight, either; I think you should leave that for the morning.”
Anthony’s breath caught in his throat, his pupils increasing in size. “Oh, is that so?” he whispered, his breath tickling Kate’s lips. “Is that what you would like, sweetheart?” Again Kate nodded, and pressed her mouth sweetly against his.
“I still need to thank you for saving Newton,” she smiled, pulling back as she opened the passenger seat door. “And I think that’ll take all night, don’t you?”
And with a final, flirtatious look, Kate ran towards the building that housed her flat. Anthony wasn’t far behind, pinning her against the wall of the lift as she giggled and Newton huffed, once again crushed between their chests.
By the time they actually got into the flat, Newton was annoyed with them both, and Kate had barely made it to her bedroom with all her clothing intact.
#kanthony#kathony#bridgerton fanfic#anthony x kate#kanthony fic#kathony fic#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x kate sharma#kanthony prompts#kathony prompt
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Wawawa! This will be very long, I apologize!
What does your f/o's hugs feel like?
Like home. They're warm and they're safe. I can feel him next to me and I know that he's real and I'm real and that it's safe; it's okay. And I can just sit there as long as I need until I'm ready. To me, that's home.
What are your favorite dates to have with them?
Hmm. I like silly dinner dates! It doesn't have to be anywhere fancy, I'd be happy just going to an IHOP at 3 in the morning for a date. Or park dates!! A picnic or just taking walks around the place while we hold hands. Very simple things like that :3
What are their favorite dates to have with you?
I think he likes dates where we get to go to aquariums, museums, planetariums, etc. Places where he gets to watch me be in awe of everything and he has the chance to impress me with all his knowledge on whatever subject we're discussing. That, or more fancy dinner dates! Because I don't get to do a lot of anything fancy in general!
Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?
We both have a lot of songs that make us think of each other, so I will go off of what's on our shared playlist! The song that reminds me of him is "Furever" by PhemieC! The song that reminds him of me is "Sick of Losing Soulmates" by Dodie Clark!
What's the height difference between you and your f/o?
Hmm, well! I'm only 4'10", and he's 5'9"! So while he's not like, giant, he's still pretty tall compared to me! I only reach his shoulder! Idk the actual math though!
On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?
I'd say about 3 at the start of the relationship, and with enough time, we got it to an 8! He can still be a little jittery around PDA, not necessarily for the public aspect of it, but for the actual physical affection. But he can get pouty if I'm not at least holding his hand <3
What's your favorite feature about your f/o?
Is it cliche to say his eyes? They're such a pretty shade of blue <3 I'd happily sit and stare into them for hours if I could. Or maybe his voice? I love the sound of it, especially when he sings.
What do you think they smell like?
Hmm. Mint. Clean linens. Pine trees, surprisingly. Forests. He smells like winter. It's soothing.
What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.
I think it would be gift giving in terms of showing affection, and words of affirmation/physical touch for receiving affection! He lives off of praise and kind touch. I never pass up a chance to call him a sweet name or give a compliment, or press a kiss to his cheek/touch his hair. Anything to remind him I love him.
As for gift giving, I think it's a default, almost? Being surrounded by wealth for so long, around a lot of frivolous and materialistic people, he might believe that's just how people generally are. Except, I am horrible at receiving gifts. Worse than horrible. But it's okay, he will learn I want kisses and nice touches back! (And work on helping me accept gifts, oops).
Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?
Yes! It's very comfortable. He likes to be big spoon (is that too much to say?) and generally speaking, it's a bunch of comfortable blankets and being wrapped up in each other's arms. I like to lay on his chest and hear his heart beat while he has his nose in my hair. It's the only way I know how to sleep nowadays...
What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?
I think my favorite is how selfless he is, hehe! He used to do ballet, only because his little sister was too nervous to do it alone, which was soooo sweet of him! He's very flexible and still good at dancing, and it's fun to tease him about it hehe!!
What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?
Oh god, here we go again /silly. I have always described it as the same dynamic as Orpheus and Eurydice from Hadestown. A man who fell in love with a woman. Just two people who simply fell in love. One who can help the other see how the world could be, and one who can help the other see how the world is. And we'll fall in love, over and over again <3
What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?
He holds me...... He doesn't do much, though he feels a need to, I'm sure. But I really don't ask for much. I just wanna be held until I feel better. And maybe talk about it for hours until I'm over it, but he's there to listen and get whatever happened off my mind when I'm done.
Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?
It's the best feeling in the world <3
Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)
He does!! His favorite place to kiss me is my forehead/the top of my head. Or if he really wants to fluster me, he'll kiss my hands and fingers!
Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?
Yes, all the time!!! Specifically his cheek/neck/jaw!
What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?
Nap. Napping. Sleeping. Laying in bed together with no responsibilities for the day, just wrapped up in each other and being warm and happy? Sign me up, please. Napping together because we fell asleep watching a movie? Hell yes. I love naps. We deserve it.
What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?
Hmm, I can't think of a specific compliment, but he loves to call me sunshine/sweetheart! I am also considering the idea he likes to call me honey <3
What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?
My favorite compliment to give him is how selfless, kind, sweet, thoughtful he is! I don't think he realizes it or hears it enough. That he's much nicer that he realizes. I call him teddy/teddy bear a lot, but also my love, love, my prince, my knight, etc etc.
I want everyone to have the chance to ramble about their romantic f/os, so I'm gonna make a reblog game where yall can answer the plethora of questions I'm gonna toss down. Any of the questions you want to answer, as little or as much as you'd like!! I'll read them all. PR.O.SHIP DNI!!! AT ALL! GET OUT-
SO!! SELFSHIPPERS! RIDDLE ME THIS:
What do your f/o's hugs feel like?
What are your favorite dates to have with them?
What are their favorite dates to have with you?
Do you have any songs that remind you of them? Do they have any songs that make them think of you?
What's the height difference between you and your f/o?
On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being the least and 10 being the most, how much do they like PDA with you?
What's your favorite feature about your f/o?
What do you think they smell like?
What is your f/os biggest love languages? They don't have to be one of the "five", it can be anything specific they use to show you love.
Do you guys sleep in the same bed? If so, what's it like sleeping with them?
What's your favorite headcanon about your f/o?
What is the dynamic that you and your f/o have?
What does your f/o do for you when you're having a rough day?
Do you like to hold hands? If so, what's that like?
Do they like to give you little kisses? If so, where is their favorite place to kiss? (Face, hands, etc)
Vice versa, do YOU like to give them little kisses? If so, where is YOUR favorite place to give them?
What's your favorite silly leisure activity to do with your f/o?
What is your favorite compliment that your f/o gives you? What is your favorite nickname that they for you, if they have one?
What's your favorite compliment to give THEM? What is your favorite nickname to call them?
Okay I can't wait to see some answers!! Feel free to reblog as many times with as many f/os as you want. ANYONE CAN PARTICIPATE! SEEING THIS POST IS AN INVITATION FOR YOU!!
People I'd like to see answer this off the top of my head (but don't have to!!): @moxanji-real @one-winged-dreams @lovesickvalentines @graveluvr @clawingatmy-enclosure @starshakez @jpeg-indulgence @everynya @tropgothships @selfshipping-tboy @amelielovesamaris @pixel-comfort @fl0ralsxgar
#sleep talking#❄️🌨️ cold days in hell#reblog game#selfship#selfshipping#selfship community#f/o community#f/o x s/i#this was way longer than i intended#ooops......
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DEEPLY curious about your vision irt devastator and starscream, do you have any extended thoughts on that? (beautiful baseball piece btw! the pose is very dynamic, the colors rich, and i really adore how devious Devy looks in your style)
The general throughline is:
What if the bratty 60-year-old commander and the bratty 17-year-old living weapon had beef with each other?
Additional context undercut
So, I already mentioned this before, but Scrapper and Starscream are "divorced," and while Scrapper simply does not care for SS whole existence and finds him the most tiresome person he ever knew (especially after he enlisted), Starscream, on the other hand, LOATHES him. So much so that he goes out of his way to blow everything Scrapper does out of proportion to make him seem like an awful person (they both are, but Starscream is making shit up at this point).
Why am I talking about Scrapper and Starscream?
Because Starscream does not understand combiners. AT ALL. So he thinks Scrapper and Devastator are the same person and treats him accordingly. He thinks this way and refuses to change his mind because 1. thinking of Scrapper as this guy who gets the smallest bit of power and becomes an infantile attention-seeker loudmouthed jerk works great for the version of Scrapper he made in his mind, and 2. He can't grasp teamwork, so obviously the other Constructicons are lending their free will to that egocentric psycho!
Now, to our big teenager... He just wants a friend... Or just a meaningful relationship.
You see, most people either idolize Devastator or find him scary or disturbing (Decepticons included). So he doesn't have many people to talk to; Soundwave is his manager, but she made it very clear that their relationship is strictly professional, and she makes sure to not give any openings for any sort of "friendship" (he still thinks of her as his best friend).
SO STARSCREAM.
Starscream is the only guy on the Victory that dares to talk smack to Devastator (because in his mind Devy = Scrapper); at first, he's pissed because he has never experienced something like this before, so he treats Starscream as he would any upstart Autobot.
But Starscream keeps bickering with him and keeps treating Devastator as if they're old friends or something... So he starts playing into it and actually having a back-and-forth with him... And it's like... An actual conversation and Starscream treats him like a person!
Devastator very much hates Starscream's attitude and sometimes just smacks him, but he still has that weird urge to not be viewed by him as a dork, so he'll really play up his act to seem "cool". He also gets sick enjoyment when Starscream finds himself in a pickle and goes running to him for help (when not mindwashed, he'll happily use this as an opportunity to be a brat).
So uh... It's a very messy non-relationship where both sides have completely different ideas of what is going on in the other's mind... Except for Soundwave, who's looking from the sidelines and thinking: "Not my circus, not my monkeys... 😑"
SIDE NOTE: Lol, yeah, I think I did pretty well in that piece. Devastator is a pain in the ass to draw, and I insist on always drawing full bodies. Glad it could be read as a baseball pose (it's a windup because he'd be a pitcher... Because he canonically has a good throwing arm... Trust.) Also, suspend your disbelief because he could never pose like that in a real-world scenario, no kidding.
#transformers#maccadam#fan continuity#constructicons#talkingtalkingtalking#starscream#devastator#they're so fucking childish omfg#the constructicons are hitting their heads against the concrete floor#I need to write something with them bc they're hilarious in my brain#But I don't have any solid excuses to put them together#well maybe random happenings in the battlefield or something#I don't know shit about baseball#might get into it to write my stupid headcanon more accurately#ONLY TWO PAIRS OF CHARACTERS HAD PAST ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIPS IN MY AU#Scrapper and Starscream didn't even love eachother#and they weren't fucking teenagers when they married#two impulsive and violent idiots get together = disaster relationship
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whatever happens, please don’t break
#god not a fucking DAY goes by where i don’t think of that one interview and this quote#does anybody have it word for word? please? i’ll pay you#literally every single time i think about how kunikida as w character was MADE for dazai. specifically to share his suffering#i actually sob into my hands because that means they were both destined for tragedy together and the long dark road they will walk#will at least not be lonely. because they have each other. they are each other’s light in the darkness.#DO YOU UNDERSTAND#bro the fact that kunikida is painfully aware of the imperfection of the world and how he still continues to fight for his ideals#paralleling dazai who finds humanity beautiful but cannot become attached bc he feels alienated from emotion#THE WAY THEY COULD HELP EACH OTHER????? SICK SICK SICK I AM SICK#i love kunikidazai sm i wish more ppl could see the potential#but some of you aren’t ready for the sheer perfection of their dynamic#also i’ve noticed that i am only capable of drawing dazai properly when it’s with kunikida what’s up with that 💀#and sorreyy i know their height difference isn’t THAT big but i didn’t realize until i was halfway into the coloring 😔💔#osamu dazai#dazai osamu#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#kunizai#lotus draws
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And maybe you'll be like "but if you don't trust businesses, how can you trust welfare?"
