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Am I The Problem? | Franco Colapinto x Williams! Reader
Summary: After finding out you were going to be teammates, you and Franco have very different reactions. Franco is prepared to worship the track you race on whilst you do everything to ignore him. Until it becomes impossible to
Warnings: angst, swearing, the loss of a family member, a suggestive comment
Requested: Yes by anon (full request)
F1 Masterlist
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williamsracing just posted
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liked by jensonbutton, jackdoohan and others
francolapinto dream reality
18,200 comments
williamsracing welcome to the team. we’re so excited to have you become part of the williams family
user1 so they’re replacing logan, an f2 driver promoted to f1 too soon, with an f2 driver promoted to f1 too soon?
officialmpmotorsport we’re very proud of what you’ve achieved this season, and good luck in f1
user2 this doesn’t feel fair. he’s getting a seat (amazing) but will be paired with a driver who doesn’t want him there
dennis_hauger 👏🏻👏🏻
user3 has anyone checked on yn? she was always so happy to be racing alongside her childhood friend, and now they don’t even get to finish the season together
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and others
yn_ln i knew i was going to have to say goodbye at some point but i never expected it to be so soon. i couldn't have asked for a better teammate but at least you’ll always be my friend. i’ll miss you so much, lo lo, but i will be there supporting you wherever you go next
23,096 comments
logansargeant 🤍
→ user4 signs of life!
→ user5 the fact that she is the only person he has responded to
user6 even when she’s devasted, she stays respectful. literally the perfect role model for girls in karting
user7 chat, do we think yn will stay with williams next year?
→ user8 i don’t think she even wants to stay with williams for the rest of the season
→ user9 she looks so miserable any time she’s with them/james vowels
user10 poor franco. she didn’t even congratulate him on any of the posts
→ user11 because she doesn’t have to
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yn_ln posted a new story
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logansargeant replied wow so i really am easy to replace → yn_ln lo, no… → logansargeant how many more times are you going to fall for that? → yn_ln dickhead → logansargeant the internet was right. you are the personification of satan → yn_ln 🖕🏻🖕🏻
oscarpiastri replied haha the heart eyes are winning you over → yn_ln you can’t say anything, lando lover → oscarpiastri 🙄
user12 replied girl, did you cover up James’ face? 😂
francolapinto replied is that me??
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Thumb scrolling down your feed, you couldn't stop the wounded look twisting your face. Numerous tweets glanced back at you, informing you that your teammate’s fans had a very low opinion of you. Was it really a shock that you wouldn’t like journalists hounding your teammate? Had you truly been that mean to him that signs of basic human decency came as a surprise?
The door to your driver’s room was cracked open slightly, allowing you to catch a glimpse of the disconsolate body that shuffled past. A cap covered his usual mop of curls and his head hung low. All he wanted was to hide away in his driver’s room. Away from the hustle and bustle of the garage. All alone.
“Franco.”
A soft voice broke him from his sorrow. He’d never heard it say his name before, and he’d certainly never heard that gentle tone directed at him. His head snapped up in disbelief. Spinning around, he moved too fast and stumbled slightly. A pink flush decorated his cheeks, realising he’d just embarrassed himself in front of the woman finally talking to him. Your head poked out of the gap between your door and the wall. Almost hesitant to bridge the space between the two of you. You weren’t even fully aware of when you had moved, or decided to talk to him. But here you were, staring at his brown eyes, widened with scepticism.
Committing to your actions, you pushed yourself into the hallway. Unused to such close proximity to you, Franco took two shaky steps back. He could almost feel the wall behind him.
“I heard about your grandfather. I just wanted to offer my condolences.” Your teeth pulled at your bottom lip. “The media were out of line this morning.”
“Oh, thank you.”
Uncomfortable silence stretched between the pair of you. A need to fill it swelled within you.
“Nobody would blame you if you needed the day off. It’s not like we’re going to win any points in the Sprint.”
“I bet you’d like that. A race without me,” his tone was sharp, edged with grief.
It was a stark contrast to the light, playful timbre you’d become accustomed to hearing around the garage. Hurt briefly flickered across your face, causing him to almost regret his words. But he’d had enough.
He was tired. He was hurt, and he was not in the mood to be treated like he wasn’t there. Every day he hoped that you would finally speak to him. That you would smile at him, or share the glowing personality you had around the rest of the Grid. When he was still in F2, he’d been lucky enough to spend a day or two with you, and you’d been so warm and inviting. But, the person he was introduced to when he replaced Logan Sargeant hadn’t shown any sign of the person from before.
“Wait, what? No. Franco, I just… Look, I found out from Twitter and-”
“It’s not like you give me the chance to tell you things in person.”
Rubbing your hand over your face, you pondered whether you were doing more damage than good. All you wanted was to make amends, and not treat him like shit on a shitty day. Realising you couldn't make things worse, you decided to own up to your less-than-stellar behaviour.
“Franco, I just wanted to say… I don’t really know what to say. Other than that, I am so incredibly sorry for the way that I’ve acted these past couple of weeks. Believe me, I’m not proud of my actions, and it’s been made very clear to me that I could be ruining your dream.”
Your feet very subtly shifted closer to him, and his body was acutely aware of the smaller window of space between the two of you. The hairs on the back of his neck raised when the scent of your perfume invaded his nose. He loved that smell.
“I’ve been so terrible to you. The internet knows that I’ve been terrible to you. And what makes it all that much worse, is that it doesn’t really have anything to do with you.”
Franco watched you inhale deeply before barrelling forward with your heartfelt apology. Your nose had pinkened from the exertion of your speech. Franco decided it was the most adorable thing he’d ever seen.
“The truth is, I was angry. I was angry at the team, and the management, and the way they treated Logan was horrendous. But I didn’t realise that I was then doing the same thing to you, and I’m really sorry. I’m aware that none of this justifies my behaviour or makes it right but I just need you to know how much I regret what I’ve done. You’re so talented, Franco. If you had joined the team at any other time, I would’ve been flattered that you were so excited to be my teammate. I still am and-”
“Querida, breathe.” Franco’s lips curled in the corner. A small smile but the first time he had done so since yesterday. “I get it. You’re sorry. You were still mean though.”
Your heart fluttered at the affectionate term he’d used. After years of working with Spanish drivers, you’d picked up a few words here and there. Unfortunately, his following words ruined any hope you’d felt.
Scuffing your shoe against the floor, you avoided looking at him. “I know. I know. I don’t know how I’ll ever make it up to you.”
Franco reached out, taking your hand into his. His palm was warm and heated against your cold, almost clammy one. He was endeared by how nervous you seemed to be. At his touch, your head finally lifted to look at him. You were taken aback when your eyes met his, realising he was already staring at you.
“You could always give me your seat.” He let out a booming laugh at the look of shock on your face.
“Oh, I get it, you’re winding me up.” You pushed him away from you but your combined hands just ended up pulling you into him.”
“I wasn’t lying in those interviews. You really are one of my idols. It’s going to take a bit more than a tantrum for me to be mad at you. However, if you really feel you need to make it up to me, I’m not going to object.”
A body turned the corner, causing you to leap away from the Argentinian. His eyes twinkled as he did his best to keep his face neutral. You scrambled to compose yourself when John, your physiotherapist, glanced between the two of you. He raised his brows before walking past you and into your driver’s room.
“You have 30 seconds, Yn, to finish your conversation and get your ass in here.” He closed the door behind him, allowing you some privacy.
Franco turned to walk away, knowing you liked to run on a tight schedule, and not wanting to infringe on that when you seemed to be making a shaky form of peace.
“Dinner!” You blurted out, voice bouncing off the white plastic walls.
Staring at his muscular back, you watched his shoulders shake with silent laughter before he turned back to look at you.
“What about it?”
“Do you eat it?” How were you making this worse!?
“Yes, every day.”
He wasn’t making this easy on you.
“Maybe, if you’re not busy this evening, I could buy you dinner when we get out of here.”
“It would have to be early. I don’t know if you know this but I have a very busy day tomorrow.”
“I think I prefer not talking to you.”
“I’d love to have dinner with you, Cariño,” Franco smiled, “so long as you don’t spend the entire meal sullenly glaring at me. It seems to be a habit with you.”
An irritated shout of your name sounded from inside your room, reminding you that you were well past your allotted thirty seconds.
Not wanting Franco to have the last word, you looked at Franco before you entered your room. “I’m not sorry that I snuck an LS2 cap into your pile of hats to sign.”
His face turns from pure adoration to unadulterated offence. “That was you?!”
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yn_ln just posted
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liked by jv.f1, lewishamilton and others
its_yn my boy 💕
23,431 comments
williamsracing took team bonding to a new level
→ francolapinto i aim to please
user13 i knew that episode of team torque was carrying a different kind of tension
→ user14 no because he was so giggly and she was giving him full on banter
→ user15 let’s not ignore how she kept blushing when she caught him looking at her
user16 she fell victim to the heart eyes
→ yn_ln how could i not? have you seen how intense they are?
user17 oh no because now how do we tell who the biggest simp is
francolapinto my lips are still waiting for that kiss
→ yn_ln come here then
→ francolapinto 🏃🏽🏃🏽💋
→ user18 oh no. now we have to deal with this instead
logansargeant excuse me but where is his shirt in that last picture
→ oscarpiastri completely scandalous behaviour. reported
→ yn_ln piss off the pair of you
→ logansargeant @/oscarpiastri pay up. she did my thing first
→ oscarpiastri technically she did my thing first
→ francolapinto she did both in the same day
→ yn_ln franco!
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requests open. they may just take a while
coming soon; max taste part 3 and toto thirst
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She's My Collar
Sandor "The Hound" Clegane x Baratheon Princess
+:✿ Request ✿:+
Request: “This request is for sandor of course!! I am all for angsty, yearning sandor clegane!! My train of thought is all over the place but heres a list of something I hope you could include in the one shot: •hozier level yearning •unrequited love/want •perhaps stark!reader or baratheon!reader •fleeting interactions like something small but it sticks with sandor •“im not a religious man but ill follow her” kinda vibe if that makes any sense!!" CW: MDNI, ANGST, afab reader, alcohol consumption, unrequited love, yearning, misogyny, arranged marriage, violence, joffrey being joffrey, mention of death. A/N: He’s pathetic and I love it
Word Count: 5K
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꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
The girl was born a Baratheon, born to Robert Baratheon during a previous marriage. Her mother, born to some wealthy house. But her memory would be lost in time after she died in childbirth. Robert did not speak of her. Cersei despised the mention of her name. So not much was known of her. Though she must’ve been pretty, as the girl born to Robert Baratheon was a girl of beauty. And soon after her mother’s death, Robert married Cersei Lannister.
Either due to jealousy or embarrassment Cersei would treat the girl with malice, and hostility. But unlike the King's eldest son, the girl was kind and good.
The boy was born to a man who wanted nothing more than for his sons to be knights of the Seven Kingdoms. His ambitions blinded him, allowing his eldest son Gregor to commit horrid acts. So long as the boy was a knight, none else mattered. The man's youngest son was kind. He was just a boy, no more than six years old.
The little boy dreamed of being a knight just as his father did. Dreamed on the good deeds he would do in the name of his king and the Seven Kingdoms. Though those dreams would be dashed and discarded once the boy's older brother showed him the cruelty the world is capable of. The cruelty he was capable of. The cruelty the world rewarded him for.
The boy grew into The Hound, Sandor Clegane the second most feared man in the Seven Kingdoms. The girl grew into a princess, one hated by her stepmother and eldest half brother. But loved by her father, her half siblings, the realm, and by a Hound.
꒰ ୨୧ ─
The Hound and the princess grew alongside one another most of his life. He could remember when he and she were much younger. The Lannisters and the Baratheons were traveling across the Stormlands. It was a hard journey, soon food became scarce. Naturally the scraps of whatever the royals did not eat were left to the guards and any other member of the traveling crew. But the princess would offer a young hound the meat from her plate every night. He always hesitated, but was too hungry to deny her charity. She never held her charitable act over him, never even mentioned it.
He was not one to appreciate beauty, nor was he one to indulge himself in fantasies of love. But the princess’s beauty was one that haunted Sandor. His whole life he looked at her as though she were the maiden herself. And the princess did not look upon the Hound with grotesque curiosity. Nor did she flaunt his presence to others in a manner of threatening them. No, the princess was kind towards him, kind when she did not have to be. He often found kindness a weakness in people, but in her kindness he found a comfort.
The girl was different from her father, different from her brother. She was kind, she was honest, and he would follow her as if she was a God.
He could also remember the first time she bestowed her favor onto him.
Sandor never feared the tourneys he fought in. He did not fear the joust, he did not fear the competitors. What he did not like was the tradition of asking a noble lady for her favor.
Sandor never liked this tradition. Never liked having to speak to noble ladies much less ask them to favor him. Not only was it ridiculous to him, the ladies often grimaced at his gesture. But at this tourney, and every tourney after it, he would pick the lady he wished to have picked each time before.
As he rode his intimidatingly large black ill tempered stallion around the tournament pit. He looked up at all the noble ladies above him, looking down at him. They all sneered at his gaze, wishing not to be picked. The noble men all snickered amongst one another. But there was one person who looked upon him with indifferent eyes. The Baratheon girl’s eyes were not filled with pity, disgust, nor anticipation for the violence he was about to insight for the high lord's entertainment. She simply watched him with her same kind eyes.
He did not think much of it, it came naturally to him as he stopped his horse in front of the royal family's seating. “I ask the favor of the Princess.” He said begrudgingly.
The princess rose from her seat with a smile. She grabbed a ring of florals and silk. The flowers were yellow and the silk ribbon was black, the colors of both her house and his. As she approached him, she smiled upon him and placed the favor upon his joust. “I wish you good fortune, Sandor Clegane.” Sandor, he did not know she knew his name. Her voice itself was gentle and hushed, only for him to hear. Her smile was gentle and warm, one that he would have killed to see each night. One that he won the tourney for.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
Once, Joffrey had decided that a servant boy had shot him a momentary disrespectful glance. If he had, it would not have been unwarranted, though who is to say if he even did. Joffrey, sometimes bored, would pretend small disrespectful gestures were made against him. Allowing him to justify any horrid act he found amusement in subjecting any poor soul to.
“I am sorry, my prince! Please if you would give me another chance-” The servant boy pleaded on his hands and knees. His cheek red from the blow Ser Meryn had given him moments before.
Sandor never liked being Joffrey's sworn shield. Never liked that blonde cunt at all. Whenever he wanted to feel powerful, wanted to hurt someone weaker than him for no good reason, it bored and irritated him.
Though it hardly ever embarrassed him, until she stepped into that room.
“Brother stop this!” The Baratheon princess commanded with a look of disgust. Sandor, though he’d not laid a hand on the boy, swallowed hard and stood straighter at her sudden presence. He worried how she’d look at him now, would her kind eyes fade for him?
“Why should I?” Joffrey asked her back with a raised brow.
The girl, bravely scoffed and took a few steps closer to her younger ‘brother’, “Because I commanded you to.” She said with angry eyes, an expression Sandor rarely saw from her. She looked beautiful even when she was angry.
Joffrey narrowed his eyes at her, “Who are you to command anything of me?” he stifled a laugh which only enraged her more. And only enraged Sandor more.
She took another step closer to him. Her hand gently trailed along the extravagantly dressed wooden table. “Your elder sister, the Kings first born-”
“First born daughter.” Joffrey finished her words for her. “Daughter. You are not heir to anything. I’ll be king one day and you, a princess for a lifetime.” He said laughing as if he were amused by some great jest. “And as your king, I could have anything done to you that I like.” He walked closer to her, with a threatening gaze. “In fact, as heir to the throne, I could do anything I like. I could have Ser Meryn hold you down and-” And with that the girl's temper got the better of her. She grasped a glass goblet from the table she stood by, and threw it with great force at her brother’s feet. The goblet shattered into a hundred pieces. Bits of it flew and cut Joffrey’s right hand. And some other bits cut Sandor’s cheek, not deeply but enough to bleed. “You cannot do that!” His shrill voice cracked as he grasped hold of bleeding palm.
“Clearly I can.” The girl said with little emotion. It would have made Sandor laugh if he didn’t have to worry about the other royal guards. He worried that they would put their filthy hands on you, or would be foolish enough to draw their swords.
Though none would. The guards were shocked by the scene. This princess had never done so much as raised her voice, and now she was assaulting their future kind. They had to think of defending one of the King’s children from the other. They stood, unsure of how to act.
Furiously Joffrey shouted, “I’ll tell my mother!” Knowing his father would do nothing but ridicule him.
The princess raised her hand, and slapped the boy across the cheek, “Tell her I did that as well.” She added.
Her slap was enough to leave a red imprint across the boy's face.
In a fit of anger, the young prince grabbed hold of his sword. Prepared to draw its blade and point it at the princess. Just before Sandor could grab the prince, a different Kingsgaurd stepped between the two royals. “Stop this!” the man commanded. Joffrey let go of the sword's hilt and the girl began to walk away, ready to face whatever punishment her step mother desired.
With her back turned, and the guards' attentions divided. Joffrey ceased his moment, and drew the thin blade of his sword and readied himself to strike the princess.
“Boy!” The princess turned back as the Hound’s loud voice boomed out through the dining hall. She was stunned by the sight before her. The prince’s attack was stopped by the Hound ceasing the blade with his bare hand. Blood from his hand trickled down the blade of the sword.
꒰ ୨୧ ─
Soon the two royal children were brought before their father the King.
“How the fuck did any of this happen? You are meant to protect my blood!” King Robert questioned the KingsGuard furiously.
“Never had to protect a princess from a prince.” Ser Meryn attempted to explain, “Or a prince from a princess.” He said in a lower tone that angered Joffrey.
