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ozarkthedog · 1 month ago

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𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐀𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

summary: Declan introduces you to a friend.

pairing: Declan O’Hara x afab!reader / Rupert Campbell Black

warnings: 18+ mdni. filth. unspecified age gap. oral sex (m). Declan calls the shots. fingering. edging. no m/m. slight anal play. dirty talk. squirting. rough sex. Rupert pushing the boundaries aka he’s a menace. cuckhold of sorts. male masturbation. cream pie. light, barely there after care. ep 8 spoilers. w.c: 2.4k

author’s note: i'm a Declan girlie but I had to write something feat. Rupert.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐬 ⋅ 𝐑𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Soft golden rays bleed through the aged windows of the O'Hara estate. Its owner, Declan, sits comfortably on a worn chair in the middle of his study. Books and papers litter the room, even on the small sofa adjacent to the chair. As the fireplace crackles, the bright orange flames warm your skin as you kneel naked between your employer's thighs.

Declan groans as he feeds you his cock. His thighs widen, as much as his unzipped trousers will allow, on the tattered chair, giving you more room to swallow him down. His heart beats steadily under his lush brown sweater as you suckle his cock while looking up at him under your lashes.

Declan enjoyed times like these when the house was empty, and he got you all to himself. With Maud gone, leaving everything to Taggie was unfair, so he caved and hired a housekeeper. Little did he realize he'd fall head over heels for you.

You both took your time dancing around one another like nervous teenagers at a school dance. Harmless flirting and late-night conversations over the meals you'd cook for him led to Declan taking matters into his own hands.

He was used to control. He enjoyed it, really. The power felt comfortable, and he had no issue wielding it.

Declan was still on edge one day after a trifling day at Coriniuim. His usual soak and cig in the tub wasn't helping. The radio was blasting ear-aching songs, and the water was getting too cold too fast, but that all changed when you walked in on him with an armful of fresh towels.

He took a chance, one that could've ended with him locked up, but you didn't run. You followed his dubious commands and let him exert his dominance, allowing him to reign over you.

Since then, you two have been inseparable.

"Ah, right on time," Declan notes, looking at the clock perched on the mantle in his study as the large front door creaks open.

Declan mentioned inviting a friend over earlier in the day, but you didn't think he meant now.

The sight of your wide doe eyes makes his gut fervently twist. He's always appreciated someone yearning after what was his, especially an individual so well-loved by the women of Rutshire.

"Don' stop, Love," Declan instructs. His Irish accent dips low as he curls a solid hand around your head when you start to draw back. Your wary, garbled sounds vibrate Declan's cock eliciting a hiss from his lips. He sends you a pensive look and keeps you locked as the steps draw near. "You know I like people ta watch, but I wan' to try somethin' new."

Your heart lodges in your throat. Declan had divulged this kink not long after the two of you began dating. It was harmless fun flirting with other men while Declan observed from the shadows like a deviant; the journalist grew feral until he could no longer hold himself back, scurrying off with you in his arms, leaving the poor target in a stupor.

No one could ever come close to Declan; you never want them to.

"I seem to have come at a rather inconvenient time, have I not?" A pondering English baritone fills the room.

Rupert Campbell Black.

With arms crossed, the affluent man leans on the rustic doorframe. He catches your uneasy gaze with a cheeky smile, prompting a wildfire in your belly.

Declan shakes his head, his thick mustache ticking excitedly, "Not at all. Come in."

You try to move again, but Declan doesn't budge an inch. Your brows knot in confusion as your hands fly to cover your exposed bits as best you can.

"Say hello, ta Rupert, Swee'heart," Declan instructs, his dark chestnut eyes alight with devilry.

Your gaze trails from the man's supple leather loafers and pressed lined slacks to the sepia colored dress shirt that exposes a svelte chest as the top two buttons are undone. Rupert oozes high society and overt confidence, the kind of man you'd go dumb even looking at.

"My, my, where has Declan been hiding you?" Rupert croons. His azure orbs fixate with dark intrigue at your naked, shivering form.

As you greet Declan's neighbor, a slight garbled noise barely registers to the men. Tauntingly, Rupert leans over and puts a hand behind his ear, "Sorry, Angel. What was that?"

Your belly flips, and butterflies flutter carelessly in the wake of being so degraded. Still, your cunt produces a wave of arousal and clenches around nothing.