I fucking don't. My mom trying to get on food stamps fucked me up because a lady I never met without my permission got my SSN from my mom and started editing my files. My heart still races to this very second whenever I think about it, it kinda messed me up bad and I'll never ever ever see any kind of recourse
And I'm terrified that I'm gonna lose my medicaid just cause I inherited some money from my grandpa
And I've never even applied for disability cause it kinda doesn't matter finding out if I'd qualify or not cause of my depression, when the rules are so restrictive I don't know if I've even be allowed to keep my house
I do not fucking trust these things on a personal level. I feel like out of a lot of people I have the most to fear from them cause I'm on the edge of having things work, and that gets you punished
...but I need medicaid in order to have insurance (and when you strip out the finance side of medicaid, I love medicaid... they're honestly incredible insurance... I just... I just... dental is like 90% of why medicaid is so important to me, ever since I found out this state pays for it I've actually been able to do cleanings which is important to me cause I can't always get myself to brush)
And I think things like disability and food stamps are pretty damn important on a personal level, and honestly are also good for the economy cause they get people spending... it's practically a free cash infusion into the economy, cause these are people who need to buy stuff
There's just so much important stuff welfare does that it's worth dealing with government
No, what I want is more accountability so if someone gets my SSN from a 3rd party like my mom they're held to HIPPA styles standards where that's not ok to access my files without my permission (She changed my fucking address and tried to get medicaid to investigate me for fraud! Never even met me)
Like have some accountability there and in every situation
Secondly I want less punitive focused rules. I'd frankly prefer bezos get on disability than smack down some poor sod cause they got $2000 in the bank or cause their friend lets them live with them for free
If there's gonna be a cut off on these programs, it needs to be a solid step above the poverty line, cause... by definition I assume poverty line denotes kinda the minimum expected income people can reasonably live off of, and if you take away benefits people are gonna lose a chunk of money to covering that stuff themself, so you need a buffer before you kick people off
I don't fucking trust the government for a second, I've actively been fucked by them and on a personal level I avoid everything but medicaid and only that cause everything but the money is pleasant to deal with and I kinda need it (honestly if I was rich I'm not even kidding that I'd rather give medicaid like $400 a month than some insurance company, I sincerely like them as insurance)
But I'd trust them a lot more if they were less punitive, less out to hunt me down and gut me cause someone handed me a fiver or cause I started to get on my feet, and if government employees had concrete rules they had to follow that were actually transparent and enforced
Like 90% of my problems with welfare go away if they're held accountable and there's less "catch the welfare cheats" mentality going around
I don't trust the government in the slightest, but sadly there some jobs it kinda has to do, so I'd just rather force it to be an open book where the public can keep an eye on it and if they step out of line there's consequences (sort of like I don't trust most mega corps but happen to sometimes need stuff from them... did you know literally every cell service provider has been illegally selling shit like your location data to random people like bounty hunters, and the FCC just slapped them with a fine that's 0.02% of their yearly incomes and debated even doing that? I even can offer a source on that)
...I don't trust much of any authority cause they constantly fail me and kinda screw me. Don't trust doctors either, but I still gotta go to them, you know? ...they're just... they're real bad at listening... so many systems need systemic change
(You know who I really don't trust is the cops. I could point to so many examples. My uncle doesn't trust cops either, and he's an ex Fire and SWAT paramedic, he worked with them and we still got into a long conversation where he basically tore into them far better than I can)
(I don't trust authority that's not accountable)
#anyway; if I'm a lousy cheat or whatever least they can do is give me a gun so I can solve that problem#shit makes me wish I was canadian so I could take advantage of their sick implementation of assisted suicide#what should be a system that gives people a choice about the quality of their life; and I don't think should be relegated to terminal illne#...there was... think he was dutch; had been burned by his girlfriend all over his body; was in constant pain#and he ended up using assisted suicide in the end cause he was just in constant agony... think that's his choice to make#but of course the canadian system concretely pushes people; mostly the poor and disabled; to kill themselves#not theoretically; as in literally says word for word to them 'you should really kill yourself; just sign here'#it's sick; it truly is#but for any americans that want to dunk on it; I'm telling you we're no better#we have the exact same miserable desperation and people (again; mostly poor and disabled) into despair#only difference is we don't offer assisted suicide#the underlying issues in the US and canada are so damn similar; so much of what's happening ends up being the same#you can't act smug just cause you only make people want to die instead of also offering to help#that's like saying that you're the good guy cause while you did everything you could to drive someone to the brink#get them fired; slash their tires; just cartoon level villain stuff to personally harass this person... at least you won't hand them rope#we have such similar systemic issues to canada; and I am explicitly telling you that like the people in canada that have said#'I can't take it anymore; disability doesn't cover my expenses and I can't get any help... I'm at my wits end so I'm gonna go die'#I'm telling you that I feel that same way; just without any eugenics agency I can call up#I'm really working to get things stable; but it feels like I'm teetering on the edge of falling into permanent failure#and... and I'll actually tell you the amount even though I don't like to mention money... makes me feel guilty#my gramps left me $27k; which sounds like a lot; but I got 20 windows that need redoing (house has a lot of windows)#...if they ended up being 1k each; that's most of the money gone; if they end up being more...#and I got a whole lotta other stuff I've been putting off like plumbing around here; need to replace that faucet#it's an amount of money that helps; but it's an amount of money that isn't gonna last#...that's like a year of bills; and my mom already needs me to pay like $400 to the propane bill since she got behind#I want to use it to... to try and really get my feet on the ground; but it might loose me my insurance... it makes me want to die#and not to be a selfish bastard; but if I could I'd like to try and take and invest a bit to maybe build some passive income#given that... that a job never seems to work out for me cause I fucking suck and cause like... my insomnia has me up at 5:30 am right now#mm tag so i can find things later
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ok actually yeah. i really need to do dishes and go to bed and not stay up late mentalillnessposting a little too viscerally on tumblr the night before i facilitate a workshop in front of the literal president of the university and the vp of my division (LOL about that btw. actively shitting my pants.) but oh my GOD. so saying goodbye to lia was actually fine in the moment. neither of us cried and we talked about all the ways we’ll still be in each others lives and reasons we’ll have to interact in the near future. and she gave me an extremely heartfelt thoughtful gift and we left on a very hopeful note and i felt better and content bc there’s still the rest-of-life and we’ll see each other there. but like an hour before that as i mentioned i was HYSTERICALLY sobbing. in full view of people i know AND people i don’t. and i just sat there and sobbed while everything carried on around me. everything carried on around me!!! and i feel like im about to sob again thinking about it.
#purrs#delete later#idk. i typed a bunch here and then deleted it and now idk what to say. i just feel so lonely. i have had fucked up relationships with every#single older adult in my life and never had someone who could a) stay in my life b) be consistently present in my life c) meet my emotional#needs d) actually See me and accept me for who i am. Like not one person who can be all four of those things. and i have to be all four of t#those things for myself now because im 24 and i missed my chance. but how fucking shitty and painful is that? especially after a year like t#this. the way it’s literally ending the SAME way last year did. huge scary promotion (which i haven’t even talked about on here or to anyone#but lia today actually. but it might be huger and scarier than i thought. which is good but also HUGE -‘d scary. and not a bad thing of bc o#course but it’s so fucking… perilous? like it makes me feel profoundly imperiled because i have extremely good reason to feel that way. and#i have to endure the mortifying ordeal of applying for my own job AGAIN after the first time was so horrible. lol) and also losing a beloved#mentor figure who understood me in a way no one else did which mattered immensely even if they couldn’t do the whole presence thing or#whatever. and now i only have one older adult in my life left (aside from my therapist who doesn’t really count bc i only see her once a#week and we barely know each other still) who is like. here and helping me and i KNOW i am so sick in the head i KNOW and i should not be#writing it but every single day i am fucking terrified that i am being or will be separated from him emotionally or physically jsut like all#the others so. LOL!!!!! i am normal and well adjusted. but it’s like so fucking painful because im grasping at straws but again the reality#is im 24 and the only people on this earth who it is fair for me to expect all 4 from and who should’ve provided it to me are my parents.#and i missed my chance with them forever and now i have to do it myself. and that’s ok sometimes and i can handle it… except in the moments#where im sobbing hysterically and everything carries on. when i am in my darkest moments i want to run to an older adult and have them#comfort me but i truly cannot do that with any of the ones i still have left / regularly interact with for so many reasons. and it’s so#painful it makes me sick sometimes. and now i have to be the romy and the lia i wish to see in this world. but how can i do that when i#haven’t finished grieving over them leaving which feels like leaving ME — NOW — in this moment when i have never needed more support of that#kind more. how can isummon it within myself. im not ready yet. i need a long hug and a hand to hold that won’t (have to) let go. when im#crying i need someone to take me somewhere and comfort me and calm me down. and im 24 so i can’t ask for it. but oh my god i need it. and i#missed my chance. and lia left today and she only ever did that for me metaphorically but… tonight i feel more alone than ever.#and it’s like i don’t even have the emotional intelligence or whatever to ASK for that. bc im playing by ear and i don’t know how to read#the music of it. im self taught. that fucking sucks. that SUCKSSS. also that’s too strong a way to put it liek obviously my friends who are#closer to my age are INTEGRAL to me being able to function and i learn from them and cherish their support. but just like i can’t be a mom#to me my friends can’t either. so it’s like what the fuck do i do. get steamrolled by relentless grief and rage every day i guess.#also side note. everything carried on when i was in brighton too. i came home early ofc but it’s like nothing changed in my absence. and#that has fucked me up SUPREMELY. i think that might be a root of it. like hm… it seems my presence doesn’t have impacts. but idk
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Simon "Ghost" Riley is the kind of man who:
In your shared home, always sits with his legs spread. Manspreading king. Adores it when you cross your arms and give him a disapproving look, saying there's no room for you. "Course there is, luv. Jus' sit between my thighs."
Refuses to let you do simple tasks around the house, like making tea, folding his underwear, or putting away the dishes. One might think it's a sweet, husbandly gesture - but he's just super picky. You made tea in the microwave once, and now you're banned from ever touching his tea stash. Likes his underwear folded in a specific way, and you don't understand the importance of it. He got tired of you stuffing his underwear in his drawer, so now he folds it himself. And the dishes? Couldn't stand how you put them away. "There's no rhyme or reason to 'em." "I didn't think there had to be, Si-" "Just gimme the damn bowl." Fewer chores? You aren't complaining.
Looks like he's always on edge - and he is, kinda. When he's out with you, he can't help but be alert and watchful, and extremely protective of you. You've tried to get him to loosen up - it's the supermarket, what could happen? - but have just come to accept it as his nature. Plus, you get that giddy feeling when you see other men look straight down at the floor, avoiding Simon's stare as the two of you pass.
Is the grumpiest, poutiest, and most indignant man ever when he gets sick. Doesn't want you doting on him in case you catch whatever he has. But, wait - where are you going? "Get your ass back in this bed - 'm cold." Grumbles like a child when you force him to let you get up to grab him soup, tea, or medicine. And no, he doesn't care how sick he is, he's not wearing that stupid, floppy ice pack hat.
Brings Johnny over unannounced, and you've grown used to it. The moment you hear that Scottish yapping out the front door as the key unlocks, you grab a third plate for dinner - he insists you don't need to feed him, but you always make extra for Simon's lunch the next day regardless, and the last time he'd said that, he ended up grabbing an extra fork and picking from Simon's plate. Which, of course, had Simon up at 1 am making instant ramen because he was still hungry, but didn't have the heart to ask you to make him a decent meal. So, yes, Johnny would be fed.
Loves spoiling you on your birthday. What is a man if not someone who spoils his partner rotten? Orders in food from your favorite bakery, sets all your presents neat and nice on the table (the excellent wrapping job done by yours truly, Gaz), flower petals sprinkled on the ground and the table top (also Gaz's idea), and a seat on his lap so for you while you open your presents. Loves watching your face light up, and each little "you remembered?!" fall from your lips as you open each gift. Scoffs and shifts in his seat. "I's not that much of a fuss, luv..." as you squeal excitedly, but you know he's biting back a proud smile. The blush, he can't even attempt to hide.
Is somehow a magnet for your young nephews. Every time he comes along to your sister's place, he's either making conversation with her husband in the living room, or he's interrogated and cornered by her two sons. And, lord help him, he doesn't understand it either. He'd always expected kids to look at him like a monster, but, especially with these two, that was never the case. They'd ask him for stories about "being in war" - half of the time, he'd make up some not-too-gory adventure, sparing them the details of real war. The rest of the time, he'd talk about "Soap, my mate who blows everything up." And they'd listen with wide eyes and jaws on the floor.
Has scared you unintentionally, more than too many times. He'd come home at three in the morning from a mission, and all he wanted was to quietly peel his dirty uniform off and slip into bed with you. His main intention was to avoid waking you up, because you'd force him to shower before joining you in bed - and he was too tired for that. However, you'd been rounding the corner, up for your 3 am glass of water - you screamed as you saw the hulking, dark figure by the front door, launching your phone at him. He'd caught it effortlessly and shoved it into his back pocket. "What've I told ya 'bout using the bat?" "I was just getting water!" "I coulda been anyone." "Well you're not." "Missed ya, luvie." "Missed you too- but you're grimy. Go take a-" "No." He grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, ignoring your protests as he hauled you back to bed.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley#ghost#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost riley headcanons#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley headcanons#ghost x reader#ghost x you#ghost headcanons#call of duty#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#cod x reader#cod#cod blurbs
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Villain!Ghost x Pregnant!Wife!Reader
Synopsis: Your husband wants your company..
A/n: GUYS OMG, I know it's been 1 month and a little more since my last official work. I've been procrastinating on this for so long since I only have less than a week till school again.. Also everyone I love on this app is just disappearing, like @ghost-cyphera just deleted her account 4 days ago and I got the notif but didn't see it in time, I didn't even get to say goodbye. Just wanted to apologize to you guys after being gone for so long as well. Also, another villain!Ghost drabble? 👀
Finding it difficult to walk was one of the least things you've suspected you'd be concerned of upon conceiving, always needing your handmaiden's help in such a mundane task was shameful to say the least but your husband insisted.
If it hadn't been the hand maiden then it would've been him instead, you couldn't keep him from his duties from the kingdom as he carried even yours. Wanting you to turn your attention to the health of the babe growing in you and especially yourself..
"My lady.." you were pulled out of your thoughts by the voice of your handmaiden. You took in a breath from the cool air that blew on your face as you stood by the stone railing..
"Yes, Leticia?" You turned to her..
"The prince consort has requested your company.." Leticia announced, you nod as you removed your hand from the cold stone. You glanced once more to the people of your kingdom, going about their day and life before gently lifting yourself off from leaning on the stone.
Leticia offered you her arm to help you walk more efficiently..
...
"You sent for me..?" You asked your husband, he was sat and signing another set of documents and scrolls. You closed the door, palms gently pushing till you heard it click.
"No, I told them to announce my arrival to you. How dare they exert my wife by giving her false instructions.." he huffed to which you laughed. He wouldn't do anything violent about it, as he so usually does with staff that don't comply but he knew it'd upset you if anything gory were to happen to them.
"I am quite alright, I need to move around too. It's proven to be good for our child." You said, sitting next to the graciously comfortable chair next to his working desk that he had someone make for you.
You felt relief from the pressure previously on your back, hand on the bump of your stomach and with that a sigh came from your lips. Peacefully watching your husband, the sound of the satisfying scratching of the quill on the crisp papers.
You felt his hand grasp yours, he pulled it, lips resting on the back. His affection made your heart beat faster and he felt it, the pad of his index finger on your wrist. The thumping made him chuckle as you smiled and leaned your head on his shoulder.
"You should rest for a while, my love. You'd work yourself to sickness at this point." You kiss his cheek softly. He put his quill down, "If that's my wife wants.." he said.
He wrapped his arm around you, the other hand placed on your baby bump. His thumb gently rubbing, you jolted a bit feeling a strong kick..
It made you groan, how restless the rascal is. Your husband adjusted his hand to feel the next kick.. he'd swear it was a girl, not that he'd care for that sort of thing. He'd kill for them either way, especially for you. He could stare at you all day, swollen with his child.
How glowing you looked wrapped in the finest silk and the gold and jewels in your hair and body clicking upon contact with another piece, he wished he could tell you how utterly speechless you'd leave each man by just walking passed them but to him no word is enough to describe you.
At least he could spend these small intimate moments with just you and you alone, free of the world for even just a few minutes as he needed a break from the work he very much was eager to do to be able to receive praise from his wife..