“Shut up!” King Robert angrily shouted, sick of hearing whatever excuse they had. He sat back in his chair, and huffed loudly. He looked between his two children. “Well done, my girl.” He said in a gruff low tone.
Joffrey looked surprised his father would congratulate her on striking her brother. “But look what she-“ Joffrey began, holding up his cut palm.
Though Robert interrupted him, “How could you ever be a king if you cannot win a fight against a woman?”
“Father!” Joffrey’s shrill voice shouted,
“Leave!” Robert shouted back. With an infuriated huff, Joffrey left accompanied with two guards by his side. Though Sandor stayed in the room. “Girl, come ‘ere.” Robert commanded much softer to his daughter, waving his hand, beckoning her to come closer.
She did as her king commanded. Stepped closer to him with her head lowered. Robert stood before her, and held her chin up with his fingers. “You’re more of a man than your brother.” He said proudly. He meant it as a complement, it was a rare thing to receive as a child of Roberts. With a sigh he patted the girl on the back, “Go on then.” He said softly dismissing her.
She nodded and took her leave as her father requested.
As the girl left, Sandor turned to follow her out. Though the King’s voice beckoned out, stopping him in his steps. “Dog.” Sandor stopped, and turned towards the King, “If that yellow haired shit lays a hand on my girl you beat him.” The King commanded. Sandor needed no other instruction. He was quite content to do so. “Understood?” The King pressed.
Sandor nodded, “Aye.”
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
As the Hound walked down the Halls of the keep, he saw the princess walking in the opposite direction. He tried to keep his eyes ahead, not looking at her at all.
Though his illusion of disinterest did not deter the girl, “I beg pardon, ser.” Her serene voice called out gently. It felt like a cool breeze on a hot day, a relief.
Sandor looked up at her, hoping she was not speaking to him. If she was, he knew whatever words she spoke to him would haunt his thoughts. As he looked at her, he knew she was speaking to him. He swallowed and then croaked out, “I’m no ser.”
The Baratheon princess shook her head, “No. You are more true than any knight.” He knew her words would haunt him, but now they would torture him. The girl stepped forward, making him almost flinch, “All the knights in that room were content to let my brother kill me. What you did today-“
The girl began but the Hound interrupted her, knowing if she thanked him, his stomach might turn. “It’s my duty to protect you.” He grumbled, attempting to not look the girl in the eyes. Her beautiful eyes.
“I’d call it brave.” She chimed, making him stop and turn to face her once again. He was about to tell her it was not brave but she continued, “But I know you’d not. You are a hard man with many scars. You needn’t courage, nor praise. But I thank you for what you've done.”
Fuck.
He was never thanked for doing his duty. Never thanked for anything. He was commanded and he did as he was told.
Her eyes wandered over the Hound’s face. It made him feel weak, for the first time in a very long time. “I am sorry-” She said, her voice sickeningly sweet. Sandor looked at her with confusion, “Are you hurt?” She asked as she reached her hand towards the cut on his cheek. Her sudden movement made him flinch.
“No.” He rasped quickly.
The girl however was scared of the Hound. She continued forward and placed a hand on the Hounds shoulder. Even though her hand was separated from his skin by his thick armor, he still felt a chill run over his body. “Oh but you are-” She began, concerned for him. A feeling that was new for him.
“It’s a scratch.” Sandor interrupted the girl.
She shook her head, “Still, I caused it.” The girl reached into the neckline of her gown, making Sandor almost blush. Such a strange thing, a man who had seen every part of a woman, and every sexual act no matter how deviant in almost every brothel in KingsLanding would blush at such a thing. She pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with her name, “Take this.” She said holding it out to him.
He could not take it. He could not, no matter how badly he wanted to. “Don’t need it-”
“I command you to take it, as your princess.” The girl said without hesitation. Reluctantly Sandor grabbed the cloth, “I am sorry.” She said once more before continuing on and walking past Sandor.
She did not know that he would worship that cloth. Keep it in his armor, and keep it in his rooms when he slept.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
When Robert mixed drinking and hunting too often, a boar attacked him. Leaving him so injured he was on a deathbed.
The princess visited her father each day, morning, noon, and night. And when he died, she stayed confined to her chambers. Her only company she’d allow was her Septa. Though the girl was grown enough to be without a Septa, hers was closer to a mother. Since the girl never had one, her septa was there for all her girlhood. So she insisted on keeping around.
Sandor often checked on the girl, though of course she was not wise to this.
He would open her door, just a crack. He would listen in just to be sure she was alright. One day when he decided to open her door he heard her and her Septa speaking plainly.
“Do you think the boar was the Gods doing?” The girl asked as she stared out her window with a stoic and dazed expression.
“Hm?” Her septa responded, looking up from the needlepoint she mindlessly toyed at.
The girl did not look at her septa. Simply continued to stare out her window into nothingness. She paused for a moment, not speaking, “I’d a dream the Stranger came to those woods. He changed into a boar and killed my father for his deviance.” She spoke of such morbid dreams with no emotion attached to it at all.
“How awful.” Her septa gasped, throwing her needle point down onto the table in front of her. “No dear girl I don’t think it was.” She said more gently, “You dream too much.”
The girl shrugged, still not looking at the old woman. “I suppose I’m trying to find the Gods in everything I do.”
“Prayer is best for that. Not such morbid dreams.” The old Septa said, picking her needle point back up.
The girl did not respond for a moment, still simply staring out into nothing. “Do you think they’re real?” She asked softly and without shame. “Do you truly believe it? Never did you doubt it?” She asked, finally looking at the Old Septa.
“They are real.” She asserted sternly, “You believe they aren’t?”
The girl sighed, not wanting for a lecture, “I know the Gods are a necessity for people. Like food, water. I know they must exist. But I also know they don’t.” She said calmly. Her words stuck with Sandor like a knife driven into his back.
“What a terrible thing to say.” Her septa said shocked.
“Is it?” The girl's eyes narrowed in confusion, “It’s just my thoughts.”
The septa shook her head looking back to her needle point. “You think too much, dear girl.”
The girl sighed and went back to looking out her window, “Seems I do too much and not enough.”
Without many words at all, this lonely girl would consume Sandor’s every thought. She was smart and kind. Two things Sandor did not think of himself.
He did not believe in the Gods, because if there were Gods, why did they punish this girl? Perhaps she was his punishment. Perhaps he was hers. Perhaps it was the world that was their punishment.
This girl should be queen. She’d be a good one, a better one then her cunt brother. She’d be loved by the small folk and no doubt able to keep some kind of peace, even with the war. She’d not let her pride keep the seventh kingdom. If they wanted independence they’d have it. Clearly they could fight well enough on their own. But she was not queen. But she was his.
How her hair laid against the delicate fabric of her pillow. She was all too precious for his affections. He couldn’t help it really, he felt drawn towards her. Felt a stronger pull towards her than he felt towards anything, even food or water. But he’d never subject her to his presence.
He simply needed to see her, needed to know she was safe.
She slept sweetly, her breathing though loud was the calmest noise he’d heard. It was like the sounds of waves meeting the sands.
Sometimes, not often, but sometimes he would fantasize about what it would feel like to sleep beside her. For her to invite him into her bed. To sleep in his arms. He’d feel her heartbeat against his own. He’d smell her scent, and feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. He never slept well, but he believed if she was in his arms, perhaps he could.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
As time went by, the royal family debated what to do with the girl. She was not a Baratheon Lannister, she was the reminder of Robert's first marriage, a reminder that Joffrey was not the true king.
Sandor stood guard by the small council’s chamber door as he heard the girl’s step mother Cersei say, “She’s as wild as the boar that killed her father. No man would want her, she is too difficult. So give her to the Tyrell’s, a poisoned gift.”
Overcome with a myriad of emotions, anger, sadness, and grief, Sandor rushed to the girl's chambers.
Sandor stood behind her door. His hand firmly grasped the door handle, and his forehead rested against the wood of the door.
He stood there for what felt like an eternity.
He wanted to open the door, ask- no beg you to run away with him. He wanted to tell you all the things he felt for you. Wanted to protect you.
But he was a second son, a kingsguard, he had no land, and no money. He had nothing to offer you, he didn’t even have a handsome face to bargain with.
And so, he let the handle of the door go, and he walked down the hall. He considered it mercy.
꒰ ୨୧ ─
Instead of subjecting that poor girl to his company he decided to subject tavern dwellers to him instead. That night, as her marriage was announced, Sandor sank into his cups.
Though even there he was not protected from talks of her betroval.
Beside Sandor at another table were four men,
“Say what you will, I think it’s a perfect match! Loras Tyrell loves a Baratheon!” Some oaf shouted as he slammed his cup onto the table laughing.
“Aye but she’s missin’ a cock now isn’t she!” A shorter guard shouted out.
Sandor wanted to break the fool's jaws for speaking of her situation with such amusement. “Too bad for Loras, and too bad for all the other men in the realm!” A bald guard added,
The shorter guard raised his cup, “Hear hear. I’ll miss seeing that girl… Miss seeing her bend over to pick flowers.”
The bald guard nodded in a facade of sadness, “Aye that ass will be missed-”
“No, her pair of tits will be missed!” The fatter guard spoke up.
“Nay her cunt! Ah and what a waste she’ll be giving it to a boy whore.” One of the men said, it was enough for Sandor to slam his cup onto the table in anger. He was trying with all his might to hold onto his restraint.
Though this did not go unnoticed by the men at the table. The oafish one spoke up again, “What of you Clegane?” He said getting closer to the Hound, “You guard that sweet stag so loyally. Surely you’ve thought of what her cunt tastes like-”
Without another thought, Sandor took the man by the back of his head and slammed it into the table. His nose broke and his teeth cracked. Sandor took his dagger out and stabbed it through the man's hand. His blade took one of the man’s fingers.
Sandor stood, taking his drink with him, “You speak to me like that again, I’ll take more than a finger.” He warned as he left the tavern in a huff.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
Against his better judgment, that night Sandor checked in on that girl.
She was with her Septa again. He hoped that she were alone, if she were perhaps in his drunken state he’d have actually begged her to run off with him.
“My father would never have allowed this.” The girl said with a scared and sorrowful waiver of her voice, “Though I suppose it will be a relief to be gone from this place.” She sniffled, “I just don’t want to be forgotten.”
“You’ll not be forgotten, dear girl.” Her Septa said petting her hair.
“I suppose if I were to marry anyone in this city it would be him.” She shrugged, “But, I am unsure of how I could please him. You know of his nature. Know of his relationship with my uncle. I care not for any moral righteousness and I hold no judgment of it. But how could I ever make him happy?” She asked desperately, frightened by the prospects of her future.
Her Septa grasped the girl by her shoulders tightly, “You will make him happy by giving his children royal blood.”
“And how can I even do that?” The girl put her face into her hands,
“You are familiar with the act, I have explained it-”
The girl interrupted, “I won’t want it.”
Her Septa sighed, “A dreadful duty for some wives. Just lay there. Look at the ceiling and memorize the pattern of the trim. Count the seconds. Anything to let your mind wander away from your body.” She tried her best to comfort the girl, but clearly was doing nothing to help the girl’s fear.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
As Sandor took leave of his duties. He threw off his armor without caution, and nearly ripped his clothing off himself. He was angry, no, he was enraged.
This girl did not deserve this. She deserved none of the shit those blonde shits put her through. And the words of ‘advice’ given to her by her septa only enraged him more. She should have told her to slip poison in his wine.
Sandor sat down on his bed in his small clothes with a huff. His weight made the bed creek and bow. He drank from a wineskin as he thought of it all. Soon his anger subsided, replaced with a defeated sorrow.
Naught could be done for her. This much he knew for certain.
So, after his wineskin ran dry he laid down. Finally allowing his body to rest even though his mind could not.
As he laid there, stripped of his armor and steel. As his sensitive skin laid against the rough material of his bedding he was reminded once more that he, and his body were punished. Punished by both too much, and not enough.
Too much combat, too much drinking, too many tourneys, too many cuts and bruises. So much he endured, and his body was punished for it. He ached and felt pains all over his body all the time. His scars were sensitive and hurt in warm bath water.
But as he laid there he was again reminded how he had not enough. Not enough gentle touches, enough love and care. Though of course he’d never admit it to anyone. His body felt truly alone in his bed. He wished he could have felt her around him. He’d fucked before, that would not shock anyone. But he’d never made love to anyone. And Gods did he need to.
He thought of it often, kissing her. He’d do it gently. He’d be gentle with her. She deserved gentleness. He’d kiss her while he held her face in his palms. Kiss her neck, press his lips against her skin and lick where she was most sensitive- wherever those spots were. Gods he wanted to know where they were.
He felt shameful for thinking this way, he really did. He was no better than those men in that tavern. But, he’d be good to her.
He’d make her his wife, in the eyes of The Seven. He’d build her a home. It wouldn’t be like the one she’d been brought up in. Not a castle, but a house made of stone and wood. He’d give her safety, love. And as his hand began to wonder his punished body he thought of how he’d give her children.
He wished to know how her body would feel in hands. How it would feel to have his hands caress her breasts, the curves of her body, the soft plumpness of her belly. He wondered how it would feel to be inside of her. How his cock would feel to slide in and out of her slick, warm, inviting cunt. He did not know, but he did know it would have felt oh so much better than his calassed hand that was wrapped around his length now.
Though his actions were vulgar and sexual, he did not think of it as that. He couldn’t think of her for long without feeling the need to have her. To be close to her. To please her. To hold her close and make her feel safe under his touch, to make her feel loved and desired with his body, his hands, and his mouth.
He thought of what her septa told her. That she’d have to lay down and take it. If she was with him she’d want it, she’d never be forced. Bedding would be a pleasure not a duty.
His groans loudened, and his breathing quickened as he thought of how she’d ask him for it. How gentle her touch would feel on his ruined skin.
Soon he was awoken from his day dream as the hot splash of his release jolted his mind back to reality.
He did not have her, and she for all he knew, did not want him.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
And so the Hound was left with nothing to do but sit and watch as the love of his life was preparing to leave his life forever.
He felt his heart breaking as he escorted the royals to the docks with the rest of the Kingsguard. He felt his eyes water as she began to step onto the dock, and approach the boat that would take her away from him.
Naught could be done for her.
So without a word the Hound offered the girl his hand. She took it, gently. He helped her into the boat. Her gaze fell onto him, and Gods it felt warm. He wanted to cut through them all. Wanted to take her off that boat and ride her away on Stranger. He’d do all the things he thought of the night before. Build her a home, keep her safe, and he’d love her. But they didn’t live in that world.
The princess would marry that Tyrell. She’d have his sons, whether she wanted it or not. And she would never know how much her dog loved her.
The Hound watched as the boat sailed away with the girl he had loved all his life.
It’s the world that’s awful.
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Thank you so much for your request! It was so much fun to write!!
Requester: @rhinestonecowboysworld
#sandor clegane x reader#Sandor clegane#got x princess reader#sandor x reader#sandor the hound clegane#game of thrones x reader#sandor clegane#got x reader#got hc#game of thrones#the hound#got#sandor headcanon#sandor#sandor clegane fanfic#the hound fanfic#sandor fluff#sandor fanfic#sandor clegane smut#sandor clegane fic#sandor clegane x you#sandor clegane fluff#sandor fic#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfic#sandor clegane angst#sandor angst#sandor smut#game of thrones smut#smut
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HONEY DON'T FEED IT, IT WILL COME BACK
₊ ⊹ JASON TODD
in which working undercover alongside your ex-boyfriend feels like cruel and unusual punishment. like a feral hound—he keeps coming back into your life.
CW | ex!jason, petty old lovers, miscommunication (prior), reader riling him up, cursing, and somewhat ambigous ending (somewhat). 1.7k words. 🎧ྀི
you have to stop letting yourself get involved with JASON TODD. two years ago, fine. but now, you know better. or you should.
working with him is entirely different than being with him—or that’s what you tell yourself. at least vigilantism allows you to ignore his jeers to focus on dodging attacks, rush ahead of him when he tries to bring up the past, or turn off your comms if he grates on you too much.
unfortunately, you can't pull any of your normal tactics this time. not for this job.
you thought the undercover gig selina offered you was a 'one night only' sort of thing, not an entire week. Your mind could never have conjured spending seven painfully awkward days in a honeymoon suite playing blushing newlyweds with your somehow everpresent ex-boyfriend. either way, your current situation is aggravating beyond whatever you're getting paid for this.
besides his usual mouthing off and brooding, jason's been tolerable. like a bad dog gone old, not sweet—but just tired enough not to bite. you’re so unused to jason being docile, it almost aches. and maybe that's why you've been so...unruly.
unruly enough to snag yourself a date while undercover. you knew it was stupid before you did it, but said yes the minute your eyes latched onto jason's. it was the most of a rise you'd be able to get out of him the entire job. it had felt vindicated in the moment. but you played an idiotic hand, his cards trumping yours. for split second he reacted, but just as quickly as it had appeared—it vanished.
he was good at keeping his calm in public, when he had to. but he always boiled over eventually. always saved for private places and so intense. he can’t help it, you think, being so much. he has to let it out, like a poison.
his composure faded for that split second when you both entered back into the suite, voice low, snide, and angry—all to fizzle out with a huff. "go on your stupid fuckin' date. ruin the whole mission. i don't care."
he had said it so nonchalantly. as if merely speaking to you was utterly beneath him. such a reaction was new. in the year you dated him, and the two years that have followed, you've known jason to get mad. you expect it. you can always count on being able to push his buttons just enough. hell, he could count on doing the exact same to you. but the silence that followed his words, the calm way he sauntered off into the bathroom—that completely destroyed whatever game you'd built up in your head.
you got ready in spite of his strange behavior. did your hair, pulled out one of your prettiest dresses, and dabbed on a perfume he had bought you, still half full and primarily only used for special occasions. you left the room with a slam of the door.
the date was terrible to say the very least. he was loud and with a penchant to only discuss himself or his sports betting. you left before you could get your entrée, making up an excuse and promising to definitely reschedule. too embarrassed to return so soon, you took your time getting back to the hotel. three stops and one impulse purchase of a street hotdog later, you stepped back into your honeymoon suite. a cruel fate.
jason's in the bed, propped up with fluffy white pillows and ignoring you, reading an absolutely tattered hardcover. you neglect to break the silence, opting to take your makeup off in the bathroom. your waterproof mascara peels on your lashes, and you can only take so many seconds of scrubbing before you give up.
you pace around the room a bit, lost in thought as you remove your jewelry. you feel undeniably silly for risking your cover for a vengeful and shitty date. selfishly, you still blame jason for it. maybe if he hadn't whispered, "don't mess this up, act like you like me. people are watching." at a couple's excursion, or on a group hike after you laughed at one of his jokes and he muttered, "not too much, it's not real."
he was always on edge and he took everything so personally. the last two years have been a constant competition with him. a brutal tug of war that neither of you can seem to win. where he goes low, you're ready to go lower.
you're broken out of your trance by a firm grip on your wrist, followed by jason's gruff voice, "stop putting your shit on my side."
you look at him baffled, "it's just earrings. sorry i didn't want to crawl all over you to put them on my nightstand."