Knowing he doesn't have much patience, you chance another look at Declan and wish you hadn't. His white teeth bared, and his lips pulled back into a light sneer, like a wolf facing down prey, waiting for you to heed his command.

Declan bites back a moan at the hedonic sensation of you stringing together a messy greeting for the affluent man.

Rupert snickers. "Aren't you cute."

"Thatta' girl." He praises before thrusting his length into your throat and cutting off your air.

He waits for a beat, relishing in the watery glaze that coats your eyes and how your chest heaves. Fidgety hands dig into his darkened slacks, knocking the loose ends of his belt. Drool spills down your chin and settles at the base of his cock.

"Ya know ya waited too long ta give Rupert a warm welcome." He fumes, his expression twisting lightly with displeasure.

With a soft growl, Declan eases his grip. You fall back on your heels, a blight, coughing up spittle and trying to suck down fresh air at the same time.

"Might I say, you've got a real treasure here," Rupert leers down at your messy face and spit-soaked breasts that make your nipples shine in the light. "Lovely to meet your acquaintance."

"Though' you migh' like a taste." Declan offers, looking up at Rupert like you weren't perched at their feet, anxiously awaiting their next move.

"Would I ever." A Cheshire grin tugs at Rupert's lips. He makes a show of folding his button-down sleeves over his muscular forearms as he stalks around you.

Declan beckons you with the tilt of his head, "C'mere, Love. I ain't done wit' your mouth."

You sniffle before taking your place between his knees once more. Declan can sense your worry as Rupert traces a finger down your spine while he crouches behind you. "Don' worry abou' him. He won' do anythin' out of line."

Declan taps his bulbous crown against your swollen lips, drawing your attention away from the blue-eyed beau. His sturdy thighs are a protective shield, enveloping you like a fortress from harm.

As curious fingers tickle your sticky thighs, your lips part with a gasp, allowing Declan to thrust into your warm, wet mouth.

"Jesus Christ, she's soaked." Rupert husks as he softly skims your glistening folds. Your cunt throbs from his unfamiliar touch, coursing a frightening spark of arousal up your spine.

"She's not 'ad much experience." Declan hisses as his crown breaches the tight confines of your throat. Your hand tugs at the thick base that's peppered with dark curls, fingers barely overlapping, pumping in time with his languid thrusts across your tongue.

"You don't say." The Englishman trails off, no doubt thinking of all the crude ways he could defile you.

As you start a slow rhythm, bouncing your head up and down Declan's cock, making the older man unashamedly moan, Rupert swipes his fingers across your seam and gathers all your shiny slick, drawing it up to your clit before lazily circling the tender bud.

Bright lights erupt under your eyelids. Blood rushes south, pooling in your core, heightening your suffocating lust as your body bends to his will.

"Ah ah, Angel." Rupert tsks, grabbing hold of your wriggling hips. His grasp keeps you stock still, unable to evade his voracious touch.

The pads of Declan's fingers press into your scalp as a soft warning. "Be good ta Rupert."

Being pushed and pulled between the two older men was agony of the luscious kind. You only knew of Declan's touch, the succulent highs and lows. The amorous sublime.

A gentle hand glides over your ass before massaging the plump cheek. Your frantic cries are a mumbled mess as you're pushed higher and higher into the pleasurable abyss from Rupert's caress.

He winds two fingers into your core, cursing from your tightness, and splays his dexterous digits along your walls. His thumb lands square on your clit, swiping back and forth with prowess. "So sweet and responsive. Such a good girl." he curls his fingers along your walls, drawing pathetic noises from your chest.

Your body rolls like waves, back and forth between the two men. Rupert's teeth sink into the tender skin of your ass before a gentle tongue soothes the marks and trails down the valley of your cheeks, causing you to choke around Declan's cock.

A wad of spit lands directly on your rosebud just before a wicked tongue ravishes the tight, untouched hole.

Your belly drops at his vulgar touch. No one ever touched you there before. A heavy wave of arousal slips from your cunt as you fight the urgent need for release. Rupert moans hungrily as he laps the rim of your ass.

Your incessant wriggling alerts Declan to Rupert's perverted actions.

"What'd I say, ya daft cunt?" Declan fumes. His mustache twitches as he shoots daggers at the man posed behind you.