My CoD Masterlist
Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle
#cod x reader#aethelwyne lia writes#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#Our Throne of Ruin#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon ghost#simon riley call of duty#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon ghost fluff#ghost x female reader#ghost x plus size reader#ghost x y/n#simon riley cod#dad!ghost#villain au#royalty au#fantasy au#cod au#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#princess!reader
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Fever
Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 4.7K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK
A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met.
His dark, curly hair.
His mustache.
His sweet brown puppy dog eyes.
His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio.
Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact.
Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was.
That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating.
And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible.
You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head.
God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up.
As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed.
Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he-
“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up.
“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window.
“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.”
And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response.
“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts.
“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal.
“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-”
Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg
“Who the fuck is calling me this early…”
Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer.
“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.”
“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment.
“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.”
“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him.
“Yo prometo (I promise).”
Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain.
You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core.
While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating. You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you.
After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent.
Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them.
“What the fuck is wrong with me today…” You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life.
It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day.
You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.
As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance.
Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath.
“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!”
Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it.
Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome.
“H-hi baby. Everything okay?”
“Mhmmmmmm.”
“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion.
“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other.
“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest.
“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.”
Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you.
“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you.
“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-”
This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.
As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first.
“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft.
“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs.
“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?”
Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.”
For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust. Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.”
Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed.
“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.
“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension.
“Fucking right it is.”
His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him.
You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation.
Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved.
“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone.
“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.”
And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point.
“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-”
In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue.
You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand.
“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone.
“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.
“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point.
“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.”
“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.”
If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be.
“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.”
Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls.
Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck.
Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.
“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours.
Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him.
As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you.
“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses.
The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal.
“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.
“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.”
Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he.
“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”
Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again.
“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.”
That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.
“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!”
As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy.
“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!”
With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other.
After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him.
His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take.
Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight.
“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child.
“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip.
“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?”
“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?”
“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?”
“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.”
“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow.
“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband.
“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”
Taglist:
@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine
@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24
@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85
@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo
@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise
@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled
@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog
@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr
@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild
@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog
@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#narcos fanfiction#pedro pascal character#javier pena imagine#madeline's mail#javi pena#javi peña x reader#javier pena#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fic#javier pena fluff#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier pena x you#javier peña#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#joel miller smut#pedro pascal narcos#jose pedro balmaceda pascal#pedrohub
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could you please write something with bombshell reader and spencer where there is a misunderstanding and she thinks he is cheating on her?? or anything angsty? love your work and just want to tell you how you are the best author in this fandom! besos <333
thanks so much, hope this is okay! fem, 1.2k
You bend forward and breathe.
Rough breathing. Audibly disjointed, and panicked, and drawing attention. You clasp at the side of the counter in the office kitchen and everyone standing around you goes silent.
Someone must tell someone who tells someone, because Anderson makes his way to your side soon after. “Y/N, do you need me to get someone?” he asks.
“Hotch?” you ask.
“Sure. Do you want to sit down?”
Your mouth isn’t calibrated to your mind. Your answer takes time. “I’m okay.”
You blink hard. Your lashes are sticky, mascara wet in the corners and pulling on each other as you force yourself to keep them open. When Hotch collects you, it is with an immense tenderness, and a poorly concealed confusion. “Hey, come on,” he says, guiding you toward the office doors, “let’s find somewhere quieter.”
You’re three steps down the hallway when you stop. You cover your face with both hands.
Your entire world just got rocked… you don’t even know how to say it. You can’t stop seeing it, his hand on her shoulder, his head tilted to one side like he always does with you, like he’s going to kiss her cheek. And she’d just let him do it.
“What happened?”
“They were kissing.”
Hotch looks down at you patiently. “Who?”
“Spencer and JJ.” You swallow down bile. Your voice sounds far away, “They were so close…”
“Are you sure?”
“No… Just, it looked like they were. She had her arms around him, he…”
You blink hard again, but the panic, the agony remains. You could see it, Spencer kissing her, and it just tore you to pieces right then and there. How could he do that to you? The stereotypical you’d always expected to be above races through your head. Weren’t you too much to lose?
“They were too close,” you say more firmly.
“Alright,” Hotch says softly. Then, because he’s your friend, even if you’ve thrust him into an awkward position. “I can work this out for you, if you want. I can kill him for you if necessary.”
“That’s not funny,” you say, because even if it were, it’s way too soon.
“I’m not joking. If Spencer ever did that to you, I’d… well, I wouldn’t hurt him, but he would lose my respect, and he would lose yours. Do you believe Spencer would put that at risk?”
“You think I’m overreacting.”
Hotch gives you a look. Full Hotchner. Understanding, patient, a little humorous. “I honestly can’t imagine a world where Spencer does something that would hurt you, that’s all. I’m not trying to mock you. I’m not saying you can’t be upset.”
You realise after a few deep breaths that he was trying to drive you from a panic attack, and he did it successfully. You swallow a nervous lump.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I think I can kill him.”
“I don’t doubt it. Do you want to?”
“Depends on what I saw,” you mutter, turning away from the glass office doors as they open.
“Well… perhaps you can–”
“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” Spencer interrupts, breathless as he slides around Hotch and takes your arm in his hand. “Angel, I need your help, urgently. JJ’s earring got caught in my hair, I’m pretty sure I’m bald.”
You squint at him, still a little breathless yourself.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, looking between you and Hotch with regret. “What’s wrong? You look sick.”
“What did JJ do?” you ask.
“Angel?”
He squints. When you fail to offer a reason, he tips his head down to show you the top of his head. “Am I bald? She dropped her pencil case and I tried to grab it, and she yanked back. I tried to stop her from ripping it out, but she said I had to stop being a big baby.”
He laughs. Hotch lets out an audible breath.
“I’m hideous,” Spencer surmises from your silence.
“I didn’t really look.”
Spencer looks at Hotch. “Can you tell me what’s wrong? Please?”
You send Hotch a look that says please, don’t.
“I just felt a bit panicked,” you confess, a half truth to spare your dignity.
“I brought her out here for some quiet,” Hotch says.
Spencer frowns and holds your arm again with more softness. “You did? Are you feeling better now? You know, the sudden onset of panic is often caused by a process called overbreathing, have you felt that happen to you recently? It’s accidental hyperventilation. Low carbon dioxide in the blood.” His frown deepens. “Unless it’s not that. Are you worried about something?”
You watch as his hand glides further up, his thumb rubbing into the soft fat of your upper arm.
“Worried about your hairline,” you mumble.
Look, you’ll tell Spencer eventually, maybe. But for now your head hurts and you really had almost spun yourself into an anxiety attack, and you need the rest, and meeting his eyes isn’t easy.
If he were lying about the earring, you’d be able to tell. If he’d kissed JJ, the guilt would be pouring off of him.
“I can trust you to look after her?” Hotch asks.
“When can’t you?” Spencer asks sincerely.
Footsteps. A door opening.
You and Spencer alone, his voice warm with concern. “Are you okay? Really okay?”
“Can you hug me?”
“Sure I can.” He slips his arms through yours and pulls you in. “Do you need something? Listening to music can help, I have my headphones on my desk. Or we can just– walk.” His hand spread wide over your shoulder. “You’re shaking.”
“I am?”
“Just a little…”
You try your best to stand completely still.
“Oh,” he says softly, pulling you with more force toward his chest, “I’m sorry, I had no idea you weren’t feeling okay today. But it’ll be okay, I promise. I got you.”
It’s not often you feel like the smaller person in your relationship, and he doesn’t make you feel small, but the depth of his promise gives him this bigness that dulls the panic. Spencer… he really wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. You aren’t at fault for thinking they were too close, but there’s an explanation, and for now that’s enough to make you feel better.
“How much hair did she rip out, sweetheart?” you murmur, leaning back just far to see his face, not wanting to disturb the stable quiet. “Does it hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. Honestly I’m more worried about you than my hair.”
“Can I explain it to you later?”
“You’ll sleep over?” he asks, lips thinning into a smile.
“Yeah.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he says.
You close your eyes as he cups your face with both hands. Later, when you tell him, he isn’t offended, just sorry. Necessary or not, he apologises and holds you with so much tenderness you’re assured again that Spencer hurting you would only ever be an accident.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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outlaw
𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: you wish there would be a time you could call your life boring again. before all the mess, before the town fell apart, before your father disowned you. before jeong yunho. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jeong yunho x f!reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11.1k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: wild west theme, cowboy!yunho, bartender!reader 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: praising, claiming, dacryphilia, marking, size kink, oral, unprotected sex, outdoor sex
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: violence, weapons, alcohol consumption, murder, slight gore, attempted SA 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: django performance might be the reason why i switched from hongjoong to yunho after four years of being loyal. NOT PROOFREAD I AM IMPATIENT I HAD TO POST IT BEFORE GOING TO BED! <3
𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.
"another one, sweetheart."
i'm not your sweetheart, you wanted to mutter. but you bit your tongue, remembering that your father is somewhere in the room. so you have no other choice but to approach the loud, messy table, and pour the greasy dirty man another glass of whatever alcohol you had in hand. it didn't matter anymore, as long as it filled his stomach.
"that's a good girl," he roars with laughter, heavy hand landing on your bottom and making you jolt.
your eyes seek your father, silently asking for help. but no help comes. instead, he points to a different table that demands attention, and leaves the saloon. you stand still, voices muffling around you. your neatly put bun is now falling apart, strands loose on your face and sticking due to sweat, your clothes are heavy on you, and your hands will soon start shaking if you don't take a break from all the work. from early mornings, to even earlier ones the next day, you are destined to be a servant on your own father's property. you wonder if this will last forever. pouring alcohol, dodging flying chairs and tables, taking the harassment so you can survive for another month.
if this really is your future, then what is the point of living? will he marry you off to one of these men? or will he keep you as his servant until the end of his days? you remember the day everything changed for you. you had just come back from the city, finishing the school day. barely a teen, hand in hand with your best friends. your father sat you in the empty saloon, putting his hands on your shoulders.
"you're quitting school."
just a month after you buried your mother, he told you that. there was nobody to help him, he had to fire his staff, and laid his trust into you. the business was crazy that week. who wouldn't want to come and see the owner's little daughter serving alcohol? those men congratulated your father on your birth, watched you play on the street, went to your mother's funeral and wailed with you, came to the saloon to see you struggle with bottles and glasses, only later to have their filthy hands all over you as soon as you turned eighteen. it doesn't stop, no matter how many times you ask. the pleading only makes them do it more, those sick bastards. and each one of them have a wife waiting at home, and a child comforting her.
"hey, bitch, over here!"
monday was a peaceful day. no work, not at the saloon at least. but a basket full of dirty old clothes awaits by the door, waiting to be washed. it is a cold autumn morning, the sun very low in the sky and not warming at all. you drag your feet across the field, hands red from the weight of the basket and the frost. your dress catches onto various branches and bushes, but you do not look back. you need to be done before noon, so you can make lunch for your father.
reaching the river, you drop the basket on the dying grass. a few flowers are still scattered here and there, fighting their way through the cold morning dew. as you scrub your father's shirt on the washboard, you notice just how old those clothes have gotten. you both need new ones, you cannot be walking around looking like the poorest people in town, while owning a saloon. but your father sees no value in those things. talking to him is like talking to a wall that might hit you if you say something it doesn't like. so you keep your mouth shut.
the used, thin washboard suddenly snaps under your hands, a piece of wood jamming into your skin and making you yelp. your skin being almost frozen from being in cold water, and then getting pierced, makes you finally break down. you hug your knees to your chest, and bury your head into the muddy dress. you're cold, in pain, and you miss your mother. your friends. the life you had, and the life you were supposed to have.
sometimes, you selfishly blamed your mother for dying. if she was still here, you could've had a life just like your friends. finding a job in the big city, a man too, a decent one. not this.
you hide your hands in the ruffles of your worn out dress, seeking warmth. you cannot go back home without washing the rest of the clothes, and the sun is rising faster than you want it to. noon will come by soon, and you will have two tasks unfinished. your father won't be pleased.
a distant neigh and galloping have your attention, your head curiously turning to see who it could be. your heart almost sinks when you see the speed the horses are headed at towards you, but with legs and bum frozen on the ground, you cannot move. all you can do is close your eyes in defeat, hoping for the best.
the gallop stops, now switching to a trot. you open your eyes, and see two shiny horses in front of you. the two men riding them dismount, one of them standing next to his horse and taking the leash from the other one. the taller man adjusts his hat, gaze fixed on the floor, and fastens his holster. you gulp, seeing the shiny revolver resting on his hip. then, he raises his head to finally look at you. you almost forget the potential danger of the situation once you look at his brown eyes. he is tall. very tall. and absolutely gorgeous. you look away, suddenly aware of how you look. heavens, what a perfect timing.
"oh, it's just a doe." he says, voice soft and sweet. he tilts his head, trying to get you to look at him. when you don't, he takes a step closer to you, careful not to scare you away. "came for a morning refreshment?"
you don't respond. instead, you look at the man behind him. he stands still, leashes in his hands. his clothes are a bit more rugged than the ones on the man in front of you, but it fits his image very well. then, your eyes betray you end lay on the man in front of you again. he wears a brown leather jacket with fringes, dark blue jeans, and matching brown boots. his brown hat sits perfectly on his head, giving him a mysterious look. he notices you staring, and only chuckles softly. he reaches into his saddlebag, retrieving something wrapped in a white cloth.
"hungry?"
this time, your stomach is the one that betrays you. it decides to grumble as soon as you shake your head no, making the man chuckle again.
"go on, you can have it. you look like you need it."
he holds it out for you to take, closing the distance further. you step back, remembering your father's words.
"no speaking to other men outside of the saloon. if i see you do that, i will personally declare you a whore. nobody will want to marry you, and you'll be alone for the rest of your life."
charming. the man doesn't give up, as he steps further towards you. you step back again, hunger, fear and curiosity fighting inside of you and making you sick to your stomach.
"it's alright. it's just food, i don't mean you any harm."
but he doesn't know what words ring inside your head. taking another step back, your heart almost stops once again. you have stepped into the shallow river, your body losing balance following. the handsome cowboy drops the item on the floor, and firmly grabs your waist and pulls you back to stand on the grass. you instinctively grab onto his shoulders for support, and he pulls your body into his. you breathe out when your chest collides with his, overwhelmed by the situation.