"save us both alot of trouble if you just didn't wear 'em." he mutters, grip loosing on your wrist. his eyes don’t leave yours, and there's an eerie firmness in his stare.
you yank yourself away fully and glare down at him, "i wasn't aware my existence bothered you so much."
jason rolls his celadon colored irises, "existing doesn’t bother me. you messing with everything does."
there's a beat of silence. you’re not sure what to say back. there's a dissonance now—and it's too quiet. it feels wrong. you wait for the sardonic retort, the simmering anger under the surface. instead, he sits back relaxed, casually tossing his book aside.
"you went on that date to get under my skin, didn’t you?" his brows narrow and his voice is rough, but there's no fire behind it, just resignation.
"does it matter?" you fire back, crossing your arms over your chest. "you said you didn’t care, remember?"
"yeah, well, i lied." he admits, his eyes finally meeting yours fully, the weight of his words lingering in the space between you.
you stand frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the confession. you’re so used to his biting remarks, the endless back-and-forth. this is new—too straightforward, too honest.
“you lied?” you repeat with an inflection, unsure whether to believe him or not. this could easily be another one of his plays, another way to draw you in and then shove you back out again. the cycle.
he huffs, running a hand through his messy hair before sitting up straighter, hands falling to his thighs. “yeah, i lied. big shocker, huh?” there’s a hint of sarcasm, but it’s mostly exasperation. he’s tired, as if he's finally had enough of the game.
you don’t know exactly what to say. so many little fights, all the times you both pushed and pulled, trying to get a reaction out of each other—it all feels hollow now. the tension’s still there, but it’s shifted, less sharp, and more fragile.
“why?” the earnest question slips out before you can stop it. you don’t know if you’re asking about his lie or why he’s admitting it now, but you ask regardless. too nervous to try and make yourself more clear.
his eyes flick up to meet yours, and for once, there’s no mask, literal or physical. just jason. your jason.
“because i do care,” he mutters, almost begrudgingly, like the words are the most difficult thing he's ever faced. “i always fuckin’ care, and that’s the problem, isn’t it? you think i don’t give a damn, but i do. too much, probably.”
jason never talks like this—had never. never let down his walls in this way. perviously the most you got was a huff and a murmured "i'm heading out".
like he’s cracked open a door that’s been locked for years, you’re both standing on opposite sides, unsure of whether to step through or slam it shut.
“then why do you act like this?” you ask, voice softer but still confused. “why do you make everything so hard?”
his lips press into a thin line, and he exhales sharply. “because it’s easier to be pissed off at you than admit how much i miss you. how much i hate seeing you with someone else, even if he's a fuckin' loser.”
“jason—” you start, unsure of what to truly say. a mixture of slight annoyance and reverence sit in your chest, your mind spinning to find the right words, “do you mean this? or are you jealous? because i’m not going to start this up again just for you to push me away when it starts getting serious.”
his eyes narrow, despite himself, “see? much easier when i’m just pissed off at you.” he shakes his head, sighing, “of course i fuckin’ mean it. i don’t lie to you. never have, sweetheart.”
you're still staring him down, the last of your resolve fading out, "you're serious?"
he tilts his head back, eyes closing, "for once, yeah."
you move to sit beside him on the bed, watching your legs bounce instead of replying. jason sits up straighter, and you can see him staring down at you from your peripheral. he's fiddling with his thumbs, a trait you associate with him muddling over his thoughts. probably contemplating exactly what you are: where to go from here?
his fingers brush against yours and he clears his throat, "i don't expect anything. hell—you don't have to want anything to do with me after this." he pulls his hand away from yours slightly, "i'm an ass. i've been angry for... well, a long time. but mostly at myself, for fucking it up with you. and i wanted to tell you."
you take his hand in yours, not missing the way he freezes up at first. still shocked by your comfort. you take a breath before you look up at him, "thank you," you start with what's easiest. "i like it when you care, when you tell me."
he hums, staring down at your interlocked hands.
"i've missed you too, jason. it's no fun pretending i don't." you keep your tone gentle.
a second follows, and then the dam breaks. jason leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. such a simple gesture, but so unlike jason todd. there's nothing inherently romantic about it, and it's not desperate or solemn—merely human. human vulnerability so rarely displayed willingly.
you don't pull away. you could, and you know you could. but no part of you wants to. you're perfectly fine to sit like this forever. it soothes you in a way you weren't aware you needed soothing.
there's no fight left in either of you, at least none for each other. there's no kissing and making up, no loud voices and slammed doors—nothing like how it once was. just a sincere conversation and baby steps, but in truth, it's the closest you've come to reconciliation in years. and it feels good, healthy—saccharine.
you don't make any promises, nothing set in stone, but you stay like that for a long time. soaking in each other's presence. and when sleep becomes unavoidable, it's jason's arms you ease into.
#jason todd x reader#jason todd#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd x you#redhood x reader
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Heaven & Earth 🌍 | Gladiator II Imagine
My Masterlists
Characters & Pairings: Emperor Geta x Empress!reader
Content Warnings: fluff, comfort, depictions of mental illness, mentions of pregnancy, soft!Geta, historical refences and mythology (not completely accurate to the timeline) | female!reader (she/her) like three uses of Y/n | wc: 4.6k
Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)
Premise: In which the mighty Emperor Geta of Rome becomes the beacon of light pulling his Empress back to Earth when the Gods of Mount Olympus visit her mind in an attempt to beckon her to a place where the Heavens and Earth crash alongside each other.
note: yes this based and inspired by Queen Charlotte and basically the reader has the condition George has. I apologize in advance for any potential mistakes and inaccuracies, I am not an expert or professional in regard to mental conditions please be mindful of that and kind when leaving comments or critique. Thank you.
dilectus meus = "my beloved," in Latin
-----------------------------------
“My Emperor!” The shout echoed, bouncing off the palace walls, racing footsteps in its wake as the servant rushed to the man she searched for. Finding him at the end of the corridor with his guards walking as they readied themselves to greet General Acacius upon his return to Rome. “Please, Emperor, a moment of your time!”
Gruffing, irritation painting his visage, Geta pivoted to face the servant, making them come to a freezing stop feet away from where he stood. Out of breath and red in the face from chasing the sovereign. Geta’s gaze turned hard, “What is it? What is so important you have hounded me at a time like this--.”
“Forgive me, your Majesty, it’s the Empress,” the servant was bold to interrupt Geta, but they did so anyway despite the dire consequences. However their intuition was right as they watched the Emperor’s face shift from anger to panic.
It was then Geta realized the servant as the main attendee to his wife. Alba. Who’d been with her since she was still in the care of her father and step-mother. A constant figure in the Empress’ life who saw first hand the torment that plagued Y/n’s mind. Normally Alba was successful in bringing her back to Earth, but her state of duress told Geta it was out of her hands and Y/n needed him.
In a hurry, Geta brushes past her, ordering him to follow and his guards trail closely behind. “When did it start?”
“Only minutes ago. We finished her hair and nearly completed her glamour when I noticed she became silent. I tried calling her back but then she started saying the usual things when this happens.”
“The Gods and Olympus?”
“Yes, Emperor,” Alba confirmed, eyes watering as they approached the chambers. Even after so many years, the suffering of the Empress brought anguish to the maiden. And to her fellow servants, who cared deeply for their Queen. “I cannot place what is responsible for this sudden fit,” her voice drops to a whisper, so only Geta heard her. Yes, the guards close to the Imperial couple had knowledge but still they wished to keep matters private from prying ears.
“Likely the upcoming celebrations of her father’s arrival,” Geta spoke aloud, turning the corner hastily. The doors of his chambers came into view and he heard the gentle voices of his wife’s servants trying to coax her from her state. “Fetch warm milk from the kitchens and honey bread. She’ll need that once I’ve brought her back.”
“Yes, Imperator,” Alba bows her head before turning on her heel to head in the opposite direction toward the kitchens. Geta continues on, passing his wife’s guards who appear in just as distress as the maids as they stand at the doorway. As he enters the chambers, everyone freezes.
His eyes scan the room, his wife nowhere to be found but the doleful expressions of the servants confirmed she was there. Hiding somewhere. The vanity was in disarray, rings scattered across the surface and on the ground, indicating she likely removed them in her fit of stress. Face paint spilled against the smooth marble. The vase full of lilies shattered, leaving water and petals puddled together.
“Where is she?”
The servant pointed to the bed, “underneath, my Imperator. She refuses to come out.”
With a wave of a hand, Geta orders, “Leave us.” And like birds flocking in the sky, the servants and maids ushered out of the chambers. The guards posting themselves outside after closing the door with a loud *click*
Now standing alone in his chambers, away from the eyes of his staff, Geta relaxes his shoulders with an exhale. Mentally preparing himself as his attention turned toward the grand bed where the sound of heavy panting filled his ears.
“Darling?” he calls out softly, feet carrying him to his side of the bed. Upon hearing her shaken, “yes,” Geta kneels himself onto the rug, lifting the sham to peek underneath the bed, where he finds his beloved wife laying on the feathered rug covering the wooden floors.
Geta’s heart tightened at her state. Body stiff as the statues that adorned the palace grounds. Eyes wide and fearful, lips quivering as she attempts to calm her breathing. Chest heaving at a fast pace, thankfully slowing by the second. Beads of sweat on her forehead, glistening against the golden headpiece the servants had managed to place atop when they finished styling her hair. The makeup beneath her eyes smudged from the tears cascading her cheeks. Face flushed with shame and embarrassment. Geta wanted nothing more than to remove the distress from his wife and free her from the storm her mind bestowed on her.
A ball of black fur was nestled against the Empress’ side. Ears peeking up followed by bright green eyes, revealing her beloved cat Nox. The animal was a gift to her on their wedding day to assist her when times like these occurred. A companion for when Geta was occupied.
“It’s been quite some time since this happened,” he muses, tucking the sham into the mattress so his view is not obscured, never taking his eyes away from her as he removes his flowing cape, discarding it on top of the bed. “The last was before we were gifted the babe growing in your womb.” He peeked down to see the slight swell of her stomach protruding against the fabric of her dress.
“I--I’m so sorry,” her voice croaks, sniffing as she fights to hold back another wave of tears. “I do not know--know why today this--.”
Geta shushes her, a whimper leaving her mouth, thinking she displeased him. Refusing to look at the man, Y/n hears shuffling and from her peripheral catches her husband lay his back on the rug before scooting beneath the bed. Inch by inch until he finally reached her side. The warmth of his hand radiated against her palm as he took it in his. Softly stroking the bare knuckles lacking rings. The loving gesture a means to bring comfort.
“The Gods visited you, my darling?”
Her breathing finally calms down at the gentleness in his voice, swallowing the saliva that formed in her throat. Still, she stares at the wood above her, unable to meet his gaze. “Mars--Mars and Venus--they watched from the shadows. Juno stood--stood behind me in the mirror. I--I willed them to leave, to not bother me on a day like this--but they refused, saying I was to follow them home.” shuddering, the Empress squeezes her eyes shut, the darkness welcoming with open arms. “I did not wish to make a spectacle, husband. Especially today with all that’s been prepared. Forgive me, please.”
“There is nothing to forgive, love.” Geta assures her, lifting the hand he clutched to cradle against his chest. Letting her feel the rhythmic beat of his heart. “Just focus on my voice and my heart. Let me guide you as you return from your journey to Olympus. Our little one needs you to be calm, my love.”
And so the rulers of Rome laid beneath their bed for what felt like hours until the Empress fully rejoined her husband back on Earth. All the while Geta stroked the hand perched on his chest, bringing it up periodically to kiss her fingertips and whisper words of love and affirmation into her skin.
His thoughts drifted to the past when he felt her relax. To when he first met the woman who captured his soul and would become his Empress. Stunning the court as Geta had never planned to marry and simply enjoyed the pleasures being the Emperor afforded.
It was an accident. The two were never supposed to meet. For she never attended public events at the palace with her father, the esteemed General of Rome, Marcus Acacius and her step-mother, Lucilla, the adored daughter of former Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Their daughter was a mere mystery, hardly anyone besides close members of the Senate had knowledge of the woman.
The origin of her condition was also a mystery. Marcus' first wife, Y/n’s mother, passed during childbirth leaving the General to raise her on his own. She was mostly in the care of maids and servants when he was off to fight Rome’s wars, therefore Marcus did not know what shadowed his beloved daughter's mind until he witnessed an episode himself shortly after her seventh birthday. That’s when her primary caretaker, an older woman by the name of Daphne, confessed to the General the fits began two years prior.
Most men would be ashamed. Might go as far as to send their child away. Disowning them to be left to the bloody wolves of the world and to not dare claim their sire’s name furthermore. For a child who lived between the Heavens and the Earth was unheard of. Who’s state of mind would relinquish them from any sustainable future.
But General Acacius was not that man. His daughter was his life, and the memory of his wife whom he adored. It would be the ultimate sin to discard the child as though she were the dirt beneath his feet. His late wife would drag him to the Underworld herself should he dare.
No, General Acacius vowed to protect and love his daughter the moment she entered the world. He would uphold it until his last breath.
He only let the best of the best care for the girl. Paying them an Emperors wager to ensure her needs were met and she felt safe in the walls of her home. To bring her back to Earth when the Gods of Olympus called to her and he was unable to return her himself. By the time she reached the age of ten and Marcus remarried Lucilla, he and the staff realized her fits were brought upon by stress and situations that unnerved the girl.
Y/n was granted freedoms with few restrictions. She was tutored with the best education provided, allowed to roam the gardens, have animal companions, and interact with the children of Acacius’ colleagues when they visited the home. Daphne close to her, the older woman knowing when to step in and remove the girl as the features on her face would consort and she’d stare off into the distance momentarily before the flood of emotions consumed her.
After Daphne passed, Alba entered the picture. And she, Marcus, and Lucilla were the only three able to pull the young woman from the Heavens. Until she met Geta.
It was a spur of the moment decision. Marcus and Lucilla were summoned to the palace to attend a feast celebrating the founding of Rome. He himself had dismissed his staff to allow them to enjoy the festivities the night held. And he could not leave his daughter alone, but there was no one to watch her while they were gone. In the end, it was Lucilla who convinced Marcus to allow her to accompany them to the palace. For she had not endured an episode in months since her nineteenth name day and it would do well for her to be exposed to their peers. Not to mention she’d be beside them the entire time, and they’d depart immediately if she became overwhelmed.
Marcus had no issue until it came time for them to greet the Emperors. Geta and Caracalla seated in their thrones, flanked by their companions who fed them grapes and produced goblets of wine. He witnessed with his own eyes the sudden shift in demeanor from Emperor Geta when his gaze landed on the young woman. His bored expression consorting to one of intrigue and interest. Flooding the general with uncertainty.
He continued to find Geta seeking his daughter throughout the night. Observing her from afar or purposefully conversing with guests in their proximity. Not hiding the way his brown eyes flickered to her in an attempt to lock their stares. Then Marcus discovered the two talking by the feast table, Lucilla having been pulled into a conversation by a Senator allowing Geta to swoop in and steal the young woman’s attention.
Marcus did not miss the way his daughter’s face lit up. In awe of the man before her and completely immersed in whatever it was they were talking about. Geta too, possessed an expression no man had ever seen before. As though he was in the presence of a Goddess.
And when Geta summoned Marcus at the end of the feast with his intentions, the General cursed the Gods for putting him in a position that would threaten his daughters livelihood. The decision determined her fate.
“You deny me, Acacius,” Geta sneered, anger penetrating his tone and visage. “I have proposed to you the gift of a lifetime. I desire to make your daughter my Empress, and you dare voice opposition!?”
Calm and collected, the General simply bows his head before saying, “Emperor Geta, any man would be thanking the Gods for this generous offer, but it is my daughter’s well being I put above all else in this world.” Of course he was not blind to the gruesome reputation Geta and his brother had developed. Bloodthirsty rulers who enjoyed making spectacles of their enemies. No stranger to the violence they enjoyed from Glatorial battles. He’d be damned to let his precious daughter marry a man who’d expose her to distressing events that’ll trigger her.
“You’re foolish to even think for a moment this was anything but an order.”