Rupert swirls his tongue one final time before leaving your rosebud with a loud pop. "Sorry, chap. I forgot you haven't filled all her holes yet." The tug of his lips says otherwise.

Declan mumbles under his breath and leans back in his chair, focusing on you. "What'a fuckin' sight," he grunts, yanking your tear-coated face off his girth. His large hand completely cups the side of your face, making you feel like a doll with glossy, swollen lips as he stares at you like a man possessed.

Rupert twists his wrist, and your eyes grow wide as saucers. The need to come moves to the forefront of your mind. Declan can tell you're fighting, doing everything you can to hold back as you're slowly dragged to the edge.

Your jaw goes slack, and eyelids flutter; you're willing to endure any repercussions for coming without approval, but then Declan stamps your orgasm out just as quickly as it started.

"No, no, no. Don' be greedy," he tsks, shoving your dumbstruck face back down onto his length.

With Declan's cock stretching your lips and drooling pre cum over your taste buds and Rupert curling his fingers into the spongy spot behind your clit, your nerves scream for release.

The insides of your thighs are soaked, slick from want and a need held so close yet so far away. A soft cry falls from your spit-stained lips as Declan snatches your head off his cock and curves a large hand under your chin, holding you like a precious piece of art.

His opaque orbs sweep across your face, wild and feral; he's on the edge of breaking but holds steady like the stubborn man he is.

"Come on, Declan, let the girl come," Rupert implores to the stoic man holding captive your utmost pleasure.

The corner of Declan's lips tilts. He knows what'll happen. He can see it in your face, how truly gone you are, how nearly close the dam is to breaking.

"Go on, show 'im what he's missin', Swee'heart." Declan encourages, finally allowing you the taste you've wanted all this time.

Your body writhes in their combined hold with unkempt ecstasy as a ravenous cry fills the large study. You come like a geyser, locking like a vice around Rupert's fingers, forcing a curse from his lips as you coat his wrist and trousers with your creamy release.

"Jesus-" Rupert moans, dark and depraved, watching with rabid fascination as your core pulses in time to the beat of his heart.

Declan gathers you into his arms, away from the still man, propping your knees on either side of his thighs. "Sit on the couch and watch," he orders a dumbstruck Rupert before easing you down on his swollen cock.

A whimper catches in your throat from the obscene stretch as his girth widens your channel for the first time that day. Declan grabs your ass and steadily bounces you on his length, helping you rise and fall since your legs have turned to jelly.

"Gone so dumb, ya can' even move," Declan mocks. Coarse whiskers chafe your skin as he nibbles your chin, pouring filthy praises against your jaw, "Still so tight. Maybe two cocks'll do the trick," he drives his girth into your exhausted body. "Wan' your pretty cunt gapin' fa' me."

The seam of his brown sweater grazes your clit on every thrust; the fibers are soft yet overstimulating, your body boils, on the verge of combusting, and there's nothing you can do.

A low moan catches your attention, dragging you from your frenzied state. As you turn your head to find the strange noise, you see Rupert with his swollen cock in his hand, barely out of his trousers. His cock weeps, the bulbous tip pulsing red, while he sucks your juices off his glistening fingers like a man starved for days.

His animalistic gaze bores into where you and Declan connect. You can imagine how obscene it is. Declan's sticky balls thwap immorally against your ass. Sticky sounds bounce off the walls as he draws more slick from your core, staining the base of his cock in a creamy ring.

Rupert's eyes flit to yours. You silently mouth his name, playing with the man who's used the women of Rutshire like a kid with infinite toys. The subtle action pushes the posh man over the edge.

Biting his knuckles, Rupert spills over his other set with a ragged string of grunts. The image sets off a chain reaction. You follow suit, crying as you come around Declan's cock, and dragging your other half with you. Declan's thick brows furrow, groaning his ecstasy as he fills you with ropes of white.

The three of you gradually come down from the hedonistic scene. Your hearts beat to their natural rhythm as the birds outside sing a dusk setting song.

"T'was lovely to meet you, Angel," Rupert flirts, cleaning his cock with a handkerchief before tucking himself into his trousers. "Hope to see you again real soon."

"Fuck off, Rupert," Declan quips, jutting his chin toward the door.