"clumsy girl," he teases.
you can't make yourself move, not only because you don't want to, but because his grip is firm on your waist. he safely moves you away from the water and removes one hand from your body, only to move the loose strands of hair from your face.
"wyatt," he calls.
the other man steps towards the two of you, not uttering a word.
"you go on. i'll catch up with you."
without protest, he gets on his horse, nods towards his companion, then gallops away. you are left alone with the ridiculously handsome cowboy, now feeling a bit warmer than a few moments ago. the man finally lets go of you, picking up the cloth from the ground. a distant thunder surprises you, and you look over at the scattered clothes. the black clouds over the mountains are covering the blue sky quite fast, and it just seems at this moment that everything is working against you.
you hurriedly collect the remaining dirty clothes, crouching down and brushing it against the half of the washboard as best as you can. your hand is in pain, still dripping red, but your father's consequences are more painful. you'd rather have a hundred more splinters ripping your skin than your father slapping you across the face like he is used to.
the man lets you finish, turning his attention to the horse. in the corner of your eye, you see him caressing the horse's mane. the animal leans into his hand, enjoying the comfort of his warm and caring touch. he looks so tough, yet his actions are a complete opposite.
"if you're done staring, you can join me."
caught red handed, and red cheeked, you turn around to see him sat under the nearby tree, opening the white cloth. he sets it on the ground near him, and folds his arms across his chest. you pick up the now clean clothes, the broken washboard forgotten and floating somewhere further down the field. you sit next to him, the food serving as an imaginary border. he takes his hat off, putting it over his face and rests his head against the tree.
"if you're embarrassed to eat in front of me. now i won't look. eat. please."
and you do. you take a bite of the biscuit, enjoying it like it's your first one ever. you take the chance now that he doesn't see anything to properly look around. his horse is gorgeous, white with brown legs and head. you then look at its owner, still chewing on the biscuit. the more you look at him, the more your stomach feels all fuzzy. is this what it feels like to be attracted to a man? are you finally experiencing a crush?
you should really get home.
thunder grumbles again, causing the horse to become restless.
"shh, you're good." the cowboy says soothingly, not moving from his spot. and the horse listens.
it soothes you too, because you lean against the tree like him, and silently eat. your breathing matches his, and for a moment, you think that he has fallen asleep. until you start feeling drops of rain on your head. you don't say anything. you don't really need to, because the man interrupts his short break by standing up and putting his hand out for you to take. you take it, your hand melting into his as he helps you up. his touch is secure, and gentle. nobody has ever held you this way, and you are afraid you might get used to it. he leads you to his horse, throwing his spare jacket your way.
"i'll take you home."
"no!"
the cowboy scrunches his eyebrows, and abruptly turns towards you. his hand doesn't leave yours, no matter how hard you pull. "she speaks." he says, as if he made an important discovery.
you shake your head frantically, repeating yourself. "no, you can't."
"why?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
"because."
"that's not a valid answer, sunshine."
if your stomach wasn't turning from the difficult situation you have found yourself in, it would turn from the simple nickname coming from his mouth. you aren't quite sure whether you're feeling nervous because of your father, or because of the handsome stranger. you remember that he is just a stranger, no matter in how much awe he has you. if you get on his horse, he could take you anywhere. but if you don't get on his horse, he could simply tie you up and take you with him anyway.
fuck.
"i like to walk." you blurt out, grabbing the basket of clothes and holding it in front of you, as if shielding yourself from him.
"lies."
"please, just leave me alone. thank you for the food, and for, well, not letting me fall into the water, but-"
"does he beat you every day?"
he says it with a tone so serious it has your blood going cold in your veins. his gaze becomes stone cold, dark, and it pierces right through you. seeing your distressed face, he steps towards you again, moving your hair away from your neck. the bruise you thought you so cleverly hid now uncovered in front of him. funny how a potentially dangerous stranger shows more interest in it than the town.
"or only when you do something wrong?"
"i don't see how that's any of your business."
"it isn't. however, if you want it to stop, you might have to make it my business."
you wish for nothing more than for it to stop. but exactly how does this man plan to make it his business? talk to your father? teach him a lesson? or the worst?
"i'll tell you what. i'll bring you just to the hill so nobody sees us, and you think about what i said until then."
you nod, defeated. you really need to get home as quick as possible and get started on the lunch. the cowboy helps you up on the horse, then climbs behind you. this is the closest you've ever been to a man, and if you weren't sneakily reading those short romance stories in the back of the discarded newspaper, you would think that you are becoming ill by how hot your cheeks feel. when he grabs the leash, also helping you hold the basket in the process, you take your time to admire his hands. pretty pale fingers, slightly muddy from maybe hours or days of riding. he smells of whiskey, vanilla and a hint of tobacco. you allow yourself a moment of weakness, closing your eyes and inhaling the scent. it doesn't help the way his warm chest and torso are pressed against your back, rubbing against you with each horses gallop.
when you open your eyes, you are disappointed to see the hill. it means that the short little adventure with the mystery cowboy has come to an end, and that you might never see him again. it's all up to you. and you hate that.
he helps you down, then fixes the ruffles of your dress that were slightly turned upwards from riding while you are occupied with the clothes in the basket.
"well?" he finally says, seeing that you have no intention of speaking first.
"i'll be fine." you lie.
you almost miss the way he bites the inside of his cheek from disappointment. almost. he nods, understandingly, and approaches you. for the last time, maybe. he takes your hand in his, thumb rubbing over the place where your splinter is. "take care of that. wouldn't want such pretty hands to be in pain or have a scar."
he kisses the back of it, eyes not once leaving yours. you almost shiver, from the cold and from his touch.
"thank you for your company, dove. we must part ways now, but i do hope i see you again one day. you are too pretty to forget."
he takes his hat off to say his goodbye, then climbs back on his horse. with a sweet smile and a nod, he gallops away. you stand there and watch, heart swelling with sadness. you watch and watch, until he becomes just a small little dot in the distance.
weeks pass, and your life dynamic does not change. you still serve drunk perverts, avoid sexual offers, cook, and freeze yourself by the river. only now, you wake up earlier than usual, and keep looking at your surroundings in hopes of seeing a familiar brown hat. but you never see it. it's been almost two months, and not a single sign from him. maybe for the best. he did look like bad news. very handsome bad news.
you currently sit in a dark corner in the saloon, reading last weeks newspaper for the romance update on the last page. the appearance of the main character morphs into the cowboy in your head. no longer short, blonde haired with blue eyes and bulk figure, but dark haired with a short mullet, with brown eyes and a slender figure. you didn't even catch his name, yet you shamelessly daydream about him.
the doors of the saloon aggressively swing, startling you and breaking your bubble. you turn the newspaper upside down, hiding your little secret. a young man, known as denver, stands at the entrance, face pure horror. your father approaches him, putting his hands on his shoulders to calm him down.
"what's wrong, boy?"
denver barely gets his sentence out, before countless gallops are heard outside, accompanied with various screams. "he's here."
"who is?"
"the stallion."
you have never seen your father scared. and that scared you even more. he took a step back, abandoning the young man. the saloon became a mess, everyone pushing each other on the way to the exit, but suddenly coming to a halt. you stand up, taking your place behind the bar. the people are stepping back, slowly, still facing towards the doors. they separate in two groups, making way for the intruder. and when your eyes land on the intruder, you swear your heart could jump right on the bar in front of you.
your cowboy, your mystery man, the man you prayed you'd see again, stands in your saloon. drenched in blood and dust, sweaty, and with a revolver in his hand. the look on his face when he sees you tells you that you weren't meant to see him in this state. but he doesn't say anything. instead, he approaches the bar, along with his companions. they are all a mess, but not as much as him.
"good day, darling."
your stomach twists again, and you have to fight the urge to smile. you can't smile, not when everyone around you is terrified. you clear your throat, collecting any stray thoughts before speaking. "good day, sir."
"two rooms. and two bottles of whiskey waiting for me tonight." he says, a sweet smile on his lips.
"uh, yes-"
"there are no rooms available for you." your father interrupts, making his way to the bar.
the cowboy raises his eyebrow, then looks at your father. "oh?"
"yes. so i'm afraid you'll have to call it a day here."
the young man chuckles, eyes returning to your face. he throws a roll of money on the counter, then pushes is towards your father with his stained revolver. "don't be afraid, we won't."
you feel caged by his gaze, afraid to even move. why are you here, you wanted to ask. and why do you look like that. his clothes might look different, but the look on his face when he looks at you stays the same. in the corner of your eye, you notice someone trying to exit sneakily. but the cowboy also seems to catch it, because he points his trusted weapon toward the ceiling and-
"argh!" the woman screams, pure fear painted on her face.
"nobody leaves, until i get two fucking rooms and two bottles of whiskey. have i made myself clear?" he slams the revolver on the counter, causing you to jolt and step back. "now, if your pretty little daughter said that i can have them, just why the fuck are you meddling?"
defeated, your father takes the money, then nods your way. "show them."
alone?, you wanted to ask. but your tongue feels swollen, and your jaw heavy. you don't say anything. instead, you look at the fearsome cowboy, then proceed upstairs. the three of them follow, not uttering a word. you reach the rooms, opening the doors for them to see. the cowboy nods towards the room, sending them a signal to go in. when the two finally close the door, the dark haired man wastes no time in softly pinning you against the wall, just between the two doors.
"there, there. are you that scared of me, sunshine?"
you swear your eyes couldn't get any wider, and you hate it. you must look like a freak to him. but if you do, he doesn't show any disgust. he removes your hair from your neck once again, letting it fall down your back. his knuckles caress the now yellow spot on the neck, the bruise slowly healing.
his eyes shift from the bruise to your eyes, his gaze softening. "not excited to see me?"
you gulp, figuring which words to use. you are, and you are not. you don't even know.
"that's okay."
his other hand find its spot on the back of your head, slightly tilting it so that the injured side of the neck is more exposed. you feel his warm breath against your skin, growing hotter and closer. you finally let out a noise, it being a whimper rather than a proper word or sentence. soft lips graze your skin, before his tongue delicately swipes across your bruise. your stomach has never felt fuzzier, and your head is in the clouds. all those butterflies you felt while reading the newspaper have now turned into a volcano, waiting to erupt any second. the cowboy continues giving attention to your now sensitive neck, having you tremble in his arms.
he notices, putting his other hand on your waist and pushing you further into the wall, silently ordering you to stay still. he leans his own body into you, warm sensation enveloping you and causing you to moan into his ear.
realizing your horrible mistake, your hands quickly find their way to his firm chest, in an attempt to push him away. but instead, your fingers grip the fabric of his ruined leather jacket, and your head falls completely in his control. his hand massages your scalp, all while his tongue never leaves you. he switches from tender kisses, to kitten licks, and if he doesn't stop soon, you might just drip all over the floor and his shoes.
as if he heard you, he delivers one final kiss, before he pulls away. "i'll see you downstairs at dinner. thank you for the room, dove. and for the lunch."
hearing the door slam shut, you can finally breathe normally. you are left to tremble against the wall, your neck and underwear wet, all because of him. you rush to one of the empty rooms, at the end of the hallway. you lock it, then toss yourself on the bed. you waste no time in flipping your dress over, your fingers finding the soft folds between your legs. you gasp, more at the state of it than the feeling. you are soaked, your fingers almost slipping from your folds.
you spend a worrying amount of time trying to please yourself somehow, but the buildup is just growing and growing, not giving any signs of erupting soon. no matter how much you picture your handsome cowboy, just a few doors away.
and you don't even know his name.
"did he touch you?"
"what?!"
"i'm serious. did he do anything to you?"
"father-" since when do you care? "he didn't!"
he continues to follow you while you serve the guests, asking questions and demanding to know the truth. "did he say anything?"
"like?"
"anything."
"he asked for a prostitute and i said i'm available tonight."
smack.
nobody turns, already used to your father's free will. you bite the inside of your now stinging hot cheek, wishing for nothing more than to hit him with the bottle of gin you had in your hand.
"fucking slut. just like your mother. give me that." he yanks the tray from your hands, causing two glasses to fall and shatter. "pick that up, and go to the stables."
"but it's dinner time-"
"judith will help me. go. now."
not only do you end up not eating yourself, but you don't see the man whose lips you're still feeling on you. maybe that's why your father told you to leave, just so you don't see him. is it possible that he knows today isn't the first time you see the cowboy?
you search for his horse, the one you thought was the prettiest one you've seen. but it's not in the stable.
"it got shot. he had to put her down." slowly getting used to sudden intrusions, you turn around. one of his companions sit on a block of hay.
"oh." is all you manage to say.
"a shame, really. especially because she was a present from his wife."
"what?" you turn around, the bucket of carrots falling from your hands.
"ah, he didn't tell you? why would he. he wouldn't be able to get into your pants if you knew he was married. haven't you noticed something shiny on his finger?"
no, no you haven't. because you were so mesmerized by his face and behavior you didn't question whether he has someone waiting for him at home. besides, a married man wouldn't... touch you the way he did?
"ah, poor thing. you thought he had a thing for you? you don't compare to his wife. he's an outlaw after all, our yunho. his wife is a perfect match for him, almost a female version of him. did you know that the bounty on her head is higher than his?"
you feel like you could throw up. from multiple reasons. you let a married man touch you. hell, you touched yourself to a married man. not just an ordinary man, but an outlaw? what if his wife finds out? is she really that dangerous? will you be next on her victim list? not able to contain the emotions any longer, you run to the corner, bending over the blocks of hay and puking on the floor.
"ah, there, there. i'm quite surprised, that was the calmest reaction yet. other women tend to jump at his throat immediately."
other women? the ground sways under your feet, threatening to crumble and swallow you.
"since you're not in a state to speak, i'll answer all the questions in your head. have a seat, please."
you finally take a good look at the man once you sit down, seeing him stand up in front of you. he's no less handsome than the cowboy, yunho, and he is older. but the somewhat evil smirk on his face is off putting. you hold the now empty bucket in your lap, carrots laying on the ground for the horses to feast on. just in case you feel sick again.
"see, while yunho does love his dear wife, she can be a bit of a handful for him. too... dominant for him, one could say. so he seeks submissiveness in other women, just like you. women who are the opposite to lori, women who are, well, nothing. much like you."
his words shoot at your heart, and you know he is right. it just feels disappointing to hear it out loud. were you really a nothing?