Now that was what Marcus was afraid of. That Geta had already made up his mind and wasn’t asking for permission to marry Y/n…. he was announcing his intent to marry her.
“My Emperor,” Marcus pleaded, “I cannot let you decide this without informing you of my daughter’s condition. And I ask for you to reconsider to allow her the freedom of scrutiny from the people of Rome.”
Geta’s head tilts, confusion painting his form, “Condition?”
Marcus takes a deep breath, feeling the pounding of his heart against his chest. Praying to the Gods for mercy for his daughter should the emperor deem it necessary to exile her. “From time to time, my daughter experiences these episodes that overtake her state of mind.” Geta’s expression shifts, like he understood what the general implied considering his brother also experienced fits. “It’s happened since she was a child. Often triggered by stress or when overwhelmed and usually lasts minutes,” he explains with a shaky exhale, “It is as though her mind lives between the Heavens and the Earth. Where our Gods visit her, beckoning her to come with them to Olympus. Once she’s pulled away it is difficult to return her back to herself as she’s consumed by the emotional distress. My wife, her caretaker, and myself are the ones able to draw her back when her mind is elsewhere.” Licking his lips, eyes trailing to the floor, Marcus finishes by saying, “it is why I’ve never brought her to these functions till tonight. She needs stability, she needs peace. And forgive me, my Imperator, for speaking freely but marrying her to you frightens me for what she may experience without us there to care for her.”
Any man would be warded off at the revelation, but Geta was not deterred. He maintained his proposal, for he was smitten by the beautiful maiden that waltzed into his palace and tore down the marble walls he built around his soul. She was a breath of life in the otherwise dreadful environment surrounding him. He would prove Acacius wrong, and stand by his beloved during her times of need.
Returning her to Earth when the Gods come to take her.
In the month leading to the Royal wedding during their courtship, the soon to be Empress moved into her own private chambers in preparation to assimilate to the life ahead of her. Geta showered her with gifts and anything she dreamed of having. Chocolates and wine, jewels and gold. Their love blossomed with each passing day.
The first time the Emperor witnessed her experience a visit from the Gods, Geta wished nothing more than to switch places. He’d approached her chamber door to wish her goodnight when the commotion raging inside filled his ears. The guards posted in front of the doors stiffening at the sight of him. Hesitating to open the doors when he ordered, but when they did Geta entered to find his beloved pacing hastily. Her hair in wild disarray, indicating they’d just taken out the braids when the episode occurred, and robes untied leaving her sheer nightgown to the naked eye.
Geta saw her lips moving at a fast pace, spilling out incorrigible words jumbled together. Eyes blinking a mile per minute, and hands trembling as she spoke to a presence they could not see. It broke his heart to see her in such distress. Wishing nothing more than to free her from the torment that plagued her.
Her head-maiden/caretaker Alba pleaded with tears in her eyes for her to return home while the other servants observed with sorrow. “My Lady, focus on my voice. You are safe. You are loved. You are home. Order them away and return to us, sweet lady.”
Eventually, and a shock to those in attendance, Geta was the one to calm his beloved and return her to him. Attending to her with care no one expected the Emperor to possess. Then again, it was rare for onlookers to witness him calm his brother when he had an episode.
When the woman finally steadied her breathing, she broke down into a heap of sobs into Geta’s chest. The Emperor winding his arms around her figure to shield her from the world, murmuring sweet nothings against the crown of her head. Only lifting his head once to order the servants out to grant them privacy, but not before ordering Alba to retrieve warm milk and honey bread for his beloved.
That night they had their first argument. Y/n begging Geta to withdraw his proposal and let her return to her parents. So that she would not be a burden to him and an embarrassment to Rome. He deserved a better wife. One that will be an image of Venus as Empress of Rome, who would not curse his line with a condition that pulled them away from Earth. Geta refused, confessing his love for her and that he would never be able to find a woman to capture his mind, body, and soul like she has done.
“Look at me!” she pushed away from his hold, tear streaks smudging her makeup and hair an untamed mane. “I am unwell! My mind cannot place where I am--it is like the Heavens and the Earth collide--!” She takes her fingertips to her temples, the tears flowing like a waterfall. “The Gods--the Gods pry me from the ground--they take me away! I cannot subject you to a life of worry that I’ll have a fit in the middle of a Senate meeting or in front of the people. They will tell you to rid yourself of me--to take a new wife and return me to my father. Why wait when you can do that now and save yourself the shame--!”
Geta grasped her hands in his, pulling them to his chest so she felt the beat of his heart against her palms. The steady rhythm grounding her as his brown eyes penetrated her own with intensity. “Listen to me,” He demands with firmness, but not the type to frighten her. “I do not care what the Senate--or anyone of Rome thinks, you are what matters to me. No one will ever amount to the light you’ve awakened in me. Gods be damned, I will not let anyone take you away.” He keeps one hand clutching hers, the other moving to cup her cheek. “I will stand with you between the Heavens and the Earth. I will tell you where you are.”
They were married the next morning, neither waiting to swear themselves to the other beneath the Gods and before the people of Rome. General Acacius gave his daughter away, watching with glistening eyes as he witnessed the two souls entwine. Lucilla not shying from her emotion, dabbing the tears that fell with a handkerchief. Emperor Caracalla looked on with a neutral expression, not rejoicing but not averse either.
The Royal couple trotted the streets of Rome in the carriage, waving to the people who cheered and threw rice and flowers their way. Blessing their new Empress and thanking the Gods for her. Geta held onto her hand the entire journey, pressing soft kisses to the skin to remind her of his presence whenever he caught beginning to dissociate. Pulling her from the Gods before they had the chance to take her.
Months later, following a delightful honeymoon, the Empress experienced another difficult episode when she was delivered massive news from the Royal physician. Geta was attending a Senate meeting when a guard approached him, immediately departing when told his wife was indisposed.
“What brought this on,” he commanded the servant walking with him, who’d been the one to pass the message to his guard.
“She did not digest her morning meal, my Imperator,” they explained with a stutter, “and has been plagued with fatigue the last several days that she ordered the physician to examine her.” Worry etched Geta’s face, picking up the pace that the servant was practically running beside him. “Forgive me for informing you of this--for I know the Empress would rather be the one, but she is with child and we suspect this fit is a result of the news.”
Geta freezes, the air catching in his throat as his brain processes what was just bestowed to him. Warmth fills his chest, and before he knows it a tender smile graces his features. A stunning sight to those around him.
His wife was with child. He was going to be a father.
Suddenly Geta remembered where he was and who needed him. Shaking his head as he hurriedly walked down the corridors to their shared chambers. He orders the servant to the kitchens for warm milk and honey bread, the guards taking their place outside the room while he enters on his own. There he finds Alba alone by the doors of the balcony, a gentle expression on her face looking at something on the floor. While his wife’s cat, Nox, perches himself on the nightstand.
“Where is she? They said she was in here.” Geta questioned, panic in his eyes that he could not see his wife. The panic turns into worry when Alba points to the bed.
“She’s laying underneath,” she tells him with a frown.
Geta rushes over, kneeling down to lift the shame, face dropping when he discovers Y/n shivering on the fur rug laid beneath the bed. Wet cheeks and chest panting up and down as she catches her breath. Glancing up, he waves a hand to Alba as a gesture for her to leave them. The maid bows, closing the chamber doors on her way out.
“My darling, why are you under the bed?”
“The Gods, they--they cannot find me here,” she croaks, staring blankly at the wood as the voices drown out to muffles and the stars leave her vision. “It’s quiet under here.”
Laying on his back, Geta shuffles onto the rug to the space beside his wife. Reaching for her hand when he gets comfortable. “You are right, my dear. It is rather quiet,” her skin is soft under the thumbs stroking her knuckles. “Very peaceful if I must say.”
“Please accept my apologies, husband,” she sniffs, free hand wiping at her face. “I did not think they’d remove you from your meeting.”
“Forget the meeting. It was tiresome and if I’m honest I was planning to leave anyway right as my guard approached me.” Her light chuckle relieved him, the emperor turning his head to stare at her side profile. Taking in her beautiful face as though she would vanish from thin air and leave him. “What ails you, my love? What did the Gods want today?”
The Empress’ bottom lip quivered, making his heart sting as he felt her pain. “The physician told me something,” another sniff leaves her, followed by a lone tear. “I’m with child, Geta. And I know I should be overjoyed, thanking the Gods for this gift and celebrating with you--.” she tilts her head away from the bed frame, facing him instead and allowing the emotion to release. “But I am afraid. I fear for our child--that they will endure the same as me and I cannot fathom it.”
Geta leans over, cupping her cheek with the hand not holding hers and stares deeply into her eyes. “Look at me. No matter what happens, whether our child is touched by the Gods or not, we will stand and take this passage of the unknown together. They will be safe and loved, with you as their mother protecting them. No God will pull them from Earth, we will tell them where they are. Understand?”
The Empress nods, bottom lip jutted out like a child in need as the tears leaked from her eyes. Geta tilts her jaw up, bringing her mouth to his in a sweet kiss to seal his vow and remind her of his devotion. They remain beneath the bed for a few minutes until she’s calm, Geta pressing loving kisses to her nose, cheeks, forehead, and lips. His hand moved to her stomach, caressing the silk clad skin where their child grew. Conceived of their love.
The birth of twins Marcus and Marcella brought celebration to Rome. Citizens crowded the gates of the palace with gifts, games in the colosseum held in their honor. Followed by the anniversary of the Royal couple where the golden statue of the Empress was unveiled. Every night Geta held her after tucking in their children, murmuring words of affirmation to lull her to sleep.
Time went on and her visit from the Gods became distant. Sometimes brought on by the worry of her father at war or the state of the Empire. Then after the twins second name day they were blessed with the news they were with child once more.
Now here they were beneath the bed of their Royal chamber months later, Emperor Geta of Rome consoling his beloved wife as he guided her back to Earth. The babe nestled in her womb grew while their twins slept soundly in their nursery until it was time to wake them. Her father had likely arrived at the palace by now and Caracalla was waiting for them to appear so they may greet Acacius together.
But Geta would not leave their bedroom floor until his Empress was ready. Till the Gods left her alone.
“Thank you,” her voice brought him out of his thoughts, gaze lifting to find the eyes he adored staring back at him with absolute tenderness. Glistening against the speck of light able to reach them. The Empress conveyed all the love in her tone as she spoke, “Thank you for standing with me. For always telling me where I am.” Warmth erupted in his chest, Geta never breaking eye contact as he brought her hand to his mouth, his own eyes glistening.
“I will fight for you until my last breath. I love you, dilectus meus.”
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An Education in Malice — Part Seven
Pairing: Vanserra!Reader x Azriel
Summary: With the sharp tongue of your notorious family, you are Azriel's most tantalizing challenge yet. It only takes one small meeting before you both realize that the line between hate and desire is dangerously thin.
Warnings: brief mentions of abuse, beron being a pos, deep self-reflection for both az & reader, a conversation, a confession, and a turning point
Word Count: 5.6k
a/n: this is not properly proofread yet, i couldnt bring myself to read it fully since i was getting self-critical and wouldve never posted
Part Six | Series Masterlist
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
The early morning mist still clung to the open fields as you crossed them. Eris stood alone in the expanse, throwing a ball for his hounds. The movement was fluid and practiced, and you found your mind wandering to memories of decades prior —- memories where Eris stood in the same spot, throwing the same ball at younger pup versions of the dogs. Laney trotted beside you as you approached, her pace quickening as she saw the others.
A brisk chill made you pull your coat tighter, but the fabric did little to ward off the cold. It was always peaceful out here, away from the burdens and bustle of the court itself, and Autumn mornings had a cool air that made you feel real, made your skin feel alive.
Eris’s eyes were already on you as you approached him, eyebrows raising momentarily as you took a stand next to him. You mirrored the action back to him, crossing your arms and pulling them tight against your body.
“What’s that look for?”
He gave a casual shrug. "Surprised you've spared some time for me in your incredibly busy schedule.”
You scowled. “You’re so dramatic.”
He chuckled, a low sound that seemed to vibrate through the crisp air, and his lips twitched upwards in amusement at your annoyance. “You’ve been gone a lot.”
Your gaze bounced around his face. He seemed tired— more so than usual, and the freckles on his nose seemed to be less prominent with the lack of color in his skin. You casted an absentminded glance towards the overcast sky before meeting your brother's eyes again.
“Have I?”
Eris hummed. “You have.”
He pulled at the cuffs of his sleeves.
“I’m surprised you noticed,” you said, “You’ve been really busy too.”
Your answer pulled another raise of his brows.
“Of course I noticed,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes that matched the amusement in his tone. “It was so quiet here without you terrorizing everyone.”
You rolled your eyes and Eris grinned at his own words, a look of satisfaction rolling through his features as you scowled deeper.
“You’re not funny,” you said.
He let out a wistful sigh. “On the contrary, little sister,” he mused, “I’m hilarious.”
You threw him a withering glare and his grin widened. He nudged his shoulder against yours. A few hounds scampered back to him, Flint proudly carrying a small red ball in his slobbering jaws. Laney bounded alongside, followed closely by four hounds.
Eris moved gracefully, bringing his body down into a squat to offer a flat palm to Flint. The ball landed in his hand with a small thud.
"The male you’re sleeping with, do you care for him?"
Eris’s voice was so calm, so casual, that you almost didn’t catch what he’d asked you. He didn’t bother to look at you.
You took a sharp intake of breath, looking down at him with widened eyes. “What?”
Eris stood up straight as he tossed the ball back into the distance effortlessly. You watched the hounds race after it, Laney's determined strides putting her ahead of the pack as they joined the others in the field. When you looked back at Eris, he was studying you— waiting for your response.
“Well?”
Your heartbeat quickened and you frowned, pulling your arms tighter against your chest. "What are you talking about?"
He raised an eyebrow, casually pulling a small handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?"
You stared at him, feeling a knot of tension tighten in your chest. Your nails dug into your skin through the fabric of your coat. Eris continued, his voice steady. "You've done a great job at covering the scent. But you can't fool me. Don't forget who taught you those tricks."
His eyes were simmering as they met yours again, the amber in them flickering with something guarded— something concerned. You took a steadying breath as you weighed your options. The easiest one was to deny that there was any male at all, to attempt to outplay your brother at the one game he knew best. But it would be foolish to believe that could truly work. Your mind raced again.
The best lies are the ones with truth, Eris always said, you can get away with anything if you approach it right, if you take control of the conversation.
You let out a breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t find out.”
Truth.
He maintained his heavy gaze. "Is it one of my soldiers?"
You grimaced at his words, letting your face fall into one of slight disgust. "You'd really want to know if I was sleeping with one of your men?"
Take control of the conversation.
The words seem to hit their target as Eris’s lips formed a deep frown. His nose scrunched as he processed the words. He gave you a dismissive hand wave. “Nevermind.”
You gave him a tight-lipped smile. “That’s what I thought.”
A moment of silence passed but Eris’s gaze didn’t leave your face. You forced yourself to look into the distance, to watch the hounds as they chased each other in the grass.
"You didn't answer me.”
You took a breath. "About what?"
"Do you care for him?"
The words ran through you in a wave, one entirely too heavy for your liking.
Months ago, the answer would have been obvious— so obvious that the question itself would’ve seemed like a sick joke. Months ago, it would've been instant. No. You did not care for Azriel. He could've died and you would've celebrated; would’ve laughed at the idea of karma finally finding its way to the family you disliked so heavily.
But something in you had changed recently, changed in a way that made you hesitate at your answer.
You and Azriel hadn't slept together in weeks. And even those times had been a physical release, something meaningless yet sickly sweet. Yet, the moments since had become even more intimate—the times you caught yourself joking with him, caught your own lingering gaze on his form.
You’d gone back for him— and you’d repeated that moment in your head multiple times since, thinking back to that tug you felt in your chest, the strange guilt you felt the minute you’d winnowed away. You’d gone back and fought alongside him, had managed to heal him in a way you'd never been able to do for Eris, never been able to do even for yourself.
You looked at your brother and let out a sharp breath of air.
"No. I don’t."
The words felt forced, strained, and you worried that Eris would see through it entirely— would force you to admit a truth you weren’t sure existed. But he only narrowed his eyes, tilted his head, and then nodded.
“Good,” he said, “That would only make matters worse.”
There was something in his tone that made you run cold and you turned your body to face him, watching as his eyes shifted impatiently, the action almost nervous.
“Eris,” you said cautiously, “What is it?”
A flicker of something ran through his face, something that looked awfully like guilt, like sadness.
“Y/n” he began, but you lifted a hand up, shaking your head at his attempts to soften the conversation, to gently lead into whatever topic had him so bothered.
”Don’t,” you said firmly. “Don’t do that. Don’t use that voice. I’m not a child to be soothed. Tell me.”
Eris sighed. “He’s entertaining the idea of marrying you off to garner more support.”
A name wasn’t needed as your stomach dropped and your hands fell slack at your sides. “No,” you said, shaking your head. “That’s not true.”
Eris’s shoulders slumped. “It’s why I’ve been so busy. I looked into it. It’s true.”
A strange buzzing sensation began to fill your ears. You shook your head as if to clear it, as if the words Eris would say next could change the ones he had already said.
“No,” you repeated firmer. “Brides are taken at their prime, when they become of age. I’ve been of age for centuries. I- No.”
Eris stepped closer. “He’s seeing it as a way to strengthen inner-court allies, to consolidate power in a more immediate way. Access to our bloodline is an incredible link to influence, any of his men will take the chance.”
Your chest constricted as the words sank in and you felt your hands begin to tremble, felt an unsteady flicker at your fingertips. You met Eris’s gaze, eyes wide, breathing heavy.
“He’s punishing me.”
Eris swallowed hard and his eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sorrow. He nodded, unable to find the right words.