Rupert sends you a wink before rounding the couch and exits with the fattest smile you've ever seen.

Declan mumbles under his breath and curls his arms around you. He tucks your head under his chin, letting you unwind comfortably before the crackling fire.

"Was that okay, Swee'heart?" Declan's asks with softened eyes.

With a satisfied sigh, you snuggle deeper into his hold, seeking the warmth and protective embrace he can only give. "More than."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

#declan o’hara #rupert campbell black #rivals #rivals 2024 #declan o'hara x reader #declan o'hara x you #rupert campbell black x you #rupert campbell black x reader #aiden turner #alex hassell

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plussizefantasia · 4 months ago

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Troubled Hearts

Read parts One and Two here: Fluttering Hearts Unsure Hearts

Warnings: guy being creepy, threats of violence, drinking (not reader) we're getting into the angst here guys sorry

a/n: hi, hello, I'm alive sorry for falling off the face of the planet. When I went to go grab the link for part two I realized that I hadn't updated this story since JANUARY!?!?! here is my formal apology: sorry. My goal is to have parts four and five up sometime this month so I can be ready to jump into CozyTober when it starts. Anyway, much love I hope y'all are still interested in the story if not I understand.

Kili Durin x Human!Soulmate!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Kili must hate himself, there is no other reason for why he’s putting himself through this. Months have passed since you had kind of sort of opened up to him and he couldn’t get you to do it again. He’d been spending his nights the same way, a constant presence at the bar. No matter the weather, the dwarf prince would be posted up on a stool. He slowly sipped the same pint throughout the entire evening and his eyes followed you like a hawk.

You would have thought that his attentions would have waned by now, you’ve been busy with the bar, Brant unable to keep up in his old age. You figure that he was letting you take control. You never really planned to set down roots in Dale, it was supposed to simply be a stop on your journey.

You had stumbled into the town late one evening and needed a place to stay, despite the tavern not being an inn and not technically having an extra room, Brant was kind enough to let you stay for the night, as long as you worked it off the next day. One night turned into a week, turned into a month and you realized just how much you enjoyed working at the tavern.

You enjoyed feeling needed, even if it was just to refill someone’s glass. You enjoyed putting in effort and watching yourself get better at all the different skills necessary for a place like this, and you enjoyed the subtle anonymity of it all. Nobody really knew why you were there and nobody had really asked either. Your past didn’t follow you and if you were lucky it never would. You had worked hard and carved out a little life for yourself here, a life that you loved.

Well, a life that you loved most of the time. Up until those nights when every man was just a little too drunk, every woman glared just a little too much and your skin felt just a little too wrong on your body. You did your best to let it all fall off your back, to push through and let yourself be lost in your work but you didn’t always succeed.

You were not sure what hour of the night it was, it seemed that within these four walls, time flew and stood still all at once. What you did know however was that you were getting sick of Roland’s jeers and jibes. You were sure that it was his way of flirting, but you had never really ascribed to the type of flirting where you tore the other person down in the hopes that they begged you to build them back up. Roland was a dick. It was as simple as that and if he thought he had a chance with you he was sorely mistaken.

He had yet to get that through his thick skull though. You balanced a tray of pints above your head with one hand and a tray of food in the other. You expertly wove in between patrons, making your way to the back where Roland and his men often gathered.

“Ah, here she is. Lovely lady with a body to match.” He didn’t wait for you to place the tray down on the tabletop next to him. He just reached his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. His hand digging into the flesh there and making you move towards him to try and get away.

“What do you think lads? Don’t we make a pretty picture?” There were slight nods from the men around you, most of them had eyes only for the ale you were still holding. You noticed that this was often the case. Roland spoke and told stories, he was loud but nobody ever really listened to him.

“I think… that I have more work to do so if you would kindly remove your arm from my waist…” You looked at him, arching an eyebrow. “Before I have to remove it for you.”

He chuckled deeply in his throat but followed your instruction and released you.

“Alright Gents, here are your pints and your pies, anything else for tonight?” Nobody spoke up, except for a few mutters of thanks. “Well, you know where to find me if that changes.”

You made your way back up to the front of house, sliding behind your bar and releasing a deep breath.

“I don’t understand how you do it.” You look up and into the eyes of the dwarf who just spoke.

“Do what Kili?”

“How you let him treat you like… that like you belong to him.”