"he sleeps with them and whatever, and kindly robs them while they sleep from exhaustion. the rest of us do the same with others, not to worry. it's rude to exclude, don't you think? you know, you should really pay more attention to that notice board next to your house. my head is the third one from the left, right under the mighty stallion."
"why would you tell me this? what's in it for you?"
"my, you speak! what's in it for me? nothing, if i'm being honest. i just happen to be aware of the treatment your father gives you, and i guess the years are starting to catch up to me. i think i feel pity."
"you're going to ask for something in return, aren't you?"
"clever girl, you are." he crouches in front of you, cupping your cheek and caressing it with his thumb. "give me what you wanted to give yunho."
"i didn't want to-"
"you think i'm dumb? like you? i know that if he had only asked you, you would've jumped in his bed right away. therefore, i tell you, give me what i ask."
"no."
the older man scoffs, then stands up again. his hand remains on your cheek, but his thumb stops caressing it. he removes it, only to bring it back with a slap. losing balance, you fall on the ground. the man doesn't give you any time to process what just happened, grabbing you by your shoulders and throwing you on the pile of hay. you open your mouth, letting out a scream that gets cut off by his lips on your mouth. they feel greasy, reeking of onion and beef, not remotely close to yunho's.
your hands are trapped above your head, his hand holding it in place while his other one struggles with the layers of your dress and apron. you kick, as fast and hard as you can, but you only manage to piss him off. he pulls away, only to spit in your face.
"i bet you wouldn't give yunho a hard time like this. why do all women have to be so difficult? all i want to do is make you feel good, baby."
tears stream down your face, words stuck in your throat. even though nothing is blocking your mouth anymore, you don't speak.
"you know, if you just let me... i'd get rid of your father for good. i could take you with me, i'd make you feel good any time you ask. i could-"
his words are left hanging in the air, and you feel hot liquid splash over your face. the shooting noise catches up to you right after the man's body falls on you, lifeless. you finally scream, lungs hurting from the amount of it. your hands fly to your face, wiping off the liquid and staring at it. red drips down your hands, onto your neck, pure terror filling your body as you realize you have someone's remains all over you. short and fast breaths leave your mouth, chest compressed under his heavy figure. it is not until another figure pulls him off you, and puts his hand over your mouth with hushing noises.
"it's alright, love." you recognize the voice as wyatt's, who then helps you up. "hey, you're fine."
you're not. you do not know who to trust. then again, when you don't trust your own father, why bother?
"let's get you washed."
after splashing your face with cold water and wiping it with his handkerchief, wyatt helps you to the back entrance of the saloon, then goes back to the stables. probably to finish the business.
you find yourself laying in the guest bed again, only this time, the sheets aren't wet from arousal, but from tears. you spend at least two hours, eyes fixed on the wooden ceiling . you feel dirty, still feeling his dirty hands all over you. your fingers hesitantly touch your face, afraid that you'll stain them red again. your dress and apron still have droplets of now brown liquid. is this what yunho does? is that why he looked the way he did when he entered the saloon? only the blood on his clothes was still red, still very fresh.
if what the dead man said was true, then you best stay out of the cowboy's way. and just like that, your secret little romance story has turned into a horror one.
the next few days, you don't see yunho much. you see the prostitutes coming down from the top floor, sometimes two or three of them at a time. and you are disgusted. you only see him at breakfast, from afar, and he doesn't show much interest in approaching you. his companions surround him, making the frown on his face bigger every day. were they discussing the strategy of robbing the town? was there something in their way?
for a split second, the man catches your gaze. his eyes soften, and you swear you could see a faint smile on his lips. but you couldn't return it. not when you know the intentions behind it. the soft look is replaced by confusion, which grows even bigger when you only spare him an ice cold glance and move on with your work.
saturday evening, the saloon is full. it is foggy, reeks of cigarettes and alcohol, and is loud. you don't see him or his crew yet, and you are thankful for it. at least one evening of peace. so far.
"it's kind of disappointing, you know? i mean, the sex is amazing. well, you know. you had him yesterday. but it's so sad that the town fears him and wants him dead. wouldn't mind having a piece of that every day. my body is burning, and it's been two days, but i still want more."
"i know, right? what a shame. i wish he'd stick around longer. i don't know about you, but i love that thrill of knowing that he's an outlaw. a wanted man, a gorgeous wanted man, having his way with me? i don't think anything will top that. i mean, did you see his-"
"another drink?" you interrupt, not able to listen anymore.
they giggle among each other before handing you the downed glasses. the saloon quiets down when they hear thuds coming from the stairs. you regret looking up, eyes immediately locking with familiar brown ones. everyone seems to watch their step, ready to get up and free a table if yunho desires it. oh, the amount of power he holds. that isn't supposed to make you feel some type of way. you're supposed to hate him.
but how, when he approaches you so politely, tucking that loose piece of hair that's been bothering you all evening behind your ear. such a simple gesture, which awakes the oceans in you, and probably means nothing to him. just a foreplay, before he finally cages you and fulfills his plans.
slowly, but surely, the music goes on. the people are relaxed once they see yunho doesn't have any thirst for blood tonight.
"gin."
"right away."
the night goes on, with you tending to everyone. and the cowboy follows you with his eyes, so much that the two women at the bar near him start throwing themselves at him just to get his attention.
"say, when are we going to have fun again?"
"yeah, stallion. did you forget us already?"
yunho chuckles, seeing you approach the other side of the bar and mouth their words with a mocking face. you hear him, raising your head enough to look at him. caught red handed, you only awkwardly press your lips in a thin line, continuing to wash the dirty glasses.
"you were never really ones to remember," yunho simply says, bringing the glass to his lips and downing the drink in one go.
he stands up, not sparing the women a glance even after they audibly gasp and start murmuring among each other. he approaches your father, saying something into his ear, then looks at you once again before disappearing upstairs.
"here," a clean washcloth lands on the bar counter by the end of the night.
"what?"
"that cowboy, stallion. he needs a bath."
"so? he can get his own washcloths. why do i need to- oh."
"yeah, oh. we haven't had a single man in a while, so there was no need for edith. now you can go fill her position."
great.
you knock on the door, and use the other hand to fix your hair before you hear him say come in. you do as told, two washcloths secure in your hand as you go deeper in the room. it takes everything in you to stand still not collapse from the sight. his clothes are carelessly dumped on the floor, and he lays still in the wooden basin filled with water. the place is steamy, the fireplace keeping the winter cold away. yunho has his arms hanging from the basin, and his head resting against the edge. the steam has caused his hair to stick to his face, which was shiny. droplets of sweat roll down his neck and into the water, and you think that is the most beautiful sight you've ever seen.
he is so manly, so handsome, and so...
"you gonna stand there and watch while i slowly cook myself into a stew here?"
he is fresh shaven, that is the first thing you notice when you approach him. he lazily opens his eyes, the hot water having relaxed his muscles a bit more than he wanted to. "right, sorry."
you wet one washcloth, then wrap it around a bar of soap. you haven't done this since... ever. yes, you helped wash your sick cousin. but she was sick, and it was different. this? having a whole man naked right in front of you, and you were supposed to touch him?
"go on. i don't bite. not unless you want to."
"i really don't." you murmur, finally pressing the soap against his hot skin.
you exhale, your heart threatening to escape from your chest and jump into the basin with the cowboy. a thin layer of fabric is all that is in the way of you finally feeling him the way you wanted. a fabric that could so easily just slip from your fingers, and you accidentally touch him. and he likes it. and he acts on it. and-
"i see you breaking your back down there. every day. with your father, with all those perverts, with all those jealous women. you deserve better. my offer still stands, you know?"
"i'm fine," you say, just like last time.
"give yourself some time to think."
the next half hour is quiet. peaceful sounds of the wood cracking, water dripping, and yunho's calm breathing. his eyes are locked on you, and you are sweating as much as him, only for different reasons. you fear that he can read your mind, figure out just how naughty the images in your head are getting. but when it gets to a certain point, you are reminded of that night, and you stop. that bastard has stolen your first kiss, and almost stole your first time. if anything, you are thankful that yunho has brought wyatt with him.
"uh... can you sit up straight?"
yunho raises an eyebrow, amused. you clear your throat when he doesn't move, looking around before finally figuring it out.
"could you sit up straight, sir? please?"
"right away, darling."
he does as asked, exposing his back to you. heavens, you want to- you want to- you don't even know what you want. there he sits, a whole meal right in front of you, and all you can do is breathe heavily and act all clumsy. you rub the soap on his back, gently massaging him and feeling every line on his body.
"you missed a spot."
"huh?"
"right here." his warm hand takes your wrist, guiding you towards his chest once again. your hand rests over his beating heart, and if you weren't so foolishly focused on seeing what the missed spot was, you would've seen the look on his face that is yelling to kiss him.
"oh, sorry."
he doesn't get angry. instead, he chuckles fondly. you are so delicate and innocent, it hurts him. too mesmerized by your focused face, he doesn't notice that your hand is traveling to his stomach. he jolts, hand clasping your wrist so tight that it has you whimper. you seem to have found a sensitive spot, not only to the body, but to the mind and heart. the look on his face shifts from a soft to an angry one, and you take it as your cue to step back.
"that's all. you can go." he mutters, looking away from you.
"but-"
"i'll finish up. go."
coming back to the stables, it takes a lot of energy. you first go during the day, with jongho. he knew, wyatt told him. the rest only knew that wyatt and the man got into a fight and wyatt had to shoot him. jongho is understanding, kind, and doesn't seem to share any of the qualities that the dead man had given them. not only is he not interested in doing any harm to the town and its people, but he is rather helpful.
yunho, again, is nowhere to be seen. you hesitate to ask. you don't know what you did wrong, but you pray that the night isn't your last encounter with him.
you stand in front of the stables, memories flooding your brain once you see the hay blocks. they have been rearranged, some destroyed, possibly by jongho or wyatt. the horses are sitting together in the corner, enjoying the warmth of each other during the first snowy day.
"i can't do it."
"that's alright. i won't force you. i just don't want one sick man to keep haunting you even when he's no longer here."
"i need time."
jongho only smiles reassuringly, patting your shoulder. he's nice, why doesn't your stomach toss and turn when you see him the way it does when you see yunho?
"i still wonder what he told you about yunho. your behaviour towards him isn't at all like he described it."
"what, he spoke to you about me?"
wyatt subtly kicks his knee from the side, ordering him to stop. but jongho feels rather mischievous today, and is growing annoyed of his leader. they were supposed to move on days ago, not behave like tourists.
"you first. i want to know why you despise him. well, except obvious reasons." the young man turns around, pointing at their companions scattered in the main street, keeping people away and scared.
you sit on the bench in front of the stable, running your hands through your already messy hair before finding the right words to say. "is he married?"
the two men look at each other, their faces not giving you much of an answer. they are extremely good at masking their emotions. wyatt sighs, sitting down to your right. "yes. and no."
"what do you mean? yes or no?"
"well, it's complicated." jongho says, sitting to your left.
"it's also not our story to tell," wyatt adds, looking over at jongho with a warning look, "yunho is the one that should be telling you."
you scoff, making both men look at you in confusion. "does it matter? he'll just sleep with me, you all will do your part of the job, and then you'll leave. i should do it as soon as possible, for both of our sakes. i imagine you can't wait to leave this town, just like we can't wait for you to leave."
"listen, if yunho wanted to harm you, he would. we never stay in one place longer than three days. we've been here far longer, as you can see. i don't know the reason yet, but i know he doesn't mean any harm. did he have a change of heart? doubt it. will he continue his crimes? i don't doubt that. is there something holding him here? yes, yes there is. i might have a guess, but-"
"jongho. shut the fuck up."
"i wasn't going to tell her, wyatt, relax."
the two men bicker over you, random words and sentences traveling to your ears and overstimulating your brain. you start feeling dizzy, suddenly overwhelmed by everything. you stand up and march down the street, leaving the two men to feel bad on the bench.
the next time you go to the stables, it is night again. and it is because your father throws a glass at you. it hits the wall right next to you, breaking, shards flying into your skin. you have nowhere to go, yunho's companions basically running the town by now. you don't need one of them to get a hold of you again. you sit on the new pile of hay, far in the corner. sobbing, pulling at your hair, cursing yourself.
how wise would it be to actually take his offer? would you be able to survive on your own? or would every single man in town finally be happy that you're all alone, unprotected, and out of someone's cage.
it hurts to even think about it, and it causes you to sob even more. your chest hurts, and after what seems like hours of crying, you aren't sure if it's from physical or emotional pain.
the animals seem to feel sorry for you, because soon enough two horses find their comfort in the hay right next to you, shielding your figure from the outside world. you can't help but laugh at the bigger one, his head pushing into your lap and demanding attention.
"aren't you cute?"
your fingers gently caress its neck, lulling it to sleep. it seems like the whole stable was affected, because soon enough they all start laying down one by one, calling it an early night and pulling you to sleep with them. funny how you got way more peace and affection from animals than your own family.
"moonshine."
click. click. click.
"come on, girl."
the warm surface you were laying on moves, following the mouth clicking noises and leaving your head to rest on the hay. you're still asleep, not aware that someone else has joined you in the stable. but the other person isn't aware that you're there either.
"there's my good girl," the man pets the black stallion, which lives up to its name and stands under the moonlight, in its full glory and shine. "aren't you beautiful?"
your eyes peel open, the voice slowly waking you up. you hear crunching, and a bucket rattling. when you finally open your eyes, you see the outline of the familiar figure at the entrance. it is not yet morning, that you figure out by the darkness that has swallowed the place. the only light being the gas lantern hanging from the saloons entrance, you don't see much. but you recognize that hat and figure anywhere.
"i wish you could speak, my pretty moonshine. you'd tell me why blood was spilled, and why my pretty girl won't lay her eyes on me anymore."
his...? his pretty girl? you don't move a muscle, hoping to hear more. the mare only points its head towards the bucket, demanding more food. yunho chuckles, reaching for another apple.
"do you think i scared her away? i made sure she knows i don't mean any harm to her. did someone fill her pretty head with something?"
the mare lets out a noise, as if wanting to confirm. yunho exhales, then sets the bucket aside. he goes further into the stable, walking just past you and grabs the saddle from the corner. going back, his boot gets caught in your dress, and causes him to halt. you shut your eyes, pretending to still sleep.