”Just give me some time,” Eris finally said, pulling you in by your shoulder. He lowered his head to meet your gaze, his voice falling to a softer, lower tone. “I’ll figure something out, okay? I-I just need some time.”
It seemed as if he was trying to convince himself of his own words too. So you only nodded, looking into the distance once more, eyes tracing the circles the hounds ran around each other.
Even in the open air, in this freedom, they were still pets— still animals that were owned, bred throughout history for a singular purpose.
You’d never realized how much you had in common until now.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
He stepped out of the bath, feeling as the water trailed down his form and the tension in his muscles eased. The steam swirled around him, briefly shrouding him in a comforting fog, and his shadows followed his movements slowly— leisurely.
Azriel’s wing was healed now and he thought of you whenever he moved it. He remembered how he had slipped into unconsciousness at your touch, how your focused, almost tender face was the last thing he saw before succumbing to the darkness. He thought of you in the moonlight, thought of how your voice softened as you talked about Lucien. Most of all, he thought about the words he’s said himself, words intended to be an apology—- a compliment, even. And how you’d recoiled at them as if he had injured you gravely.
He dressed slowly, his mind being lured in every direction but ultimately falling back to you. Azriel glanced down at his hands, at the scars that marred his skin. Amongst his burns were scars from battles, from missions, and if he squinted hard enough, he could envision the blood that stained them still, even after the liquid had been washed off.
Every act he committed was etched into his skin, acts done out of loyalty, out of a need to protect those he loved; a need to be important, to be anything but weak.
Azriel had felt at sea recently, lost even in his own court. He felt like a failure as he watched Rhysand’s worry about Koschei grow throughout the days. He was a spymaster— a warrior. Yet nothing he did seemed to help. His family was restless, on edge, and he felt a bitter pang as his shadows updated him on their every move. Feyre and Rhys had learned to soothe Nyx at night and Cassian and Nesta had begun planning their mating ceremony—something large, grand, and worth her time. He didn’t even want to think of Elain, to think of her alongside the brother that even Azriel’s shadows had grown to like.
He was happy for them. At least, he told himself so. But he couldn’t shake his feeling of unease, as if he was on unsettled ground. Beneath it all was a sickening sense of jealousy. Everyone— even Amren— had found a purpose, had even found a love that softened them. Azriel hadn’t.
Maybe that was why he liked the way he felt when he met with you, liked how it had given him a sense of purpose— even if he disliked what that purpose was for. He felt a clarity now, a focus he hadn’t felt in a long time.
It seemed like a sick joke from the Mother, to give him a sense of purpose when he was alongside you, to find satisfaction in helping you support Eris, the very male Azriel despised with every fiber of his being. If he had grown to respect you in some form, did that mean he respected Eris, too?
The thought made him want to vomit.
It was becoming far too easy for you to cloud his thoughts, to overshadow any duties or obligations he had. Normally he would fight against it, burying himself in work, training, anything to keep his mind occupied. But today, he welcomed it, indulged in the sweet sin of your face in his mind. His shadows drifted around him, whispering in his ears the very things he knew himself. He was beginning to feel seen in a way he hadn’t felt before, by eyes that had seen the same life as him.
And it terrified him as much as it comforted him.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
You didn’t have time, as it turned out.
Beron had moved into preparations swiftly—faster than you or Eris anticipated. One night he found you, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction that had Laney preparing to bear her teeth at him in a snarl— you were grateful he didn’t notice, grateful that she listened to your commands.
”You finally have a purpose to fulfill,” he declared. “I never understood why the Mother cursed me with a daughter as my final kin, but now I understand.”
You’d felt your identity slipping away as soon as he growled those words. In the days since, he forced your mother to tightly pull back your hair each night, to help dress you as a prized calf and parade you at his events for Autumn’s most influential— most cunning—figures. They eyed you with calculating, hungry interest, deciding whether you were suitable for themselves or their sons.
You sat at a table now, the only female among a sea of men. Your mother was never allowed at events like this, never really seen unless she was forced to cling to your fathers arm like a piece of fine jewelry. The plate of food in front of you was half the size of the portions heaped on the plates of the males surrounding you. If you had the energy, you would’ve found it funny. But you didn’t.
You felt like a prey in a pack of savage beasts, their eyes raking over you with a hunger that made you feel sick; made you feel dirty, as if you were covered in a grime you could never fully wash off.
Beron leaned over and placed his hand over yours. Instantly, you clenched and straightened, a wave of revulsion washing over you in a tide. His grip tightened and he leaned in further, lips curling into a sickening, warning smile.
”Smile,” he commanded tightly. “No one wants a scowling bride.”
As a warning, a flame flickered on his palm and a searing pain spread across your exposed skin. You felt the burn, sharp and cruel, but you didn’t dare flinch. You met his eyes and held them— held that cold, hardened gaze, the same one you saw when you’d look in the mirror, in your eyes that looked exactly like his.
This was your defiance of tonight. If anything, you could do this. You could match him.
But your father’s smile widened, seemingly satisfied enough with your compliance, and he leaned back, releasing your hand. The burn throbbed on your skin but you remained still.
You could feel another gaze on you, distinct from the predatory stares of the other males. This gaze was warm, comforting, like the gentle heat of a fire on a cold night or the familiar embrace of a childhood blanket.
You didn’t dare look over. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing the concern in Eris’s eyes from across the table. It would break you in some way you couldn’t control. With the familiar sense of heat underneath your skin, you sat up straighter, tightened your strained grip around the fork you held, and imagined how it would look in the eyes of every male around you— all but your brother.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
Azriel wasn’t sure why he hurried as much as he did— why his wings seemed to go faster, why his winnowing was almost instant. But here he was, standing in front of the cabin he’d become so familiar with, listening as his shadows told him that you seemed troubled.
It was the job of a lone shadow of his to trail you, to keep an eye on this cabin— on this place, and to alert Azriel if anything was of importance. It was a precautionary measure at the beginning of your little arrangement, a way to keep track of everything going on, to always have something watching you— the most unpredictable factor in his life, the thing he never saw coming. But he wasn’t sure why he’d continued to send that shadow out even after you both had come to a sort of agreement, a sort of truce born of a miniscule understanding.
Perhaps it was for reasons like this, for your strange appearances in the Spring Court at nearly four in the morning.
He knew in his gut that something was wrong even before his shadows told him.
You looked so put together— that was the first thing Azriel noticed. The dress you wore was entirely too formal, lacking in the usual flare that accompanied your presence; and your hair was tied back tightly, so neatly and simple it seemed constraining. The way you sat on the grass now, before him, almost resembled the stance of a small child looking at the sky in a sorrowful form of prayer, waiting for a star to shoot by for a wish of yours to be placed upon it.
“Why do you always do that?”
Your voice rang out clear and goosebumps crawled on Azriel’s skin at the sound, a chill making its way through his body. You hadn’t moved, hadn’t bothered looking away from your stare at the sky. Part of him was tempted to remain still, to back further into the darkness that surrounded him.
“Stare at me afar like a creep?” You added.
Finally, you turned to look at where he stood and Azriel found himself stepping forward, allowing his shadows to disappear around his body. He didn’t offer you an answer, opting to flex his hands— his clammy, tense hands— as he continued to walk forward. You followed his every movement.
“What are you doing here?”
Azriel’s voice was neutral, monotone.
You raised your eyebrows. “I could ask you the same thing.”
He frowned at the response. He’d expected something snippier, something more you— he’d grown accustomed to it, to the snark that he’d return easily. He took a moment to think, to rummage through his thoughts like an overly-cluttered junk drawer.
“Don’t you think this is a bit pathetic,” Azriel said, “Sulking on the dirty grass in the middle of the night?”
His voice was stern. But as much as he’d attempted to ensure it was devoid of emotion, there was a trace of something in his words, a hint of concern. A part of him, one larger than he’d care to admit, was pushing him to be softer, to tell you he was worried, to offer help pick you up. But he refrained. You would push him away the minute you sensed a semblance of pity. This he already knew.
You gave a humorless laugh and there was a strained sense of sorrow that Azriel recognized instantly. You stood up. “I guess so. You’d know a thing or two about what being pathetic looks like.”
He gritted his teeth and took a steadying breath. His shadows curled around his wrists and he fought with them as they strained to extend further, to slither down his body and towards you.
There was a tense silence before he spoke again. "I heard Beron is arranging your marriage."
Your head snapped to the side and your eyes met his— the fire in them still visible in the moonlight, but entirely too dull compared to what they’d looked like weeks ago. You took in his form, the straightness of his posture and the tuck of his wings. Even at this hour he was clad in his fighting leathers, poised and deadly like the image of ruin.
“How do you know that?”
Azriel gave a small, almost nonchalant shrug. “I have spies in every court.”
“Doesn't it defeat the purpose if you tell me?”
“Wouldn't you find them, anyways?
Despite yourself, the corner of your lips twitched upwards. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You stared at each other for a moment and Azriel’s eyes seemed to soften with an internal conflict. He cocked his head at you and you forced yourself to look away, finding new interest on the ground below you.
“Is that why you’re here?”
When you met his eyes once more, he took a sharp intake of breath.
“I have nowhere else to go.”
Azriel’s mind reeled again. While he felt stuck in place, forged to the very ground he stood on, his brain threw him into every memory he held of you— back to the first times he’d seen you standing alongside Eris.
He saw the memories in an entirely different light. Before, Eris had domineered over you, had poised his body in front of you and your mother in a way to assert his dominance as the heir to the throne, to remind those around him that you were both females at the end of the day. But now, Az saw it as what it truly was: protection. A bodily shield similar to that he’d done himself to Morrigan, to Amren, to his High Lady.
You never came to official meetings, were never seen at political gatherings. There were multiple reasons for this, Azriel had gathered. First and foremost, you were a female. And to Beron, females had no place in politics—- no place in his court beyond eye candy and child bearing. His wife was always there, yes, but she never spoke. Never did so much as lift her hand. Azriel could’ve believed that she was nothing more than a doll, not truly living; not truly alive. He didn’t even know her name beyond her title, Lady of Autumn, a female that belonged to her court; nameless beyond the one thing that established her— her husband.
And beyond being a female, you were their youngest, their only daughter. You were to be protected, to be molded into the perfect wife, ready to be sold off to the highest— and most powerful— male. He’d never bothered to think about that last fact. He never cared. But as you stood in front of him, he indeed felt bothered, felt unsettled at the idea.
“I feel bad for the male who will be tied to you for the rest of his life.”
“Because I’m that awful?” You scanned his face, your voice veering between wounded and sardonic. “Here I thought you’d be jealous because he’d get to fuck me for the rest of mine.”
Something flashed in Azriel’s eyes and the shadows on his face grew harsher as he clenched his jaw. But then, for a moment, his eyes seemed to soften, turning from a molten brown to a soft honey. “That’s not what I meant.”
"Then what did you mean?"
He took a deep breath and you could’ve sworn you saw a twitch in his hand, saw it move out slightly before he pulled it back in, as if he wanted to reach out, to place a hand on yours.
"Ownership doesn't suit you. Any male who thinks he has a claim on you is in for a rude awakening.”
You looked away. "It's not like I have a choice."
"You always have a choice.”
You met his gaze again, a dry laugh bubbling up. Azriel’s face was serious, sincere, and it made your blood boil with a sense of resentment that felt comical. You could taste it: the bitter feeling in your throat and the burning in your stomach, like something making its way from your esophagus to your mouth.
"Of course you would say that."
Azriel's brow furrowed slightly and his body tensed in response. "What does that mean?”
You shook your head, running your tongue along your teeth before you turned to face him fully, jaw tight, teeth clenched. Azriel wore a sense of self-loathing like second skin. You could smell it on him, could see it in the way he walked, in the way he interacted with those around him. You noticed it from the first time you’d met, watched as he longingly looked at Morrigan, as that self-loathing filled his eyes and dripped into his features. You knew the feeling well, knew how to recognize it.
And you wanted to laugh at the fact. The male before you hated himself so much because he had room to do so. He was powerful enough to let it fester, was comfortable enough to set aside time for his self-pity. The Night Court, despite how much you hated it, had freedoms that yours would never give you. Rhysand granted his family privileges that they never acknowledged. You felt the urge to tell Azriel exactly that, to shove a finger into his chest and chastise him for such foolish, childish sentiments.
But instead, you found yourself asking him a question that took both of you by surprise.
“Why do you despise me?”
Azriel blinked and his shadows stilled, their movements halting around his body. “What?”
“Tell me,” you said, “Tell me why you hate me.”
Azriel’s eyes hardened. “Eris–”
You cut him off. “I asked why you hated me. Not my brother.”
His mouth tightened and he remained silent, his wings twitching slightly as if they bore the weight of his thoughts. The shadows that usually danced around him like a protective barrier were now motionless, and you felt a twisting sensation in your gut, a cold, coiling dread.
"You know,” you said, your voice low, a hint of anger lacing your words. "It's not only hate that I have felt for you."
He stiffened. "Then what else?"
"Jealousy," you admitted, the word leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “Bitter, suffocating jealousy. I'm envious of you, Shadowsinger. You have this court that you love, this family that can get away with anything and you don't even acknowledge it.”
You’d always been a jealous person. By the gods, you’d tried your best to get over it. But it was rooted in something deeper than superficial envy— especially when it came to Azriel.
There was something about the moonlight, about these darkened skies, that made it easier to be honest, something that almost compelled a sense of vulnerability. And as you stared at him, felt his gaze burn into yours, you felt a cold shiver of realization roll throughout your skin.
“I’ve come to realize that you and I are entirely too similar for my liking. And I am so unbelievably envious that I’m punished for everything you are praised for.”
Azriel stilled, his movements slowing as though your words had struck him with the force of a physical blow. His chest tightened and an urgency wrapped itself around his ribs like a vise, constricting with each breath.
Azriel had always hated you. It was a visceral, almost instinctive reaction that he never fully understood until now. You were a mirror of him—a reflection of the darkness he harbored within himself, the parts of him that he loathed. Your cunning, your ruthlessness, this sense of loyalty that left you desperate, that led you to tearing apart pieces of yourself. All qualities he recognized, all qualities he despised in himself.
It was easier to hate you than to face the self-loathing that gnawed at him. To acknowledge that you were a product of your environment, just as he was. But as much as he tried to detest you, as much as he tried to push you away, his hatred for you had spilled into desire, something sickly sweet and thick. It ran down his body and even after he’d scrubbed himself clean, even after he’d rid himself of his urges as he took you from behind—- it was still there, coating his skin. He was unable to rid himself of the burning that had settled in his chest, the longing he refused to admit; because that hatred, that desire, had grown into something else, something just as hot, just as all consuming.
It had turned into admiration.
His expression softened, a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—crossing his face. "You’re right."
A silence settled between you, thick and heavy. Azriel's gaze wavered, his eyes searching yours as if he were sifting through the layers you held. You felt a flutter in your chest, a vulnerable ache that made you want to recoil and step closer all at once.
You stared at him, at the way his wings perched over him like a dark, protective shroud, at how his shadows seemed to radiate off him in waves. The heat beneath your skin intensified, a simmering fire that burned hotter the longer you looked at him. Your eyes drifted to his wing, to the area that had been torn open the last time you saw him. The scar had healed, but the memory of it was still fresh in your mind. You looked back at his face, at the way he hadn’t dared to look away.
Azriel's face was hauntingly and devastatingly beautiful, a creature of the night, perfectly in his element under the moonlit sky. Your chest felt tight, as if your ribs were being pulled apart, making it hard to breathe. You couldn’t save Eris. You couldn’t outrun the fate your father had set for you.
You wanted it all to go away, to forget who you were, where you were.
Without another thought, you threw yourself at Azriel, your lips crashing against his in an angry, heady kiss. The intensity of it was almost violent, something born out of desperation, out of a need to feel something other than the suffocating anger that had taken residence in your heart.
He pulled away for a moment, his brows furrowing as he took in your face. His eyes fell to your lips. You waited for it— for the abandonment of reluctance that had become a routine, for him to stare at you, for that stare to turn hungry, predatory, and for him to surge forward and claim your lips with his. But Azriel didn’t move towards you. He shook his head and took a step back.
“What is it?” you breathed, your voice trembling, edged with frustration. “Have you suddenly gained morals? Do you not want this?”
He hesitated. “No. Not like this,” Azriel said and you bristled at the words. They weren’t entirely dismissive, but they felt charged with something that left your mouth dry, left it difficult for you to breathe. “I don’t want your anger.”
“What does that mean?”
His eyes flickered, as if trying to blink away the thoughts racing through his mind.
“I don’t know.”
The uncertainty in his voice made your chest feel tighter. An almost embarrassing sensation of exposure washed over you, as if your entire life had led to being denied the one sick pleasure you’d found.
“Why did you come here?”
“I don’t know,” he repeated, this time firmer, more desperate. His shadows churned around him, dark tendrils of darkness twisting and writhing like a storm gathering strength, charged with an unsettling energy.
It set you on edge. Your fingers twitched, and you clenched your hands into fists to stop their trembling.
“Well, what do you know?”
Azriel looked at you, a crease in his brows, his expression a mix of pain and relief as he finally responded, his eyes burning. “That you have plagued my mind for weeks.”
"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice teetering between curiosity and a simmering anger. It was a blend of emotions you couldn't quite unravel—whether you sought answers or were simply lashing out. “What do you want?”
He shook his head, attempting to take another step back, growing more furious with himself at the motion. You moved closer, bringing your hand to his arm and he felt the burn of your touch through his leathers. You were a nightmare and he felt desperate to keep you as you pleaded with him, voice rising, fiery in spirit and heart.
“Tell me what you want, Shadowsinger.”