You bristle at this. “I belong to nobody but myself Your Highness.”

“I know this, and you know this, but the brute doesn't seem to get it.”

“The brute is manageable Kili, he and his friends give this place far too much business for me to be anything less than civil with them.”

“Civil is fine, I just don’t wish to see you get hurt.”

“I appreciate that Kee, but I can handle myself.”

“I never thought you couldn’t, I just want you to know that you don’t have to handle everything on your own.”

“I’ve been on my own for a long time, it's not easy to give that up.” You see a customer flag you down a few tables away. “Know this, my dwarf prince, should I need protecting… you’re the one I’d ask.” You smile at Kili and pass him offering him a small smile as you get back to work.

The night continues much the same, people come and go. The group in the back gets steadily more rowdy and you glance at the clock every once in a while hoping that the hands will have moved further than they have.

You serve food and drink to several patrons throughout the night, most kind some not as much. You were being truthful with Kili when you had told him you’d come to him. You just didn't think you’d ever need to. Your past wasn't the nicest and you’d quickly learned to take care of yourself because the people who are supposed to take care of you won’t always be there when you need them to be.

The time flew by faster than you’d thought, you’d apparently been lost inside your head for most of the night. The only light was that of the candles on each table and the fireplace next to the kitchen which was miraculously still lit. You’re not sure how, it's your job to keep it going and you know that you hadn’t stoked it all night.

The darkness outside creeps into the space and more and more people begin their journey home. All your regulars settle with you or get glared at for their insistence that they’ll pay up next time. Eventually the space empties… mostly. Roland and his friends have settled a little but they still sit vigil in the back of the space, you lost count of how many rounds they’ve had but none of them are belligerent so it couldn’t have been more than eight.

“Y/N, Another!” One of his comrades yells toward you. You forget his name, Roland’s never-ending cycle of yes men made it difficult to learn names, so at some point, you’d stopped trying.

“I don’t know if you Gent’s noticed, but we’re closed. Go home, I’m sure your wives are wondering where you are.”

“What the old lady doesn’t know won’t hurt her.” The same man yelled out, his remark setting off a burst of laughter from his buddies.

“Come Y/N, one more round and we’ll leave when we’re done.” Roland turned his body to face you and what you imagine to be his attempt at a suave smirk graced his face.

“Sorry boys, but closed means closed, settle your tabs and go home.” You roll your eyes at the grumbling and whining that come from the group of grown men but do not sway in your decision. One by one they come and hand you some coin, some thank you and some say nothing but all of them leave as they were told.

Roland is the last to come up, as he so often is. “I don’t know why you spend so much time here, if you were mine you’d not have to work one more day in this place.”

“Well, I’m not yours and I like working here.” You place your hand on your hips and cock one out to the side.

“Yet.” Roland leans over the bar and licks his lips. You lean back in order to put distance between your face and his.

“Not ever.” You firmly reply. “I am your barmaid nothing more, the sooner you get that the sooner you can move on wooing the other ladies this wonderful town has to offer.”

“Ah, but none of these other ladies stir me as much as you do.” His grin becomes sharper and he moves even closer to you.

The space behind the bar isn’t very large, big enough for one person really, and with how far he’s leaning you can feel your back brushing against the shelves behind you.

“The only thing I want from you Roland is payment for your tab and for you to leave.” Your voice carried the weariness that was creeping into your heart, men like Roland rarely took no for an answer. You didn’t want to have to hurt him, it would be hard to explain.

“Such harsh words darling, I promise I’m not nearly as bad as you think I am.” He reached forward and grasped your wrist. You pulled away instinctively and his grip hardened. “I think you might even like it.” Your face screwed up and you bared your teeth ready to rip out of his hold.

“Get your hand off her.”

Your head whipped to the voice. Kili. Why was he still here? How long had he been here? How much had he seen?

“Piss off runt, this is between me and the lady.” Roland didn’t move his eyes away from you.

“Remove your hand from my One or lose it, you oaf.” Kili growled from the corner of the room. The sharp sound of metal reverberated from the space and if you thought the rage on Kili’s face was intense, it was even more striking with a sword in his grip.

Both you and Roland were looking at the dwarf now. Your lips had parted and your eyes widened. Not only because you were sure blood would be spilled tonight but because of what Kili said. A thousand thoughts ran through your head all in the same second. You had to shake yourself back to the present.