"heavens." he exhales.
you feel him get closer to you, and almost betray yourself when you feel his knuckles caress your face.
"darling?"
his voice is usually low and pleasant, but hearing him whisper is just something else. why does he have to be so perfect, yet so dangerous?
you stretch, pretending to not notice him yet. finally opening your eyes, you fake a gasp. you lean back into the hay, trying to keep a distance from him. he crouches in front of you, fixing his hat. you can't get over how well it suits him.
"had a good nap?"
"well, yes. had." you mumble, rubbing your eyes.
"that's no place to sleep, dove."
"it's the only place that gives me comfort right now."
he nods, understandingly. he offers you his hand to take, and you only look at him, puzzled.
"i'll take you to a place that will give you more comfort."
"i'm not sure-"
"that wasn't a question." the tone is serious, but the wink he gives you after it relaxes you.
the cowboy stands up, making his way to his mare. you stand up, dusting off your dress and following him. he puts the saddle on the horse, securing it, then offers you his hand again. this time you take it, not yet sure what he had in mind.
"go on, climb her."
"uh... she's quite... bigger than the last one. or any other one i rode on."
"yeah, moonshine is quite something. she's gentle though, nothing to worry about. go on, don't be shy."
with a bit of struggle, and a little push from yunho, you finally sit comfortably on the tall mare. she indeed shines under the moon, black fur reflecting beautifully in the dark night. yunho climbs behind you, taking the leash in his hands and guiding the mare down the street.
"is she fast?"
"she can be. want to see?"
"i don't know. i might scream."
he chuckles. he maintains the pace, gracefully trotting down the quiet sleepy town. you see some of his companions keeping watch, each nodding their heads your way as you pass them. your gaze falls on his hands, searching for the shiny item that was mentioned that night. but you don't see it. was it really a lie? or did yunho somehow know, and took it off? is the wife even real?
"hold on tight." he whispers into your ear, hot breath brushing your neck and cheek.
you grab onto his thighs, instinctively, right before you pass the last house and yunho whips the leash against the mare. it neighs, puts its two front legs up in the air and almost throws you on the grown. you gasp, but manage to collect yourself once the animal returns to its position and starts galloping. it feels like you're flying, and you're enjoying it more than you're scared of it. your hair flies into his face probably, but he doesn't say anything.
you pass hills, past the river where you first saw the man, and into the mountains. you don't remember the last time you went this far outside of town. not only because you weren't allowed, but you had no time or way. it's not as if you had a horse of your own.
his thighs are firm under your hands, nothing but pure muscle. and it suddenly drives you crazy, the way you feel his torso pressed against your back, arms holding the leash and keeping you from falling off along the way, his breath against your ear.
"you alright?"
"yes!"
"how do you feel? scared?"
"this is so much fun! it's scary and fun!"
his laugh is loud over the wind, chest vibrating behind you. the mare slows its pace when arriving on the steep mountain trails, carefully navigating to the top. once there, it comes to a halt. it is not very high, but high enough too overlook the fields, the river, and the distant town. yunho dismounts, then helps you down.
"cold?" he asks, noticing your trembling frame.
"a bit."
this time, he doesn't throw the spare jacket at you like the first time you met. he takes off his own, helping you put it on. it's warm, smells like him, and it's making you so dizzy you might just fall off the cliff. taking a good look at him, you decide that even if he is dangerous, his handsomeness makes up for it. he wears a brown waistcoat, accentuating his thin waist and broad shoulders. heavens, he is so dashing.
you stand still, waiting for his next plan. he pulls a blanket out of the saddlebag, along with the familiar white cloth, and sets it on the ground. the mare continues it's path further up, taking a spot near a boulder, as if used to the situation already. which brings you back to the questions in your head; did he bring other women here?
"sit down, peach. make yourself comfortable."
and you do, right next to him. you both sit still for a few moments, looking at the faint light in the distance. yunho then fidgets with something in the pocket of his jeans, before holding it out for you to take. in his open palm lays a ring, the very ring you've heard about and had your head spinning for days.
"hmph," he laughs through his nose, "figured that was the issue."
"there is no issue. you have a wife. end of story."
"take it."
"no."
"take it."
"i don't want to."
yunho sighs, then closes his hand again. he sits still for a few moments, as if thinking. and then-
"why would you do that?!"
you stand up, watching the shiny piece of jewelry fall from the cliff.
"if you listened and took it, you would've seen how worthless it is."
"i don't need your wedding ring, yunho."
his eyebrows are knit together, and you suddenly realize your mistake.
"you know my name."
"yeah."
"how?"
and you tell him. every detail of it, including the wife story. he listens carefully, face not giving any emotion. typical. by the time you finish, you are laying down and looking up at the shiny sky, tears streaming down your face. yunho is propped up on his elbow, laying on the side and listening. his fingers catch a fresh tear, brushing your cheek in the process. you are left completely baffled when he puts the very same fingers on his lips, tongue peeking out to lick the salty liquid.
"you poor thing." he coos, bringing his hand back to you. he removes the hair from your neck, then smiles with satisfaction once he sees your healed skin. "that's good. seems my medical techniques worked."
you scoff, putting your hair back over your neck with embarrassment. "so, uh... your wife?"
"a psycho."
"oh."
"she stabbed me. almost bled out to death if it weren't for jongho."
he says it so casually, as if it isn't a big deal. "you're still married though, right? that's why you had the ring."
"not quite. we weren't really married. it was just play pretend, so she could have half of everything i was bringing back. once i stopped, the bitch jumped me with a knife. barely made it out alive."
"then... why did you keep it?"
"to keep women away from me. well, those i didn't want."
"but you sleep with them. you use them anyway."
he frowns at the accusation. "no, no i don't. i only rob. i sleep only with prostitues, sometimes. what my companions do is none of my business. we have a deal, and i do not ask about what they do. just like they don't ask about me or what i do."
so, not all of it is true. but then again, can you really trust him?
"i'm so sorry, dove. if i knew that sick bastard would go behind my back, even after threatening them not to touch you-"
"it's fine. nothing happened." you try, seeing him get angrier with every second he spends imagining the situation you were in.
"he stole your first kiss."
"well, yes. but, what's done is done. it was barely a kiss, really. more like mouth to mouth breathing. it was like inhaling a whole onion." you say with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. but yunho doesn't laugh. instead, he unbuttons his waistcoat, then his shirt.
"what- what are you doing?"
"well, since you showed me your bruises, and told me your story, it would only be fair that i showed you mine."
you remember the night you washed him, when you went to touch his stomach and he told you to leave. kneeling in front of him, you finally get to see why. a scar decorates his lower torso, just above the jeans and the v-line. you breathe in, ready to do something you would only in your dreams.
you lean in, hands trembling against the blanket and fingers scrunching it from the nervous state you're in. yunho shivers, feeling your lips press against his scar. you don't stop there, inspired by his own actions. you allow your tongue to graze it, and when you get another gasp from him, you take it as a sign to keep going. his hand finds its place under your chin, raising your head to that you can look at him. and he snaps.
he grabs you by your waist, pulling you up so that you sit in his lap. you don't fight back, you're enjoying it. over the layers of the dress, you feel something poking you, and it makes your cheeks heat up.
"stop looking at me like that." he whispers, lips inches away from yours.
"like what?"
"with those big eyes. like you want me to ravish you right here."
"maybe i do."
"you're saying risky things, sugar."
seeing that he doesn't intend on making the first move, you do. you close the distance, pressing your lips against his. you don't know what you're doing, but try your best. luckily, he gives in, humming into your lips and kissing you properly. his hands on your waist scrunch the fabric of your dress as he contains himself from just pushing you below him and having you his way. he needs to take it slow. you're not like others.
"relax your jaw." he mumbles, and when you do, he allows his tongue to touch your lips, as if asking for permission to enter. and you grant it, parting your lips and unsurely letting your tongue join his.
he massages your muscle with his own skilled one, rubbing it just right and making your thighs rub and seek pleasure. he kisses you slow, and deep, each stroke of his tongue more passionate than the previous one. he feels you get annoyed by something, and is forced to stop.
"what is it?"
"as much as i love your hat, it's in the way."
the man chuckles below you, immediately removing the hat and putting it on your head. "there."
"how do i look?" you adjust it, getting used to the new item.
"like a feast."
with a swift move, yunho pulls your body closer to his face, so that it is between your legs. his hands shuffle through the layers of fabric, finally finding the undergarment and pushing it aside. "what are you doing? i'm going to squish you!"
"sit."
"what?!"
"sit."
you hover above him, not yet listening. this time, he is the one to get annoyed, and puts his hands on your bottom. he slams you against his face, tongue immediately licking a stripe up your already slick folds. you gasp, hand flying to his shoulders for support.
"rock your hips, sunshine. make yourself feel good."
you do as told, rocking your hips back and forth on his tongue, soft moans and gasps leaving your mouth. you tremble in his hands, the newfound pleasure too much for you to handle. "i can't- yunho, it's too much-"
the man only sends you a mischievous look, before taking the situation into his own hands. his plush lips close around your clit, sucking it, while the tip of his tongue teases the tip of your clit. you let out a long and loud moan, body shuddering from the surge of intense pleasure.
"fuuuck-" you whine, hips hopelessly grinding against his tongue.
deciding it's enough, yunho flips you underneath him with a swift motion. "do you want to do this?"
"yes, please."
"then, i'll have to prepare you. since you asked so nicely."
he flips your dress over, exposing your wet bottom to the cool air. you shiver again, his jacket not helping much with the cold.
"this is going to hurt a little. i promise i'll be gentle."
you nod, then go back to abusing the poor blanket underneath you. you bite into it, feeling his long digits intrude your tight walls. it is unpleasant, but not that painful.
"that's a good girl. you're so wet for me, look how easily you're taking me."
he starts pumping in and out, squelching noises having you completely lose your mind and almost drool on the blanket. his fingers are long, very long. how will you survive his-?
"this good, darling?"
"yes."
"yes, what?"
"yes, sir." you moan out, hips moving along with his hand in hopes of more pleasure.
he doesn't speed up. being soft and slow seems to be his way of doing it, and it is a pace you are enjoying very much. it's not fast, like you do it. you do it to get rid of it. he does it for actual pleasure. when he removes his fingers, you can't help but whine at the loss of contact. he turns you around so that you lay on your back, facing him. his hair is a mess, much like yours, and he smiles lazily at you.
"my needy girl." he coos, pressing a kiss to your lips. "can i claim you, sweet thing?"
"what?"
"do you wish to be mine?"
do you? or is it just the horny speaking instead of you? either way, you might end up regretting. so you simply say:
"yes, sir."
"say my name, darling." he pulls himself out of his jeans, the tip of his cock running circles on your sensitive clit.
"yunho."
he hums, slipping his tip past your folds. "again."
"yunho," you gasp, feeling him inch by inch splitting you in half.
"again."
"yunho-"
"more."
"yunho," thrust, "yunho," thrust, "yunho!"
he gets lost in the feeling of your tight warm walls, hips snapping deep inside of you and driving you crazy. you get wetter by the second, even more when you see him so dizzy. it's nice to know that you have him in a chokehold as much as he has you.
"does it hurt?"
"no," you reply.
"that's because you're so perfectly made for me. look at you, you fit in the palm of my hand."
that's not true, obviously. but the way he says it makes you really feel that you could fit, and that you could stay protected there. his hips collide with yours, and your eyes roll back.
"such a pretty pussy," he growls, pace getting sloppier and slower. "wish i could do this all night long."
"me too," you moan.
his hands rip your dress apart, exposing your chest. his lips waste no time in attaching to your skin, leaving bite marks all over it, until reaching the tense nipples. he takes one in his mouth, tongue swirling around it, while his other hand plays with the other. your fingers find comfort in pulling his hair, subconsciously pushing his head into you further.
"my sweet peach," he coos, cock sliding in and out so easily, "my pretty girl."
"so sweet"
"even your moans are so beautiful"
"use me for your pleasure, darling"
you find yourself moving your hips along with his, only in a faster pace. you need to finally feel that orgasm. you feel something build up in the bottom of your stomach, and you're not sure what to do.
"yunho..."
"yes, my love?"
"i don't know how to- how to orgasm."
"you'll feel it. don't think about it. just relax, and let your body do it. let me do it."
you feel the buildup, then you lose it. again, and again, until you whine about it. yunho turns you around again, so that you are sitting on his lap. you feel him deep in your stomach, almost pulsating.
"let's try this."
he helps you up and down, rolls your hips, until he finds what works for you. you hover above him, hopelessly biting into his neck to contain your inappropriate noises. his hips snap into yours with a fast pace, finally hitting the spot you didn't know existed. the buildup starts again, this time not stopping. and when pleasure washes you over, you can't help but pull at yunho's hair mercilessly, moaning into his ear and letting yourself completely go. he helps you ride it out, waves of intense pleasure washing over you as yunho helps himself get closer.
"fuck, darling." he growls, pulling out of you.
"wait, what about you?"
"i'll just- i don't know."
his hand wraps around his cock, which is ready to unleash any moment. the man almost audibly gasps when he sees you kneel in front of him, innocently opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. just how did you know?
"are you sure?"
"positive."
"absolutely sure?"
"yunho?"
"yes?"
"please cum in my mouth."
and it's all it takes. yunho jerks himself on your tongue, or at least tries to. some of it ends up on your face, but you so carefully try to collect every single drop he gives you. you don't miss the way his head falls back, eyes rolling and low moans escaping his pretty lips. coming down from his high with one last pump and moan, he finally looks at you. the texture on your tongue is not the most pleasant one, but you decide to impress him further, and swallow it. he scoffs in disbelief, running a hand through his hair.
"you are just perfect, aren't you?"
in the morning, the ride back is much more comfortable. you still wear his hat, proudly, and his jacket. he can't help but kiss your shoulder as you ride, having it difficult enough to keep his hands off you. if only he could hold you in his pocket all day.
upon entering the town, you notice the people, your people, standing and waiting. would now be the right time to tell yunho you accept his offer?
he helps you dismount, before taking the revolver in his hand.
"what's this? a rebellion?" he says, mockingly.
"does she know?" your father asks, pointing at you.
you scrunch your eyebrows, looking between the two men. something shines in your fathers hand, and you realize he also holds a revolver.