You weren't sure what came over you, why you suddenly felt desperate for him to tell you what you felt was true, for him to admit it. It felt like you were on the edge of a great precipice, your heart tugging and tightening in your chest all at once, needing him to look at you, growing anxious, angry, even. You wanted his truth, wanted his confession and his sin all in one.
And then you continued, voice suddenly tender, seeking. “Tell me what you want and I can give it to you.”
He willed himself to look at you and his chest rose with his uneven breaths.
“You,” he managed to breathe, shivering with craving.
Once the admission fell from his mouth, Azriel was done for. “I want you.”
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
As an extra treat, the wonderfully talented @micahssketchbook gifted us with an illustrated version of this confession 🥹
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
authors note:
yknow.... if theres one thing ill give these angst fuckers credit for is that they are so honest with each other, like tell me why reader is more honest with az than rhys was with his own wife 😭
anyways everyone thank @writingcroissant as usual for inspiring me (forcing me) to finish this part when i was tempted to delete everything
permanent tag list 🫶🏻:
@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon
@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters
@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot
@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii
#azriel x reader#azriel#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel x reader angst#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#acotar fanfic#azriel angst#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanfiction#acotar#acotar x reader#malice series#EIM#an education in malice
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Another Pawn in Your Game. (c.s)
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Capitol!Reader
Summary: you felt betrayed by coriolanus and lucy gray's act in the capitol zoo. or coriolanus coaxes you into thinking what he did was okay.
Warnings: minor felix ravinstill x reader (one-sided). angst. manipulative snow who knows all the right words to say. they stay together in the end. UNEDITED
a/n: if you have seen my post about coriolanus before reading this, my stand does not change. and i am not trying to justify anything. that being said i do find him an interesting character to write for with his complexity!
masterlist
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You couldn’t believe your eyes from the act that Coriolanus and Lucy Gray were pulling in front of Lucky Flickerman. Introducing her. Holding hands with a district. You felt eyes of pity land on you from around the table as you were with Arachne, Felix, and Clemensia.
“Did you know that he was going to do that?” Arachne hounded on you.
Clemensia added, “Is that not cheating?”
“I wish I knew,” you scoffed, continuing to look at the screen of Coriolanus staring at Lucy Gray with narrowed eyes. “He didn’t tell me anything.”
“Maybe it’s time you realize you can do better than Snow,” Felix grinned while you all watched as the peacekeepers dragged away Coriolanus. “Always more options around…”
“Felix, I would love for you to say that to his face,” Clemensia snickered at his poor attempt at flirting.
“Oh, please. No one would ever dare,” Arachne rolled her eyes at the two and began to get up as the bell rang.
You walked alongside the group with Felix on your side. You felt him place a hand on your back and leaned in to whisper in your ear, “Let me know when you get tired of him, will you?”
“We’ll see about that.”
“Y/n!” Sejanus called your name from behind the group, walking quickly to catch your arm before you walked through the doors while everyone headed in. “What was that with Felix?”
He held a concerned expression, and the grip on your upper arm began to tingle. “Sejanus,” you tried to move your arm and he finally took notice, dropping his hand and muttering apologies.
“I didn’t mean to grab you that hard. I’m sorry.”
Taking a deep breath in you explained to him, “Coryo wants to make a fool out of me. You saw what he did in the cage. Felix is simply taking his chance.”
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After Doctor Gaul had left the room, you neglected Coriolanus’ attempts to have a word with you, and you continued to keep a conversation with Sejanus. You felt the irritation that radiated off his body when he noticed that you were purposely ignoring him.
“He looks like he is going to murder me if I keep talking to you, Y/n,” Sejanus quietly pointed out as he looked back and forth from you to Coriolanus.
“He’s lucky if I don’t murder him for what he pulled,” the blank expression that was written across your face mildly scared Sejanus not knowing how you truly felt.
“At least acknowledge him or something, Y/n,” he pushed.
“And why should I?”
“Because, because this is unlike you and Coryo,” he tried to explain but failed to give any valid reasoning to you.
You turned to your other side and looked at him with darting eyes, “Hello, Coriolanus,” you articulated the entirety of his name. It felt foreign on your tongue.
He met you with perplexion at your sudden coldness, “Y/n/n. Dearest. What is the matter with you?” He knew that he had said or done something wrong as you gathered your things and went to Dean Highbottom to be excused.
“How was your little songbird, Coriolanus?” Arachne teased and was aware you could still hear them before you walked out of the room. Livia continued, “Fragile, little thing she is. I do hope her death is rather quick.”
“She’s okay.”
“Did everyone hear that?” Arachne looked around the room to those who were interested in where she was taking this. “Coryo made sure his songbird is okay.”
Coriolanus had no time for games as his mind wandered back to you, “Arachne. What is the point of all of this?” he snapped at her.
A smirk planted visibly across her face, “Is your Dearest okay, though?” she mocked him.
The realization was evident as it spread to his face. He looked over to Sejanus who avoided his stare by pretending he was focused on his paper instead.
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“Felix, you know he has no shame in going after you once he sees this,” you mentioned knowing the rather possessive tendencies that Coriolanus had to the boy who followed you out.
Felix hid his nervousness with a chuckle, “What could he do? I’m the president’s son.”
“I’m just warning you,” you went through your bag to look for the rose Coriolanus had given to you this morning.
“Y/n. You don’t deserve what he did to you,” he tried to reach out for your hand but you had pulled away before he had gotten the chance to.
Having found the rose, you glanced around for a trash bin to toss it in, “Oh, believe me. I know.”
“Isn’t that one of the roses that Lucy Gray had in her hair earlier when we saw her on the screen?” Felix observed the rose in your hand and noticed it was the same pure white as the one that was in Lucy Gray’s hair. “Is that from him?” he made the connection with the frown you held.
“Yes.”
He bellowed another laugh as he realized the Coriolanus was found in even more mistakes. “That bastard.”
Coriolanus was searching for you throughout the academy grounds once the bell had rung. He found no luck in finding you until he passed a hallway he had never seen you go into before, and there you were standing by a pillar with Felix Ravinstill standing too closely for Coriolanus’ comfort. Though he could tell that you had not reciprocated Felix’s intentions, it didn’t help the rising jealousy that was consuming his mind.
For a moment, his vision was red as he saw Felix take his Grandma' am’s rose out of your hands. It had taken everything in him to not launch himself at Felix as he didn’t want to be convicted of murder before the Games even started. He was already in too far.
Your head turned as you heard a call of your name from Coriolanus, “Y/n.” Through the tone of his voice, you knew he was not asking for you but rather commanding.
Before you started to make your way to him, Felix caught your hand and pulled you back for a moment whispering in your ear while making direct eye contact with Coriolanus, “Make him pay for it, yeah? And don’t forget my offer will always stand for you.” Coriolanus stood there with a tense jaw and flared nostrils as he watched.
Felix smirked at him, seeing you walk towards his direction but going pass him, “Come along, Coriolanus.”
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The silence was starting to get to the both of you as neither of you chose to speak a word before arriving in front of your house. Your parents rarely being home helped your situation because you figured that an argument was going to begin right as the door was closed behind you.
That’s how it always was. The picture perfect couple in the public eye to keep appearances up than a cracked frame when it was just the two of you.
“What was that about, Y/n?” he fumed the second the door was shut. You ignored him as you went to put your bag away in your room. “You cannot keep avoiding me here. And don’t think I am going to let go of what you did today.”
“What I did?” you talked baffled.
“You are making a joke out of us-”
“Is it fun for you?” you interrupted him, finally meeting his burning stare.
“Is what fun?” he gritted his teeth at the lack of specificity in your question.
You began to laugh maniacally and spat out, “Making a fool out of me. You already made me a laughing stock for everyone to see.”
“Is this about-” he started but you didn’t give him a chance to finish.
“Of course, this is about her, Coriolanus!” you proclaimed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hold her hand? And for goodness sake, a district girl from 12 of all people! You are the one ruining us.”
“She is my tribute,” he defended.
“YOU GAVE HER A ROSE!” you yelled at him in frustration. “How do you not see a problem with that?”
“The rose is nothing compared to what you let Felix do today,” he said, enraged, taking steps closer to you, but your hand met his chest, keeping him at arm's length. “You are mine. Not his.”
“And what? She is also yours now too?” you closed your eyes as they welled with tears that you had tried to blink away.
He moved your hand and grasped it as he stood in front of you. He cupped your cheek with his other hand and softened his tone, “She doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“And how am I supposed to trust your word?” you threw at him and saw a look of hurt flash on his face but it had left just as quick. “Everyone told me it was a mistake to be with you.”
“Do you believe it was?” he blanked, tightening his hold on your hand.
“I do not know what to believe anymore.”
“It was an act. A farce. She needs to win,” he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “I need to win.”
Your body was tense with vexation and you spoke through clenched teeth, “Am I just another pawn in your game as well? The easiest one you can sacrifice?” It felt like your heart was ready to burst from out of your ribcage waiting for his answer.
He brushed a piece of fallen hair away from your face and uttered, “No, you are My Queen.”
#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#tbosas#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow#fanfic#angst#sejanus plinth#lucy gray baird#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow fic#president snow#young coriolanus snow#thg#the hunger games#coriolanus snow angst#coriolanus snow fluff
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That trailcutter and hound one is going to be the funniest one, I just know it! I love both of those guys! I just gotta say that your writing is something I look forward to every day. It's like a reward for going to my boring job.
Hound taking full advantage of the fact that he can coerce his buddy into pretty much anything with enough high grade
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Heavy Boots
Hound x Reader
• There’ll be guilt later and he knows it, but as he cages you in his servos, it’s hard to focus on anything beyond the hope that this isn’t a mistake. Because he’s been watching Bluestreak with his little human. Tries so hard not to stare at the way the young sniper’s human is constantly touching his servos, smiling up at him and relaxed. How Wheeljack’s human curls up against the engineer’s arm, draping themself against him in the break room. Convincing Trailbreaker that they’re saving humans, when really, he just wants that sort of companionship. Wants a soft, little mate that’s happy to see him. Waiting for him to return.
• Screaming as you’re caught and picked up, you can hear your friend also screaming, the sound cutting off suddenly to your horror. And you struggle as the giant monster that has you grins down at you. “Alright then,” he says. Pulling you close to his chassis before he comes apart and reforms around you, feeling like your heart is going to beat right through your ribs from the fear. And you find yourself inside a green Jeep. These monsters hiding in plain sight. Yanking on the door handle in a panic, you can’t get the door open. “Easy there, sweet spark,” rumbles a deep, soothing voice from all around you and you shudder. “Don’t worry. You’re safe.”
• “Let me go,” you gasp, voice small and shaky and his spark constricts. Had expected this, but your fear still bothers him. How had Blue and Jack won over their little humans? Pulling out alongside Trailbreaker, they head back to the Ark. “What do you want with us? Are-are you going to eat us?” What? Primus, you think he’s a monster, don’t you? It’s not funny at all, but it still startles a laugh from him.
• “I’m saving you, sweet spark.” That deep voice is coaxing and you shiver unable to tell where it’s coming from or where to focus your attention. Saving you from what? Watching the steering wheel turn as the alien monster pretending to be a Jeep drives itself, you cringe. “Our enemies are kidnapping you lot. Doing awful things to you. You’re safe with us.” He kidnapped you to keep you from being… kidnapped. And what awful things? What is he going to do to you?
• You’ll come around sooner or later. Come to trust him. Running through the things he’ll need for you as he cuts his wheels to give Trailbreaker more space when he lists into his lane. He’s been watching the other bots with humans, learning from them how they handle their humans. What you need and he’s certain he’ll be able to take good care of you. He’s already been collecting things for the human he’d been wanting, sneaking off on patrol to steal things you’ll need or like. You’ll be happy with him once he wins you over.
Next
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Bad Journalism
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You’re an annoying journalist trying to get a story out of Joost, but he knows that’s not what you really want // joost x fem!reader
nsfw: smut, one shot
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The news that Joost was disqualified had sent shock waves through the entirety of the Eurovision. You heard the news first through whispers, not believing it at first until it was in every headline, plastered over every local news channel, and blowing up all your group chat messages.
You felt bad for him more than anything. Your heart sunk for him, especially when some of your colleagues had not one bit of empathy for him, and were itching to corner him for a story. You’d passed him a few times in the hallway, smiling at him or waving, he was like a beam of sunshine in every room and captivated the audience with infectious excitement and charisma. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him incredibly attractive. You found yourself scrolling through his socials late at night and never missed any of his rehearsals. It was clear he was the favorite, and it was all ruined for him now.
It was the heat of the moment, tensions were at an all-time high. Everyone at Eurovision, both behind closed doors and in hushed voices out in the lounge areas, and everyone on social media who followed the competition talked about Joost. It was all in whispers, yet completely in your face at the same time. No one could avoid it, it was more than an elephant in the room at this point.
As a journalist, it was like a mosquito constantly looming at your shoulder, irritating you that you could do nothing about it in good conscience. Your boss was hounding you and your colleagues for someone to get a word out of him, incentivizing you all to no end with bonuses, paid vacation time, or even a promotion. It didn’t help that journalists from other papers and countries all shared the same ambition, and some were far more aggressive and weren’t afraid to make it known. You wondered if those shared smiles meant anything at all, and if there was a chance he’d be more receptive to give you a statement rather than the other journalists who didn’t have the best intentions.
You tried to formulate a plan to gently approach him and try to get even a sentence out of him. Your conscience wrestled with each other. Your boss zeroed in on all of you specifically soon. He complained that you and a few other colleagues in particular weren’t performing up to par, and he was threatening termination.
“A lot of you are proving yourselves to be dead weight, you especially. You can show you deserve to be on this team by getting a story.”
You fell into a panicked state of anxiety for the next few days. You could barely sleep or eat knowing that your livelihood was now on the line. You’d been so excited that you secured a job at a top company, and now it was all in jeopardy over this nightmare of a situation. The journalists were now in their competition, and that alongside your boss’s threats gave you a new sense of determination.
You waited for the evening when you learned that Joost would be down for a mandatory meeting with members of the EBU. You gave false tips to other journalists who heard about the meeting as well, who believed you hesitantly, but you’d made yourself seem non-threatening and docile since the very beginning. In a way, it still held. It took everything inside of you to keep the shakiness of your voice hidden, and you concealed your nervous body language as harmless fidgeting.
You noticed him come out, and it was as if it was a different person. The room filled with anxiety and anger, from the both of you. His face was concerning stern, he dressed in basic, dark colors instead of his usual fun, unique outfits that always drew attention. He was alone, and like the fox you were, you cornered him.
“Hi, Joost.” You greeted him, immediately approaching him. “Did you just leave a meeting with the EBU?”
You glanced over at you, his eyebrows knitting together as if there was some sort of betrayal. He vaguely recognized you from the fleeting glances in the hallway, a bit disappointed knowing that you were just like all the others.
“I’m in a bit of a rush.” He mumbled, hoping that it would be enough to shut you down. “I’m sorry.”
You were so overcome with adrenaline you didn’t hear him, doubling down you continued to pester him. “Can you say anything about your disqualification?” You asked, seeing a blush immediately appear on the apples of his cheeks. “Is it true you assaulted someone?”
It was like a switch was flipped. You felt yourself grow cold immediately at the way he looked at you with deep offense. You’d jumped your questions prematurely, not giving him time to warm up to you, or even intelligently posing them. You’d made a complete mess of things and your failure plunged you into mania. There was no going back now, you’d either get a story out of him or make one.
Joost ignored you, he had to unless he wanted to make matters worse for himself. If you were a man, and not a woman looming at his side, staring up at him with big doe eyes and a blush that rivaled his own he would’ve pushed you away. He desperately wanted to take your stupid phone and throw it across the room before telling you to fuck off, but he tried to keep himself level-headed. He repeated like a mantra that all he needed to do was get into the elevator and go to his room, then it would be over. If you followed him then he’d have good reason to call security to haul you away.
He didn’t anticipate that you would use the fact he couldn’t hurt you to your advantage. You weren’t sure what came over you either, shocking yourself as much as you shocked Joost you yanked off his headphones from his neck and ran towards the elevator.
He chased after you without thinking, rushing past the closing silver doors as you desperately pushed the button to try to shut him out but your efforts were in vain. Your eyes shot open and you felt yourself move to the corner of the elevator, clutching the heavy, expensive headphones to your chest. Your breathing was erratic, you rendered yourself speechless as the man stood mere inches away from you.
“What the fuck is your problem?” He questioned in a low tone that bubbled with anger. “Give it back.”
“Answer my questions.” The calmness of your voice shocked you, and you looked up at him like it was an implicit dare. You knew as well as he did that he had no intention to hurt you.
“Don’t do this.” He pleaded, his head falling to the side. Yet still, his tone was angry and his body language rigid. He held out his hand, “Just give it back, and we have no problems. Ok?”
“No.” You stood your ground, hearing the elevator ding open to his vacant floor.
“No?” He laughed in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
You didn’t say anything, feeling yourself on the verge of tears from the intensity of the situation you left the elevator and walked down the hall aimlessly as he called after you in a hushed tone. You knew it wasn’t out of gentleness, but because he didn’t want to cause a scene like you had. You felt like you completely lost sight of yourself, you’d played dirty and this was exactly the kind of journalism you abhorred.
“Come here.” Joost began to approach you as if you were a wounded animal, “Just give it back, and I’ll answer three of your questions.”
“Really?” You asked, surprised by the easy defeat. He nodded, his face so genuine that you completely believed him.
You handed the headphones back and he practically ripped them from you, shaking his head in disbelief.
“Now go away before I call the police on you.” He spat. “Verdomde eikel.” He mumbled under his breath as he turned to walk back to his room.