Roland’s grip on your wrist slacked a bit and you took the opportunity to bring your arm to your chest. Your eyes bounced between the two men. You looked around behind the counter, searching desperately for something you could use. You let out a breath when you caught sight of the wooden handle resting on top of a wet rag.

“Pay the lady and leave, like she asked.” Kili took a step closer to the brute his posture reminding you of a coiled snake, muscles tight underneath his skin and ready to strike.

“I do not take orders from dwarves.” Roland’s voice had deepened, his frustration bleeding through into every syllable. His hand reached out towards the axe holstered on his belt.

“You will either leave here with your dignity, or you will not leave at all. That I can be sure of.”

“Mighty words for an imp.” Roland pulled his axe from his belt and took a step towards Kili. As much as you might like to see the two fight, and you really did. You needed to stop this before it started.

You grasped the knife that had been lying on the towel and firmly drove it into the counter in front of you. The noise stopped both men in their tracks and they turned their heads to you, not yet dropping their battle stances.

“Enough. I will not be cleaning any blood off these walls tonight. Roland, you're drunk and daft- a combination no woman in her right mind would want. Leave and don’t show your face here again. There are plenty of other places to drink, choose one.” You look into his eyes as you rip the knife from the wood, pointing it towards him and gesturing towards the door.

He grumbles but holsters his axe and begins to leave.

“Oaf, you forget something?” Kili called out to him. You cut your eyes to the dark-haired prince narrowing your gaze on him. “Or are you the type of man to run out on his debt?”

Roland turns slowly and his hand flexes by his side. He takes a large breath before grabbing a small leather bundle from his coat pocket and throwing it up on the counter. Kili smirks and nods his head.

Roland lets out a low growl but continues on his path, pushing past the doors and onto the street. You don’t move until he turns the corner. At which point you deflate. Your head falls forward like a puppet without strings and you take a deep breath to soothe your racing heart.

“What was that?” Your question, head still bowed.

“What?” Kili takes a step toward you and you shoot up.

“What was that Kili!?” Your chest heaves with every breath you take. “I had it handled, I don’t need you coming in here and threatening people!”

“He put his hands on you!” Kili shouts.

“So you pull your sword?! I do not need a bodyguard Kili let alone one with a temper as bad as yours.” You throw your hand up and drag one across your forehead. “Know this, Your Highness, I have no intention of being claimed by you.” Kili’s eyes grow wide and he opens his mouth to speak, “Do not think I don’t know what a One is, I have traveled these lands for a very long time.” You interrupt him. “I have been claimed by far too many men far too many times, I told you, I belong to nobody but myself now. Do you understand?” You look into his eyes, waiting for a response.

“I have no intention of claiming you, I simply wish to share my life with you.”

“That is very sweet Kili, but you don’t me. You cannot possibly wish to spend your life with me.”

“Then let me get to know you.” He pleads, “I have never felt like this before.” He takes several steps towards you, pulling your hand into his own and looking up into your eyes. “They say that being with your One is the greatest joy a dwarrow can know. I have had a taste now, being in your space, speaking with you, hearing your laugh, and seeing you smile. It has made me feel more alive than any battle and made my heart more full than it has ever been. I will not force you into anything, I care for you too much for that but I will plead with you. Please amralime, give me a chance to make you as happy as you make me. Let me stay by your side and know you not just as a friend but as a partner, through all things.”

His words steal the breath from your lungs and the beat from your heart. They make you feel like you're flying and sinking all at the same time. There is a part of you, deep down that is screaming for you to give in, to let him love you.

“Kili I-” You pause, “I am tired. Tired of a great many things. I-I I think you should go.” You turn from him and blink back the tears that flood your eyes. You hear him sigh followed by the creek of the floorboard he stands on as he shifts his weight. He does not speak though, simply drops his arm from where it had been holding your hand and makes his way to the door.

You hear it open and your shoulders tense, the chill air floods into the room and nips at your skin. Then the door shuts and you're alone. Not for the first time, you question if this really is all for the best.

taglist: @bunnybabe-babydoll @kokochanel111 @shiinata-library @oneiratxxia10 @targaryenteam @sunnysidesidra @shadowrose13-blog1-blog1

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