"there is nothing to know." yunho replies, approaching him and standing in front of you. "you keep your mouth shut."
"oh, but there is. see, my little daughter, if you want to whore around, you could've picked anyone from the town. not your own mother's killer."
blood runs cold in your veins. the sun suddenly doesn't shine as bright anymore, and the man in front of you morphs into someone else. he turns around towards you, shaking his head. "no..."
"he shot her."
"you shot my father!"
"he deserved it!"
"no, the fuck he didn't!"
you step back, tears burning your eyes. did you really give yourself to the man who took your mother away from you? who also took your father away from you?
"listen-" yunho tries, hands reaching to touch you.
"don't touch me."
"he came here to finish the business. but he didn't count that he would fall for the daughter. what a clash of interests."
he doesn't deny it. and it only infuriates you more. so he did have an evil plan after all.
"you came for me, didn't you?" your father presses further, raising his revolver.
"no, i didn't." yunho replies, face changing from a guilty and sorry one to a neutral. "i came for her."
he grabs you by your shoulders, putting his hand over your mouth. you toss, scream, and whatnot, but what are you compared to his grip?
"i assume you won't care much if i took her away. but it would mean much to me. tit for tat."
"you are to never step foot into this town again. not you, not your companions."
yunho nods. and your father puts his weapon away. and it crashes your heart. you know you don't mean much to him, but to give you to an outlaw so easily?
"i came for what i wanted, not to worry. you won't see me ever again."
and just like that, you find yourself tied up and tossed over the black mare.
why did you ever wish for a life other than the one you had?
"you're all mine now, sunshine."
feedback greatly appreciated! <3
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The Succession (Part 2)
Summary: After the battle of Rook’s Rest, Queen Y/N is forced to rule alongside Prince Regent Aemond, in an attempt to keep her children safe and eventually seat her mother, Rhaenyra, on the throne. While attending her husband, on what appears to be his deathbed, she begins to unravel the dark truth of his near passing.
Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader
Part 1
Y/N wakes to a knock at the door. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sits upright. Aegon is still there, unmoving beside her. “Come.”
“Good morrow, your grace.” Her lady in waiting, Chérie, bows her head upon entry; a powder blue gown draped over one arm. “You must break your fast.”
“What ungodly hour is it?” The Queen grumbles, stretching both arms above her head.
“Nearly midday, my Queen.”
Y/N nods, taking her hand. “I need a favor of you.”
“A bath?” Chérie smirks.
Y/N stares down at herself, nightgown stained with blood and gods know what else. She huffs a laugh, “that as well.”
“I will ready the tub.”
“Chérie?”
“Are you seeking comfort, your grace?” She has lost her grandmother and her husband’s good health, “I could tend you.”
“No.” Y/N stares down at her hands.
“Forgive me for assuming.” She takes a step back, “I only want to help.”
Y/N moves forward, closing the space between them. “It was kind of you, Chérie. I appreciate your devotion, more than you know. There is something different I need of you.”
“Name it.”
“You know things…I must know them.”
“What is it you need know?” Chérie wonders.
“The truth of what happened at Rook’s Rest. I do not pretend to understand Aegon’s motivations. Gods willing, I may be able to ask him one day. But for now, I need know what befell him. Cole dances around it, the Hightowers will never be truthful with me.”
“Is there anything you do know? A talking point that might be of use as I consult the servants?” Chérie wonders.
Y/N leans in. “Helaena and Aemond stood at the foot of his bed last night. She asked if it was worth the price. Aemond denied any knowledge of what she meant. Still, Helaena does not speak to cause upset, she speaks when she has something to say. If he’s done this…the whole of our line may be in danger.”
Chérie sighs, “somedays I am glad to’ve been born a commoner.”
“For that I do not fault you.” Y/N forces a smile.
Chérie steals a glance at the king. “Will he live?”
“We’ve no way of knowing. I pray to the gods for his recovery, but it is a long road. He will never be as he was, so long as he lives, it matters naught to me.”
————————————————————————
“There’s been word from King’s Landing.”
Rhaenyra’s head snaps up.
“Aegon has fallen, the stranger looms over his head. With Vhagar weakened in the attack, now is the time to act.”
“And what of my daughter?” The Queen ticks a finger against the table. “Has she been spotted since Aegon’s coronation?”
“We believe the princess lives, your grace. But upon second hand testimony, smallfolk in the streets, we cannot say for certain.”
“What was she doing?” Rhaenyra wonders, “my girl, when they saw her in the streets?”
The lords look to each other, “she marched beside the carriage with Aegon’s body.”
“That is proof enough. I must send word to her, she cannot think we have turned our backs on her. With Aegon gone, she may very well be Aemond’s next attempt.” Rhaenyra is sick over it.
“You must trust, as we have, that Aegon will care for her.”
“He cannot care for her, upon his deathbed. Should he pass, we leave her to whom? Aemond and Alicent? She will be put to the sword.” Rhaenyra shakes her head.
“Meleys was our largest dragon, your grace.” Ser Alfred reminds her.
“Which is why I must go.”
“You cannot, my Queen. You are the crown.”
“I will go.” Jacaerys fists the hilt of his sword.
“No,” Rhaenyra scoffs. “It is out of the question. You will be taken or slain.”
“Would you rather my sister or me?” Jace squares his shoulders. “Those are your choices.”
————————————————————————-
Y/N forces her meal down, spending the evening in her children’s rooms.
“Mama,” Visera calls to her, “I’ve made something for father.”
“I helped!” Dahlia chimes in. “Laenor wanted to, but he rubbed his hands all over it. The painting was nearly ruined.”
“Say it isn’t so, my loves.” Y/N lifts her eldest son onto her hip. “Shall I kiss his head off?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Y/N smiles, peppering Laenor’s sweet face with kisses as he squeals, thrashing wildly in her hold.
Dahlia and Visera giggle, entertained for the moment.
“And you, my prince, best have learned your lesson.” Y/N says, releasing her son onto the floor.
He scampers away, still screeching with glee.
“Mother?” Dahlia tugs at her mother’s skirts.
“Yes, my darling?”
“When will we see father?”
Y/N sighs, “come, sit with me.” She pats the cushions on either side of her.
Her daughters look to each other, then join her on the settee.
“Do you remember what Papa told you about sickness? How it is a war we wage alone, within our bodies?”
“Is he ill?”
“Not exactly,” Y/N explains, “nevertheless, his body is at war now. Battling to repair itself from great wounds, some we cannot see. Every hour, he is fighting his way back to us. But he must remain abed for now, in a state of sleep.”
“May we watch him sleep?” Visera wonders.
“I fear you might be saddened by it.”
“Why, Mama?”
“He looks a bit different, on the outside. But on the inside he is the same.” Y/N says, fighting for composure, “we mustn’t touch him, lest we cause more pain. And it is hard to keep our distance, when all we truly want is to wrap him in an embrace.”
“Mayhaps when we see him, we might hold each other instead.”
Y/N looks to her eldest daughter. “On the morrow, after his bandages are changed, I will bring you. And if it is too much for you, there is no shame in saying so. We love him dearly and he knows it.”
“That is what matters, I think.” Visera says, “if I were waging war, I would want to know someone loved me.”
————————————————————————
Y/N sneaks down to the kitchens for a bit of cake, heading to Aegon’s apartments to eat it. The doors open onto Aemond, leaning over Aegon’s body.
“What are you doing?” She has no weapon, if she’s to kill him now, it will be with her bare hands or a serving spoon.
Aemond turns to her, with sly smile. “My brother was asking for you. He woke in pain, I was merely supplying him with milk of the poppy.”
Y/N forces her mouth to turn upward, “very kind of you, I thank you for looking in on him.”
Aemond nods, setting the empty cup on the bedside table. “Of course.”
“When he asked for me, what did he say?” She wonders, lying her plate of cake beside it.
“Only your name.”
Y/N nods.
“You have been a good and faithful wife to him. Aegon is blessed to have you.”
“Aemond,” Y/N breathes, “might I ask you something?”
His eye flickers about her, “of course, sweet niece.”
“What do you think was his undoing?” She motions to Aegon, “if you had to say?”
“Vanity…pride.”
“It would be suited,” Y/N forces the awful words past her lips, “for someone to take that from him.”
“You should not say such things, my Queen. The thought alone is truly depraved.”
“Of course, forgive me.”
“What befell my brother is nothing short of a tragedy.” Aemond purrs, “you must keep your wits about you.”
“Were they locked in battle?” Y/N asks, “when my grandmother gave Meleys the order?”
Aemond purses his lips, “when dragons fly to war, it is men who burn. Aegon is not the first, he will not be the last. You should be grateful he returned to you.”
“I have lost a brother to war.” Y/N says, as if he needs reminding. “I know its cruelty.”
“A shame, indeed.” Aemond hums.
“I hope it was worth the price.”
“Y/N.” Alicent calls, “Aemond, what are you doing here?”
The prince looks to his mother, “I was merely checking in on our king.”
“You are kind to do so,” Alicent swallows, “as his wife is now here, you are relieved of said duty. Unless you wish the three of us to hold vigil.”
“Perhaps another time, mother.” Aemond nods, “I’ve more pressing matters to attend.” He brushes past them, closing the door to Aegon’s bedchamber behind him.
“What were you thinking?” Alicent demands, in a hushed whisper. “My son pleads for your life and you stand here tempting the very man who-”
“The very man who what?” Y/N dares her to say it. “Killed my brother? Or are you referring to some other atrocity I am not privy to?”
“Your children are in danger, my grandchildren, let me help you.” Alicent reaches for her.
Y/N bats her hand away, “don’t you touch me! My children are in danger because of you.”
“You know what Aemond is.” Kinslayer. Alicent swallows, hard. “My only concern is keeping you safe. What is to stop him from taking out the whole of Aegon’s line to make room for his own? The smallfolk riot in the streets, demanding we open the gates. Even they wish to flee, it is all going to ruin. They need to see you.”
“They will see me as you parade my body through the streets after my murder, not a moment before. I will not betray my mother or her claim.”
“I am not asking you to stand against Rhaenyra, I am asking you to stand for my son. Before it is too late. You owe him this. You forced him onto that saddle as much as I forced him upon the throne.”
“I?” Y/N snaps, “I am the one you blame for this? You think I would have my husband reduced to ash over a fucking chair?”
Alicent presses her lips together, “all Aegon has done is in your name. He rose and he fell for you alone.”
“I wanted this to be peaceful, you know. I truly did and my mother did, then again and again I was taken for a fool.”
“Aegon loves you. He went to meet Rhaenys for you, in hopes of creating new terms with your mother. Mayhaps others have used you, like a pawn to carry out their own agenda, but not Aegon. He never plotted, he never wavered, even in his condition, you are the agenda.”
“And I love him for it, but please know I did not ask him to meet with her. I would have gone myself rather than risk his life. That is why I have not fled, or stole away with my children to Dragonstone. Aegon is equally important to me.”
“You must ready yourself then, in the color of our house.”
“No,” Y/N narrows her eyes, “this is for my husband, who hangs precariously in the balance of life and death. I will attend this procession in the color of mourning, not Hightower green.”
————————————————————————
In the absence of Daemon, Rhaenyra turns to Mysaria for counsel. “You know the ins and outs of King’s Landing better than any. I need an in.”
“Criston Cole made a mistake, parading a dragon’s head through the streets, like a prize of war. The people see an ill omen.” Mysaria tells her.
“Yes, as do I.”
“They are afraid, bread is scarce. The king has fallen, they whisper to each other that when Viserys lived there was peace.” They question the succession.
“But will whispers tear down stone? Break shields?” Save my daughter?
“Do not underestimate them, to the discontented, rumors are feed.” Mysaria continues. “What you cannot do, let others to do for you. There is more than one way to fight a war.”
Part 3
Series Taglist: @oh-you-mean-me @barnes70stark @lovelyteenagebeard @niyahnotnia @narwhal-swimmingintheocean
#house of the dragon#aegon targaryen x you#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#hotd aegon#aegon imagine#aegon targaryen fanfic#aegon ii
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scare | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,, (part 1)
synopsis - you’re in a relationship with some one else and have a pregnancy scare, both your own reaction and spencer’s makes you realise that you’re not happy.
genre - bau!reader x spencer, friends to lovers, multi-part, pregnancy scare, reader has sort of a douche bf, one sided love (at first), angst and fluff
warnings - pregnancy talk, mentions of sex, unhealthy relationships, stress, sickness
w/c - 1.4k?? take a guess cause that’s mine.
a/n - i’ve got 9 weeks free. yeah, i have a job. and yeah, i have about 6 other hobbies i enjoy. but am i gonna make promises i can’t keep about writing more?? yeah. i am. here, enjoy. (pls lemme know abt mistakes it’s rlly late at night rn.)
The plane whirrs, small chatter from Morgan and who you assumed to be Penelope over the phone humming along with the music you try to distract yourself with. It isn’t working.
Because every song has its own special and quirky musical instrument that happens to sound like a message notification. And you keep getting your hopes up.
Your left leg started to bounce, your fingernails found their way to your anxious teeth. And Spencer noticed.
He noticed about halfway through the case, when you stopped talking as much, started drinking an influx of water, started discreetly taking pain medication. At first, he thought it was a simple stomach bug, and he knew your stomach didn’t agree with a lot of travel. But then you started getting nervous.
Spencer glanced at you a few times before moving, sitting next to you (attempting to be discreet). He can’t be discreet though, because every time he’s around you, his body does this weird thing where it can’t decide whether it should be instantly calm or instantly more nervous. Your presence stopped his fidgeting hands, his tired thoughts. But god, when he looked at you, it’s like his heart wants to see you for itself.
And right now his heart hurt, why were you scared?
You barely noticed Spencer sit down, usually you would, but your phone was annoyingly blank, silent. You turned it off and on three times, and re-entered the plane’s wifi password five times.
And now your stomach was grumbling, and not in the way that those nice small sandwiches can help out with.
“Are you okay?”
You jumped, taking your earphones out and staring at Spencer surprised. You laughed nervously, quietly, “Spencer! Sorry. Yeah, I’m fine.”
His warm eyes searched yours and for a second you could ignore the tight feeling in your chest. It made you think back around 8 months ago, when Penelope, your childhood best friend and now co-worker, created a pros and cons list for both Lloyd, and… Spencer.