You were overcome by the same adrenaline that you felt when he walked out of the conference room. You followed him to his room, no matter how many times he told you to fuck off and slammed the door in your face you weren’t going away until he gave you what you wanted.
You knocked on the door until your knuckles were raw and aching. Almost an hour went by, some people peering out of their rooms but ultimately paying you no mind. Joost finally opened the door, just enough to peer out with one of the locks to keep you two separated in case you tried another one of your stupid tricks.
“I don’t want to call the police on you.” He seemed to have calmed down, the cigarettes and alcohol in his breath further indicating it. “Go away, you’re too pretty to be acting like this.”
You huffed in frustration, “I’m trying to help you.” you tried to make something up as you went, “The other journalists tried to wait for you, I told them a lie to get them to go away. If you give me a story you won’t have to worry about them as much.”
“Ah, well.” He shrugged, “I’ll take my chances. Goodnight now.”
You put your arm in the door, a last effort to prevent him from shutting you out again. “Please, Joost.” You said shamelessly, now feeling like you’d just had a dopamine crash and all that was left was shame.
He looked at you for a moment, head coming to the side his head eyes narrowed almost inquisitively before he busted out in laughter. “Oh fuck, I hope you’re not who I think you are.” He said amid his mockery, burning tears immediately forming in your eyes, “What’s your name?”
You mumbled your name pathetically, your head somewhat bowed to avoid eye contact before he howled in laughter, “No fucking way.” He repeated over and over, the mockery hitting you like nails and making you bleed with miserable shame all over him. “You’re the journalist, my friend told me about you.”
You realized why his reaction was so over the top, and if anything it was warranted.
You recall when it was only the second day of the competition, everything was still in the very early and most exciting stages. You shared the elevator with a man from the Netherlands, tall, curly hair and dark skin. He complimented your shoes, you complimented his back and you two made small talk. He said that he was just an enthusiastic fan, something that you now knew was a white lie, and asked you about your job and what you thought of the performers.
“I like your guy from the Netherlands.” You said, smiling at him. “I’d fuck him.”
His eyes widened, and he looked at you in disbelief for a second before smiling back. “Yeah.” He finally said. “Me too.”
You didn’t know how you could be so clueless, and how you didn’t connect the dots that it was him in that costume performing alongside Joost all this time. He had captivated you so much, that you hardly paid any mind to the other performers, as talented as they were, much less his two friends at the side of the stage.
“You just wanna fuck me, huh?” He questioned in a sarcastic, degrading tone. “Are you even a journalist?”
You stayed silent, knowing that whatever you said would just make everything a million times worse, or even make you completely break down. It was again, like everything you were doing at this point an empty effort. The tears fell on your face like pieces of hot coal, burning your skin in sorrow and embarrassment. Your chest constricted in quiet sobs, you didn’t understand why your feet felt sewn to the carpeted floors and your arms bound to the doorknob of his room.
Joost expected this, he could tell from the way your once vibrantly pretty face lost all its color and your eyes became low and glossy that you had lost your strength. He knew someone like you was weak, hardly cut out of this type of journalism. He felt bad almost, knowing you would do much better tucked away in an office, away from people like himself whose personalities completely overpowered yours. He was a performer, after all, so he couldn’t blame you. Joost knew he was soft underneath this hard exterior, and no matter how badly you offended him he couldn’t bear to see you so upset at his expense.
“Alright.” He relented, sighing and unlocking the door completely as a form of surrender. “I will make a deal with you.”
Your face was buried in your hands, trying to stop and wipe away the tears to the best of your ability, but you still managed to nod.
“Either you come in here, I answer the three questions you asked about.” He offered, “Or, you come in here and I fuck you, and I don’t answer anything.”
If you couldn’t stand to look him in the eye before, you certainly couldn’t do it now. “The second one.” Your voice was strained, weighed down by your sobs it was nothing less than humiliating.
You heard Joost’s chest jerk in laughter, and he didn’t have to verbalize how pathetic he thought you were. You were fully worn down now, accepting defeat and realizing that you were so deeply depraved to choose physical pleasure over your literal job. He let you in, shutting the door behind you heard nothing but the turning of bolts and his soft footsteps. There was no turning back now, even if you came to your senses, there was no way your body would allow it.
“Wait for me in my bedroom.” He said all too casually, “I’m going to have a cigarette.”
The white hotel sheets were cold and uninviting under your warm skin. You began to undress down to your underwear, it was unassuming, the fact that it was black and matching was your only saving grace at sexiness. You found yourself waiting for several minutes, but as you clutched your knees to your chest and shivered from the notoriously harsh hotel air conditioning it felt like hours.
Joost seemed to be stringing you along, and enjoying every bit of it. He came back inside from the porch, walked into the bedroom, and paid you not even a glance before walking into the bathroom. You felt your humiliation plummet to new depths, especially when you heard him turn on the shower. The least he could do was say something, instead of walking past your almost naked body as if it was the least interesting thing in his room.
The excruciating wait ended once he left the bathroom, steaming and smelling of the freshest, most intoxicating body wash you’d ever smelled. It was perfectly masculine, eucalyptus and citruses you wanted to wrap yourself in it.
Joost approached you, watching as you crawled to the edge of the bed, looking up at him with your raw, puffy eyes it was almost erotic. You’d put yourself through so many emotions just to get a word out of him for your pathetic little job, and now you were on his bed, desperate for his touch.
He was always a man of his word, so naturally, he was a little ashamed that he tricked you earlier and wanted to make it up to you by not forcing you to beg for him. He unwrapped the towel, his cock springing loose in front of your face. Your face gave away your reaction, showing him that you weren’t used to his size and stroking his ego a little more.
“Go ahead.” He encouraged, “I hope you’re better at this than you are at interviewing.”
You took him into your mouth eagerly. It was almost like a wish being fulfilled, or being in a dream your depraved mind had conjured up. He felt incredible in your mouth, the way your lips stretched over him and how the tip nudged at the back of your throat did nothing but excite you. You hummed and moaned against him in contentment, the vibrations on his cock driving him wild. Your mouth was perfect, and you had something to prove. This was exactly what you wanted, you weren’t sure who the winner here was.
Joost couldn’t let you have the upper hand, not yet at least. He grabbed your head and held it into place before he began to fuck your mouth. He wasn’t relentless, even if he wished he could be as the reminder of how you pestered him sat at the back of his mind. His thrusts were deep but mostly gentle. You gagged against him but breathed carefully through your nose and braced yourself with the rhythm he’d set. Saliva dribbled down your chin, your mouth so wet and warm he couldn’t imagine how it would feel like to fuck you.
The desire was too overwhelming, he was impatient and desperate now, withdrawing his cock from your mouth. Your eyes were watery again, this time for good reason. You coughed a bit, regaining a bit of composure before Joost grabbed a handful of your hair and brought you into a kiss.
It was the sloppiest, least romantic kiss you ever had. He shoved his tongue into your mouth and held you in place like you were an animal threatening to escape. Your body was aching almost unbearably now, you straddled him and pressed your pussy against his bare thigh and began grinding down on him with such desperation it made him chuckle into the kiss.
“Slut.” He muttered against your neck, you shuttered against him before you felt his teeth sink into your skin, just enough to make you gasp. “You like that?”
“Mhm.” You groaned, your hips still moving against him hardly getting what you needed. “Please fuck me, Joost.”
His hand returned to your hair, this time pulling it so that you’d face him. He smiled almost drunkenly, his eyes low and dazed, “Can I eat your pussy first?” He asked the smug look on his face anticipating your reaction.
He laid you down on your back. You were a bit glad he wanted to pay attention to you. You fully expected him to fuck you from behind and kick you out, it would’ve been understandable, especially from the way you were acting and the fact he probably had dozens of girls who would kill to be in your place.
You felt the power balance restored as he buried his face between your thighs. He was as eager as you had been, licking and sucking on your pussy as if you had made the deal with him. His thick mustache burned the tender skin between your thighs in the best way possible, a reminder of what he’d done for you that would last at least till the next day. You felt nothing but the warm, blanketing pleasure. It felt like you’d just had a drink, your nerves had settled and all that was on your mind was finishing all over his pretty mouth.
Your hands tangled in his hair, your back arched as you felt yourself grow closer. A part of you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of your thighs closing against the side of his face and moans pouring from your lips, but it happened regardless. Your body almost convulsed from the intensity, the pleasure making your body surrender and melt into his hands so much that you began apologizing.
“I’m sorry.” You muttered continuously, your orgasm coming at its peak and then rolling over you, “I’m sorry Joost.”
He didn’t say anything at first as his mind was foggy, and he was lapping up your pussy, avoiding your clit now to give you a moment of calmness and for his pleasure. You tasted good, and it was intoxicating for him.
“It’s ok, baby.” His tone had now sweetened with you, even if you knew it was mostly from the intimacy of the moment. “I know what you need.”
Joost was overtaken by how turned on you made him feel. He loved how he was putting you in your place, how he had softened the stone-like scowl on your face, the sharpness in your voice and movements to something so perfect. He kissed you again, this time just a few pecks before you felt him press the head of his cock against your pussy.
He rubbed up and down, every time he passed over your sensitive clit you jerked up in overstimulation. He had condoms in the dresser, but you hadn’t brought up the matter so he decided to disregard it. If anything he’d give you some money for the morning-after pill, but that was the last thing he wanted to worry about.
Joost groaned loudly, almost overly dramatic as he began to push himself inside of you. You trembled beneath him, letting out sounds of discomfort from how big he was, the sensation new to your body that you instinctively began to push him away with one hand and attempt to cover yourself with the other.
“Move your hand, please.” He told you, “I promise I’ll stop if it hurts.”
It was a bit of a struggle, he had to stop a few times to allow you to adjust yourself to his size before he was able to bottom you out. It was all worth it, the pestering and the headache to have you beneath him. He fucked you slowly at first, pulling out until only the tip of him was inside of you before plunging himself back inside of you. Your pussy squelched and squeezed around him, your eyes screwed shut as you brought him into an embrace.
Joost kissed you on the cheek, resting his face against you he picked up his pace until it was something almost punishing. The thoughts of what you had done before were now at the forefront of his mind, that horrible feeling intertwined with his passion for you. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, his grunts against your soft gasps. He hit the sweetest spot inside of you with every movement, the feeling so overwhelming you felt your orgasm building again. You tried to tell him, feeling as if hearing it would feel like a reward to him, but your body and mind were no longer one. The only thing that left your mouth was his name and desperate sounds of pleasure.
Joost felt you come all over his cock, your pussy clenching around him as you cried out into his shoulder. He knew now he wasn’t going to last any longer, his movements becoming sloppy and the feeling of no friction, just how wet you were for him sending him over the edge. He would’ve loved to last longer, but he soon found himself pulling out and pumping himself over your body before coming undone all over your stomach.
He marked your body, warm cum falling against your stomach and breasts as you were cooling down from the nearly out-of-body experience. Joost looked down at you, breathing heavily it was almost like he was admiring his work. He’d left bruises against your neck, your hair was disheveled, your face wet with tears, and the prettiest sight of all was that he’d finished all over you.
He wiped down your body softly, kissing you when he was done before climbing under the sheets. He brought you into his arms this time, cuddling with you for a while before he spoke,
“Are you hungry?” He asked in a whisper, you giggled in response and nodded.
“Alright.” He nodded, “Maybe I’ll answer some of your questions after.”
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hope you guys enjoyed :) this is a cross post from my ao3 if you wanted to check it out there
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Please, please, I'll do whatever you want, just more yautja
Male Elder Yautja OC (Ge'jaar) x male reader
Ficlet
I still don’t really know a whole lot of the yautja lore, but I love them anyways. So, heres me cooking up an oc and hoping it’s somewhat canon because I love yautja and will take any excuse to write about them. Readers somewhat based off of an oc of mine. Reader is also around 6ft 5 inches. Ge'jaar is 9ft or so.
Bako really grew on me for some reason when I wrote this, so lemme know if you guys wanna read about him.
You were old. Very old. You hadn’t kept much track of just how old you were, it didn’t really matter, but you only appeared to be in the 50s or very good 60s. You knew you were a lot older than that, having spent at least 100 years away from earth, hunting. You had returned though, at some point, and settled down in a very defensible cabin far away from much of everything, where you could live in peace with your “dogs”.
Well, you called them dogs, mainly because they walked on all fours and had a tail they’d wag, and followed orders. An ex of yours had called them Kiande amedha, you just called them xenomorphs, or your beetle dogs. Years ago, back when you had successfully killed the bad bloods that kidnapped you and your military unit, you had found this little ugly hissing creature. There was a stereotype that humans would bond with most near anything, and they were right.
You brought the little bugger along on the ship you stole from the now dead bad bloods, which took a long time to figure out how to steer. You named your pet Lucky, and you would later learn she was female. Strangely enough, she seemed to follow you as if you were the queen and not her, so it was all fine. Even if she and her first offspring did kill your ex when he tried to hit and control you. One of her offspring lost a leg in that fight, so obviously his name would be tripod.
Luckily for you, sweet little Lucky didn’t breed like other of her kind. Over the years shed only had about 50 offspring, whom she seemed to raise in the same way you remembered earth dogs would do it, sometimes making you wonder if she was some kind of crossbreed. Having 50 kiande amedha though, made you very dangerous in the eyes of your ex’s species, especially when they learned you controlled them.
Joining the hunt hadn’t been something you had outright planned to do. Or getting juiced up with whatever weird drugs and inventions the clans you were friendly with cooked up. That was why you grew so much taller, and aged so slowly.
Ge'jaar wasn’t part of one of the clans you fought alongside. You two actually met, when a group of young bloods tried to hunt your beetle dogs. Apparently, they thought you would be an easy target, being an ooman and all. Of course, you made sure to show them you weren’t. they successfully killed one of your pets, a spunky one named Hoover because he ate everything. And like any hunter worth their salt, you needed revenge.
It led to some political struggles and conversations between clan elders, since you were pretty much a part of that one specific clan now after so many hunts together.
Ge'jaar wasn’t the leader of his clan, but still counted as an elder. He was handsome, in his own, scaley way. His skin was white and covered in the same dark splotching as all yautja seemed to carry. He wore a lot of the same clothing as most yautja did, and would later on wear a cape you made from the hide of a beast you had hunted.
In the end, Ge'jaar went as far as to apologize and repay you for the dead “hunting hound”. Bako, one of the males from your apparent clan, would later tell you it was because Ge'jaar wanted to fuck you. You were still very salty about Hoover though, so you acted quite nasty and confrontational with Ge'jaar and his clan for a good chunk of years.
The cape Ge'jaar would start to wear, hadn’t even been a gift in your mind. For some reason the elder yautja had followed along for one of your solo hunts, in Bakos words “going on a date” with you. And yes, Ge'jaar was very impressive to watch fight, he was very big and broad, alright? The creatures purple blood sprayed all over his white skin also didn’t help.
You couldn’t even remember what you had said to him, but it must have been some threat or curse as you threw the creatures skin at him, since you only wanted the meat and bones. It made no sense to you at the time why Ge'jaar started wearing the fur, and you hadn’t wanted to ask Bako since the guy had just started cackling at you when he saw it.
It was only years later when you had settled back down on earth, that it really seemed to register to you that Ge'jaar was trying to charm you, in his own yautja way. Still feeling so angry about Hoovers death, even if Ge'jaar himself didn’t do it, you took all the hunting and dead creatures by your ship and hut as a threat or challenge. All the jewelry and armor as harder to explain, and you still had the book about yautja mythology somewhere on your shelf.
At that point, you had just assumed Ge'jaar moved on, since you hadn’t seen him in so long. The only yautja you truly spoke much too nowadays was Bako and those from his clan. And of course, the ones that still owed you favors, just to remind them you were still alive to cash in on it.
You had just returned from one of your trips to the nearest large city, a trip that took you almost two weeks since everything was far away, when you saw him again. Or rather, one of your beetle dogs saw him, a young one named Blue, since his dome of a head reflected blue more than the rest.
Blue had been born, laid? On earth, and had seen very little true combat, so you assumed that was why he was the friendliest of them all. Where most of Lucky’s offspring that had known space and combat stuck to the shadows and settled in the cave system near your cabin, Blue was a real lapdog.
Friendly enough it seemed, to just accept an intruder in your home. Stepping out of your truck, Blue trotted out of your cabin door, which was wide open, looking as happy as a clam with dried meat in his maw. There was a feeling in the air that you weren’t alone, so grabbing at your beloved weapon of choice, you were about to fall back into old habits.
That was until Ge'jaar of all people, stepped out of your cabin, wearing one of your shirts. Well, trying to wear one of your shirts. It was one of the largest shirts you owned, old and worn with some odd shape on the front that might have been a logo once.
The elder yautja looked very comfortable, right at home honestly, his dreadlocks pulled into a bun on the back of his large head, and a damn sleeve of cookies in his massive hand. The confusion must have been so clear on your face, as the retired hunter chittered and laughed, moving closer to help you lug stuff back into your cabin and into your massive basement.
The confusion was strong enough that you just kinda went along with it, moving everything from your large truck and away from sight until you needed it. It was only after you both sat down on the couch that you took notice of the minor changes to your home, it looked very much like Ge'jaar had just moved himself in.
You could have smacked him right then and there, maybe cut all his dreadlocks off and made him swallow his mandibles, but somehow the massive scarred yautja made himself look so innocent and borderline lovable.
Blue, the little fucker, just got comfortable on a large fur Ge'jaar had laid out across the floor, tail whipping all over and knocking trinkets off your coffee table. The little traitor, you knew you spoiled him too much.