It was unprofessional and inappropriate, especially when you decided to listen because you had nothing better to do. And especially when she started making some good points.
He squinted his eyes, and you sighed.
“Sorry, I’m just a bit antsy. Feeling a bit… off.”
You felt sick, and stressed, and like your thoughts were going to be the cause of your death. Because you’ve never been sick like this. And to your overworked brain, it only meant one thing.
Spencer’s a great profiler. And although the team collectively agreed to not profile each other, it becomes hard for Spencer when the girl he’s in love with is so obviously in distress. Even worse when he can’t be the hero.
“I can leave you to sleep if you want.” He says, getting up to leave.
“Oh, no. That’s okay. Honestly, I think sleeping would just make it worse.”
Ah, right. Travel sickness, Spencer thought. He gaps his mouth slightly and nods. He relaxes into the couch and looks over to you, heart picking up slightly as pieces of hair fell from your loose ponytail.
You looked over to the table he was previously sat at, the book you gifted him last Christmas open and nearly finished. You smiled to yourself, but it was bittersweet.
“You’re actually reading it?” You asked, looking back at him with slight surprise.
“Of course. I’ve read it 6 times already, it’s a great pallet cleanser- Just like you said in that Christmas card!” He smiled childishly, like he was recalling the first snow.
“I know right! It’s so simple but interesting, I mean I’ve only read it three times but to me I always found it to clear my head.”
Spencer angled himself towards you, “Did you know that the author actually interviewed his daughter’s teachers to see what ages teachers were more invested in compared to class sizes? He said in an interview that depending on a students intelligence, there’s an underlying emotional connection made between student and teacher,” he took a breath, “It plays into the intelligence to ego ratio that so many people claim isn’t true. Which I’m not trying to say you have a big ego, or that I do-“
You waved you hands, “Woah, woah. Why would I think you’re talking about me?”
He furrowed his eyebrows, “Well, you’re very intelligent.”
“Oh!… Thanks for thinking I’m intelligent, or smart.” You shrugged, “But I think you insulted yourself. You don’t have a 187 IQ for nothing do you?”
“You remembered my IQ?” He laughed nervously. His smile warms your chest like a candle. Like that candle he got you randomly in April, after you mentioned your favourite one being used up by your boyfriend.
Your boyfriend. Ugh.
You smile falters for only a second, “Of course. You only mention it to every person that second guesses you.”
He nods and smiles, “Must be my ego.”
You laugh, subconsciously bumping your shoulder with his. But- Jesus. Your stomach is queasy.
“Hey, uh, do you want some travel sickness pills?” He reached over for his satchel but you grab his forearm and smile as convincingly as you can.
“No, no. We’re landing soon, but thank you.”
You’re overreacting.
That’s what he said. When you texted your boyfriend of a year and a half that you thought you were pregnant he said, You’re overreacting. Two words, two hours after your first text, on his day off.
Maybe you are. You started feeling sick on a slightly more gory case, it’s lasted ever since the case started, you get travel sick as well.
The headaches are from the computer screen and stress. The stress is from fatigue. The fatigue is because of the lack of sleep. The lack of sleep is because of the headaches.
Why do you always do this? Always thinking that there’s something wrong with you. Always being the biggest person in your own life, selfish.
But… what if?
There’s a sudden squeak from behind you, and you instantly snapped out of it. You took a deep breath and looked at your surroundings. You were at your desk, standing, the strap of your bag clutched in your hands - god, your knuckles were white. Your eyes darted in surprise and confusion, and you jumped once again when Spencer spoke into the silence.
“You okay?”
“Um…”
You didn’t look back at him, only looking down at your shoes and taking a deep breath. You plastered on a smile despite the bile collecting in your throat.
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine. I’ve gonna go, the bus leaves at um…”
You took out your phone. He didn’t even respond to your text asking him to pick you up.
“I’ll drive you home. But uh, I gotta pick up some groceries. I hope you don’t mind.”
He curved to your desk and gently took your bag from your hands, glancing at the way you traced your knuckles and how the leather strap now had slight wrinkles in it. He smiled, warmly. And he started walking like you rejecting the idea wasn’t an option.
Which is wasn’t, because he knew you too well.
“Well, a cucumber actually has 3% more water than watermelon. So if you really want a refreshing snack, cucumber is your man.”
You smiled and raised your eyebrows in interest. He’s had many vegetables and fruits in the basket, not a lot of protein. Explained a lot.
My man, you thought with a smile.
My man, you shivered.
“I don’t like cucumbers.” You said like it was distraction, and he nodded, picking up some kewpie mayo as he you around to the next aisle. He glanced at you,
“I know. You say it’s tasteless. I like it.” He shrugged.
“I know.” You smiled, and he smiles back.
God, you wish you could bask in it, the warmth. But your chest was still tingly, and your heart hadn’t stopped aching ever since you got excited about an email notification.
“Hey, are you sure you’re okay? I noticed you’ve been tense for like… a week.” He grabbed some pasta sauce and put his hand on your shoulder to turn you around - you obviously looked too far into your own head.
“Yeah, just feeling-“
“Y/n.” He turned to you, stopping your venture into the dairy aisle. His eyes were hard, worried. The fluorescent lights swayed slightly. A worker walked by the end of the aisle with a trolley full of food.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t,” he lifted one arm, wanting to rest his hand on your upper arm, to help you, “Don’t say sorry. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I have been feeling sick. That’s true. And I’ve been stressed and, thinking a lot. A lot.”
It felt weird to nearly tell Spencer about your relationship problems. It was like complaining to a doctor about healing crystals. It was like a slap in the face. Maybe that’s why you never did tell him about it, because it was facing your fears.
It was the pros and cons list made by Penelope.
But I’m overreacting.
“It’s nothing.”
Spencer sighed. You had that habit, of nearly opening up, and then shutting the door just as he was about to walk in.
You heard his sigh.
“Okay. I gave Lloyd my car because he has the day off, and he likes going to his friends houses on his days off. And, I told him something that should probably freak him out. But he doesn’t really care. I don’t think he really cares, about anything. At least about me.”
You started walking, because holy shit you’ve never said that out loud before, and Spencer followed you,
“Y/n, if you want to tell me something-“
“I think I’m pregnant.” You stopped, and started picking at your fingers, acting as if it was admitting to not knowing your left and rights, or that you don’t really like coconut.
His eyes widen, and his heart drops. It was like his worst nightmare coming true- jesus, how could he even think about himself right now? The girl he loved felt trapped with a man she thought might be the father of her baby.
Spencer gulped, “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh.”
You looked at each other, scared, you more than him. And then you cringed,
“God, I’m sorry Spencer. I shouldn’t have said anything-“
“No- Y/n, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me-“
“I haven’t even, like, taken a test yet-“
“Wait so-”
You spun on your heel and looked at him exasperated.
“So… let’s go get some tests.” He said (he hopes) calmly. He was really trying, to pretend to be calm and collected. That’s what you needed, a clear head to replace yours.
He paid for everything, even the 5 pregnancy tests and the over sized lollipop you put in the basket to ease your nerves later on.
The moon was high, you were about three hours late to get home now, and your head was attacking itself with rambles and aches and honestly, you were sick of it.
You shivered, huddling in your jacket and drawing only slightly closer to Spencer. His silence was like a hook, drawing you in closer and higher and taking every word you had been thinking that day to the tip of your tongue.
You looked up to him. His hair fell into his eyes, the breeze reddening his cheeks slightly.
It’s Spencer. You’ve known him for nearly 6 years, but it feels like you’ve known each other for ever. You know everything about him, and he knows everything about you. Well, not everything. He doesn’t know how you feel in your own apartment, how every anniversary had been forgotten even when it was the ‘1 year’ mark, how you felt like you were raising an over grown child who could drink.
He knows you’re strong, but admitting all that? I’d look weak.
You have looked weak in front of Spencer. He stayed overnight in your hospital room, he held you when you watched a little girl die, he wiped your tears when you watched a sad short film during your break.
You couldn’t hide anything from him.
“I don’t think I’m pregnant- Well, I mean I might be, but there’s a very low chance,” You started, Spencer’s jaw clenched for a millisecond, “I’ve just been feeling sick and… it could be because of stress from work, or just general stress- like, I don’t know.”
Spencer moved the grocery bag to his other hand.
“Kids are great, don’t get me wrong. Some people don’t get the chance to have kids. I mean…” You gulped, and Spencer finally looked down at you. But now, all you could do was stare at the car park’s concrete floor. Speaking out loud was like clearing your brain, the fog was lifting. “Lloyd doesn’t want kids. I do, at least in the future, not right now. I just hope it’s not with-“ You cut yourself off, and slow down a bit. Spencer matches your pace.
I just hope it’s not with him.
He gulps, and clears his throat, looking down at you with understanding eyes, “With everything that’s going on.”
“Yeah… yeah. You know, my job, my…” It’s no use lying to Spencer. He knows. He’s known, for a long time.
Your chest was tight, and you made eye contact with the pregnancy tests lying on top of Spencer’s groceries. The thought of going home, rushing to the bathroom, avoiding your boyfriend who was already waiting angry, made your throat close up. Because only now, when you were three hours late from work and ignoring his one attempt at a phone call, Lloyd texted, ‘I think you need to calm down.’ It was a bare minimum, and finally Spencer could see you realizing it.
No, ‘Wre you okay?’, ‘What’s making you think this?’ ‘Where are you?’
No. He was making you out to be the crazy one, the one to be over thinking, over bearing, too much.
You were confused. To put it blankly. And scared. And questioning your life decisions. And honestly you just wanted to curl up in a ball and to have Spencer make you bad cucumber salad at his warm apartment.
You looked up to Spencer but he was already looking down at you, reaching for his keys and nodding, “You can come to mine, it’ll be okay.”
taglist (open) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna @laurakirsten0502 @cultish-corner
#criminal minds#spencer reid#cm#criminal minds imagine#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid oneshot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fanfic
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WATERBORNE
SUMMARY: a young waterbender who appears in Gotham gets the attention of a few birds a big bat. But one bird seems more interested than the others. Leaving them to be captured.
PAIRS||Yandere! Tim drake & Platonic Yandere!Batfam x Waterbender!Reader
“Nah fuck that!” Y/n yells, they immediately arises both of their arms. Water moves with the flow of his arms in the sewer. A figure with a big blue on his chest steps back. Eyes widen at rings of water surrounding the small bender. “You’re not taking me alive dick head!” Nightwing, aka Dick Grayson, nervously chuckles while putting his hands up.
“Aw cmon, how did you know my name—”
Immediately the vigilante gets hit with a wave of water, knocked onto his back by the pressure. Nightwing soon sits up coughing, shocked by the pressure knocking him back a few feet. He hasn’t even notice the hydro power house had taken off before he shook his head. Y/n, running with only an over coat and work out sneakers. They didn’t wish for these powers, they didn’t wish to be found. They didn’t wish to be anyone’s obsession! Nightwing finally got his bearings minutes later. “Damnit..” Nightwing puts two fingers to his ear, pressing down he talks.
“They’re on the run again. Tim it’s your turn.” Nightwing opened up a hologram map of the tunnels from his forearm.
“Got it.” Says another voice.
And that was Tim drake, aka Red Robin. Tim nods at the sound coming from his coms. He also had his map up as he readied his bow staff. It was electrified on the tip of it, ready to stun the young bender. He stopped pulling the map up when hearing loud footsteps and heavy breathing.
Tim grips his bow staff, leaning Against the side wall, he gets ready to swing only for him to drop his staff. He dropped it with a loud clank! There stood the hydro power house, y/n. Y/n had anger in their eyes as the other was engulfed by a hand shaped of water. Y/n held one hand out. “Won’t you damn people leave me alone?!” Tim tries to get out of the water, only for it to tighten. “I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m in no need for help. I don’t need anyone! I don’t need you, or anything!”
Tim frowns, he knew the water bender needed help. He looked about his age. Seventeen. Y/n look fatigue, not enough on their bones, messy hair, baggy eyes with reddish eyes. Before Tim could speak, he couldn’t even try.
Instantly the water bender swung their hand harshly, making Tim hit the other side of the tunnel harshly. A crack was dented there with Tim’s body. The young boy fell onto his stomach, groaning in pain. He tries to stand before gushes of water hits him, over, and over again.
“Leave. Me. Alone!” Y/n swung their hand, it was a undertossing motion as if throwing back a baseball. Y/n kept walking towards their enemy, each swing gets harsher and harsher. Tim tries to take a deep breath, but he’s practically drowning. He lays unconscious now, y/n breaths heavily. Their arms weak, sore, tired. His breathing starts to slow down, but not in the way he wants.
He leans against a wall, balling up his hands.
“Why..why am I so tired. My eyes, they’re heavy. What the hell??”
Y/N’s vision is slowly turning black, not noticing Tim standing up. Smiling widely as he walks towards the drugged water bender. “I see the narcotic worked.” Y/n tried to move their dominant arm, only to just stay limp. “What…did you do to me..”
Tim frowns, leaning towards the waterbender. “What I had to do. You need my help. You need me.” A sick grin reaches the boy’s face as Tim cups the hydro’s face. Y/n glare harshly at Tim who could only smile.
“You.. you and your damn hero complex! You should drown, drown like anyone that dare try to capture me!” Anger filled y/n’s soul. But Tim ignored it, seeing this aggression as a result of not being able to save them earlier. Tim frowns and lifts y/n over his shoulder.
“It’s okay. I’m here now, The others and Batman will help you! You won’t need to survive anywhere else.” Tim says lastly as the anesthesia kicks in fully now. Knocked out over the teen boy’s shoulder, the boy couldn’t help but smile more. When his bow staff fell, it released the drug only for you to specifically breathe in. And it worked perfectly, just like Tim knew it would.
You were now, captured.
A/N: Ayo new series? Jk.. or maybe not? Anyone wants this to continue or what? Cause I actually enjoyed writing this
#water bending#water bender#Alta!reader#dc x reader#dc x male reader#dc imagine#dc comics x reader#yandere tim drake x reader#yandere tim drake#yandere red robin#tim drake x you#dc tim drake#tim drake x male reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#yandere batfamily x reader#yandere batfam x reader#yandere batboys x reader#yandere batfamily#batfamily x male reader#yandere batboys#yandere batfam#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x male reader#yandere dick grayson#dick grayson x you#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson#dc#male yandere
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