It took a lot of explanation from Ge'jaar, and you had a feeling if you hadn’t lived amongst his people for so long you might have lost it, but apparently Ge'jaar had made some plea to his clan leader, and yours since apparently you still counted as one of those, and you two were pretty much married without your approval.
Well, or so you would say, but all your guy’s “dates” and all the “gifts” you passed between you counted as courting. You settling down back on earth just appeared to be retirement in their eyes. It wasn’t like you still hated Ge'jaar, you never really had thinking back, it just… came as quite a surprise.
Ge'jaar still kept on courting you, even when you fed most of the things he caught to Lucky and her offspring. The elder yautja took your claim that Lucky was your child to heart, clicking and purring when she, and by extent her offspring, finally accepted his presence.
Time was a true blur out in the mountains, you only really noticed it by the seasons passing and you needing to go back into town two or three times a year to stock back up. But soon enough Ge'jaar was part of your life, and yes, you still snipped and bit at him sometimes, but this time it was meant as flirting.
Your mate, since that’s what you guys were now, was so patient and seemed to find your human nature endearing enough to pick up on some of it himself. It still felt very weird to be given flowers by a seasoned hunter like Ge'jaar, or to walk in on him watching Gilmore girls with Blue draped across his lap, but you got used to it.
It was probably best that you and Ge'jaar were the ones to get together, since he was older, had already had all the offspring he wanted. The yautja was also confident enough in himself that he didn’t get jealous the same way your ex had. Ge'jaar was hot and he knew this even in his fluffy robe and slippers, though you couldn’t help but miss him in his netting and weapons at times.
It turned out to be a lot more comfortable than you had thought to retire, with your mate who had to be hundreds of years older than you, and your many, many beetle dogs. There were times you debated on going out for a hunt again, as a date, for old times sake, but that was something you would need to discuss with Ge'jaar first.
#male reader#yautja#alien vs predator#predator#yautja oc#alien boyfriend#elder yautja#monster lover#yautja x male readr#yautja x reader#yautja imagine#yautja headcanon#alien vs predator x male reader#alien vs predator x reader#alien vs predator imagine#alien vs predator headcanon#predator x male reader#predator x reader#predator imagine#predator headcanon#elder yautja x male reader#elder yautja x reader#elder yautja imagine#elder yautja headcanon#i still know very little about yautja and yautja culture#but i love them anyways#how do we feel about comfortable retired yautja everyone?
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Sparkmates
IDW!Kup x Cybertronian!Decepticon!GN!Reader Oneshot
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Content: 18+. You and Kup are couple goals. Before and during the war.
Introduction Movie/Series Oneshot Masterlist
TW/Tags: Angst, wholesome moments, (Heavily) implied sex, (fake) death, blood, Kup is my robot husband I was living my dream writing this ok sue me, mild cursing, war, Deadlock is an asshole, Super long chapter. I believe that’s all?? (I changed a bit of lore- sort of to fit the story. I hope you guys can still enjoy!!!!!
Long, long before the war. You were a warrior you trained in mastery of swords. Although you also know how to use guns.
You also knew how to use swords. That being one of your main weapons besides your blasters. You have been around for a good while. Known by many to always have a smile on your dermas and narrowed optics to give you a softer look with your yellow optics.
You were a pretty tall bot as well. Being only a few inches shorter then Kup.
Understanding and mastering most weapons. Guns or not. Even at times working with making guns alongside bots like Hound. You were a pretty strong bot. Having a well built frame and a few small features.
Both being agile but strong. Not too bulky as you had a sort of knight look at some parts of your frame. (Almost like Rodimus in Animated. Just imagine that frame in IDW).
Before the war. You were once known for working along side your Sire Yoketron as he trains younger bots to protect theirselves.
One day when visiting Hound. You met him…Kup.
And boy were things different since then for the both of you. At the time he wasn’t an old bot who smoked and grumbled over everything as he worked under Optimus. He was a lot younger of course. His winkles having no existence at the time as he had a lot more life in him. Well that’s a lot more visible. (Think like a stereotypical hot college guy lol)
You two would eventually start chatting and before you both knew it. You both bonded. After Kup spent some time winning your Sire over for approval.
You always encouraging him to keep going forward and to show your sire his determination.
You two would then learn to except each others interest more and points of views over time. Then…on one faithful day….
He popped the question. Your courtship starting and before you knew it. You both were bonded.
But like most good things. It must come to an end.……
One day when in his apartment. Kup was going to ask you to join him and the Autobots. But when you returned speaking of your point of view with the decepticons. You two realized. You both were on a different path.
It was heartbreaking. But you both agreed to not hurt each other if you both can help it if your paths should ever cross….
You both couldn’t hold in your tears that night as you both left for war.
And so years went by. Before you knew it, its been millions of years. You were able to age slower thanks to the meditation and calmness of your nature. Not to mention how well you took care of yourself when not training and in battle.…
At times at least. Many decepticons throughout the years have tried to win your heart as you don’t seem older as most would expect you to be. Not to mention you skill and strong yet soft personality. Always having stories to tell.
Something that catches many by surprise. And the way you handle things even is also part of why other bots and femmes grow feelings for you. But you always end up as almost like a carrier, mentor, or sire to some bots anyway.
Overtime, although you won’t admit it. There’s one thing you do often look forward to when out on missions with other bots and femmes..
Is the possibility of running into Kups team. The Weckers.
You and Kup both made sure that no other Cybertronians knew about your relationship with each other long ago. But that doesn’t mean anything was still easier for the both of you. While you two would exchange looks. You two will never admit this now.
But you both always held back when trying to shoot at each other.
Luckily something Megatron will never find out. After all Megatron had no reason to not trust you. You’re one of his strongest worriors and one of the trusted advisors in his council. In both guns and swords.
Hand in hand combat as you were one of the bots who taught him to continue to be stronger.
Everything stayed like that since. Kup would lead and teach the bots under him and with him. Perceptor being the only one to know the relationship the two of you had.
One day though everything would change for the two of you. Unser if it’s for the better…or for the worse.
———————————————————————————
Kup and a few of the other wreckers were on their usual patrol. Keeping an optic out for any decepticons from coming near the base. After some time the wreckers started making conversation and well…Kup has always stayed secretive with some things. Even as the others knew something was always up when speaking about relationships.
As they continue, you and your group were heading to their location to find some energon. This group always taking you with them as back up.
Deadlock being one of the bots. You and him always got along. But nothing really in common. Despite the comments many would make and assume about you two.
Many assuming you both would become a couple because “Swords” and both having a sort of understanding with peace. But the truth was.
Most Decepticons at your area at least. But you two… Could give less of a shit about each other.
As you all made your way to your designated location in your alt modes. One of the femmes say they should transform and look around once set up.
Having the 2 snipers look for any camp as the others watch around to protect.
You and Deadlock up front and watching.
Both having one arm down as the other bent and the cervo on a sword handle. You and Deadlock both doing this but with opposite cervos. Standing far from the snipers as the others started working on their weapons.
“You sure this gun blaster with work Y/N?” A femme asks you as she kneels down next to you. You glancing down at her as you let out a sigh.
But not in annoyance. You’d not then speak without looking at the bot.
”I designed it didn’t I. You can trust with promise it works.” Deadlock side eyed you before looking forward for a moment. The bot huffed as the femme got the weapon ready before sitting down with it.
The femme from earlier walking into the open land searching for life and energon. Becoming bate for any possible autobot.
Luckily she’s fast so killing her will be hard.
Back with Kup and his gang one of the bots sees the decepticon. Another fight soon insues. You and Deadlock soon getting involved as you both ran together into battle.
During the long fight it was you against Springer who made sure to insult and in his way flirt with you every now and then.
Meanwhile Deadlock took on Kup.
Deadlock was able to get a good upper hand. Even insulting Kup for his age when he can. Despite being aware you were around the same age as him.
With you and Springer the fight was just as intense.
As you two fought. You mostly were in hand in hand combat. Showing his boxing skills no match for your martial arts.
But because you both were on higher ground. You both ended up falling down a steep and long hill.
Falling into tree of an unknown planet (not earth). Springer dragging you along as he try’s to get into a few good punches.l
As you both fell to the ground. You two now seperated by the others. You’d make your way to pin Springer down. Getting ontop of him and holding him down as he struggles against you.
—-
Meanwhile with Kup. He wasn’t having much of a good time either. Deadlock being able to get an upper hand.
Stabbing his sword into and through Kups leg before then twisting it in for good measures. Causing Kup to groan and scream as he lays there. Doing the same thing to his arm on the other side of his body. Both his upper arm and upper thigh now injured as he groans and looks at Deadlock. Deadlock just casually cleaning his swords before looking down at him.
”Sweet dreams…..you old brute.”
From there he walked away. Leaving Kup there as he bleeds out.
Back with you and springer he was able to get you off him…eventually. After being able to grab something off the floor and stabbing at your thigh with it. Causing you to groan. He’s stab you once more at the side of your waist.
Pushing you and shoving you down with both hands.
As he was fast to get ontop of you. Soon he stabbed you in your left eye before shoving your face down into the ground as he puts you in a headlock as you struggled against his strength. He defiantly trained with Kup before.
”You once had honor before joining Megatrons fake cause! I only hope Primus may forgive your spark as he sees the blood on your hands…..Him and Yoketron…”
You’d continue trying to fight against him but it was no use. For a moment you believed him though. Maybe…it was best to see if it’s time for you. After all no one’s really waiting for you now.
And so…you gave up. Your arms no longer on his as he continues.. Eventually you stopped moving.
Springer then letting you go.
He’d leave after spitting on your frame. Making his way to the others as he climbed up. Eventually the two teams would seperate as the decepticons realize they’d have to retreat. Thanks to you missing and Deadlock couldn’t take them all on.
The others asking where you were. Only for the leader to say you are in the Autobots mercy now as a response. Deadlock not paying much mind as he transformed and drove with the others.
The same thing happening with the Autobots.
Believing Kup was killed by one of you until Springer mentioned he killed you.
At least that’s what he thinks.
After some time when everyone else was gone. The wreckers believing Kup was gone. After a few kliks it soon started to pour with green rain. A moment of silence.
That is….until you woke up with a gasp. Soon standing up as you looked around confused. You’re…alive? That-…how??? You’d look around and wonder.
Returning to the field only to see everyone was gone as you notice their tire marks on the mud around you.
As you kept looking around you soon find….Kup.
Kup groaned as he tries to stop the bleeding from his arm. Only for it to at times be too painful for him to try to stop it. His groans loud as he closed his optics. You made your way closer to him and kneeled down.
”Kup.” Your voice soft as he slowly looked up at you. The rain almost getting in his way. So you leaned your upper body over his.
Using your cervos to support yourself over him. Your cervos on both sides of his helm as he finally looks at you. Taking note of your optics injury. “I’m truly dyin’….Guess I’ve always knew it be you who’s the last thing I see during this whole damn war.”
He chuckled. You missed that chuckle. “Dont worry Kup. I’ll get you patched up.”
You’d then get to work on his injures. He’d groan from time to time as you took out a few of your tools from your hip. You’d take a few from your first aid before every mission. You’d check on him once you finished.
“Kup you still with me?”
Kup then looks at you as he sighed. “Yeah…But don’t really like this rain much though.”
You’d sigh as you think for a moment. You’d then gently pull him up. Ignoring the pain the stabs in your thigh. Having him on your back with your cervos under his thighs as his frame rests against your back, the arm not injured wrapping around you neck as you walked to a close by cave you noticed when making your way to the spot earlier that day.
———————————————————————————
As you both made it to the cave you made sure to be very gentle with him. Setting him down against the wall of the cave. His cervo gently holding his injured arm as you checked his leg injury.
While you worked on it you didn’t expect to hear his voice as you kneeled before him consecrated.
”Why…Why are you helpin’ me Y/N Our…Our agreement…”
”Kup..I just…I just can’t right now.” You stay silent for a moment as Kup looks at you with curious optics.
“There’s more Y/N. Just spit it out.” You sigh.
”I just couldn’t leave you to die. I don’t wish to just leave you to bleed out….Even if you would do the same to me….” You looked down. His frown still there but..sadder. “Y/N…Do you still-”
He doesn’t finish as you grab his location transmission for his ship to come to you guys. “Y/N what are you-“
”You need to make it to the medical bay. Or else you’ll die.”
”But you need help too! Dont try being a hero now after everything! At least let the medic patch up you-“
”KUP!…….You. Come…First. The Autobots…they wont care I’m just another dirty decepticon who’s just leading you to deception…That’s all I am and all I’ll be! Understood!? You are going to be saved and we go our seperate ways. Like before as agreed!”
You’d keep at his leg before satisfied with how it is.
Kup only stared at you until he notices a big rock close to him.
“You know, when I think of us before. The possibility of us reuniting after our…separation. I thought it be on…different circumstances….heh even the possibility of it being over as we fought each other at most.”
You stay quiet for a moment before finally speaking as you then looked at him as you spoke. “Oh yeah and how you oof-“
Kup knocked you out with the rock in his cervo. He panted as he leaned back and looked at your unconscious body. Memories start flowing through his mind.
Snippets of you laying next to him on your shared berth. Your bright smile when you both were still young adults. When he would watch you sleep peacefully next to him. Back when you two were still Conjunx.
When you both still showed your love together…
Soon as he’s pulled out of his thought. The lights of his rescue ship appears. Kup letting out a sigh…He has a lot of explaining to do now…..
———————————————————————————
After Kup was saved and you were taken in. Kup explained everything to his and Optimus. Optimus was a bit more understanding and asked the right questions as they interrogate him.
After Optimus told Kup that although they must hold you captive. You are a dangerous bot after all. Having a reputation amongst the Autobots. Springer was to say at most, the most surprised after hearing you saved him.
But just like everyone else. He wasn’t sure how that was possible. It has to be some sort of miracle that you survived. Only being knocked out and all.
Soon after when Kup and his team go on thier own ship once more. With you as prisoner. The young bots didn’t waist anytime with flooding Kup with questions. ”So what the hell is the story with you two- like you two make out before knocking them unconscious?”
”More importantly how did you even bag that! They’re way more good looking then you!”
”Not too mention probably younger Kup!”
”What was sex with them like?”
”GIVE US TIPS OR SOMETHING OLD MAN!!!!!!!!!”
Kup has had it. Standing up and yelling at the bots to shut up.
“Will you all shut up alright??!! Ok we dated! We were married for a good while before the war. We went our different ways. That’s all you need to know! They chose to save me for some reason alright! I don’t know why either. But I couldn’t leave them on that planet to bleed out!!!…….Now drop it.”
He sits back in his seat as he looked down.
Springer then sighs and looks at the others. All of them with pleading optics for him to ask you a very certain question.
He’d then command for the ship to go on autopilot and turn his chair towards Kup who just sat there.
”Kup…tell us how you and Y/N….met.” Kup glances back at Springer as well as the other bots did. He’d then sigh. Turning his chair toawrds the direction to the others as he rubbed the bridge of his nose with his closed optics. Letting out an annoyed groan as he looked at the others.
“Fine Y’all really wish to know? I’ll tell ya. But NO interrupting. Understood?”
The bots nod as they stare at him. All then pulling out some energon like popcorn. Kup then speaks of the very you and Kup met.
———————————————————————————
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I was but a young bot at the time. Before the many of your were born. I wasn’t always such an old bot either.
Back then I didn’t have my wrinkles and not much of a smoking habit then. I was just an ordinary bot. Trying to find work to help protect under the council at the time.
I was good friends with Hounds boss who had the best war stories. And he owned a pretty good guns and weapons store along with a shooting area. Little did I know. He got his weapons specialized and even practived by a certain bot who would change my life then.
And…in a way I still don’t and will never regret that moment….even now. They’re still the most…..fascinating bot I have ever seen…..Y/N…..
The door chimes as you walked in. Your swords on your hip handles as usual. You pretty much looked the same. Having no eye bags and no wrinkles like the more faded ones you’ll have in present time.
You had your usual smile on your dermas.
Your optics narrowed as you sighed. Making your way to the front counter. Kup was there feeling the guns weight in his cervos before noticing you at the corner of his optics.
He’d look at you as you pass by. His intake open a bit as he stares at you. You speak to Hound as his mind starts racing.
Eventually putting the gun down before he works up the confidence to come up from behind to next to you. Resting his elbow on the counter as his frame faces you. Trying to put on the best smile he can.
But it ends up being more nerdy and awkward. You’re looking at a gun Hound gave you to look over as Kup finally speaks.
”Hey there. Haven’t seen you around..here..” He drifts as he notices your swords. You’d glance at them then back at him. Then raising your cervo to him to shake as you kept your signature smile. “Y/N. And you are?”
He slowly shakes yours as he smiles once more. “Kup. So uhh you-”
”Alright Y/N I got your payment. Tell your Sire I said hello.” Hound walks in interrupting you both. Kup feeling a bit of pain in his spark as he struggled with his words. His cervo still out and his arm bent.
You and hound speaking for a moment more.
”Goodbye Kup. It’s nice having have met you.” Your soft voice pulling him from his thoughts. He watched as you leave. Both your arms stay on your sides as your hips sway. Kup stands there with his intake open as his arms falls to his side finally.
Hound noticed and closed his intake using a digit as he looked at him confused. “You good?
I wasn’t- after that I just couldn’t get them out of my helm. Such a strange but exciting feeling. And so that next day. I made a….choice.
“Hey Hound.”
”Kup? What brings you here? Didn’t you just do your pick ups yesterday?” Kup rubbed the back of his helm.
”Yes- but I was wondering ‘bout that bot yesterday. Y/N?”
”You’re still on about that bot? They’re just someone who works at that dojo. Barely even use guns themselves. I’d say forget’em now Kup. It ain’t like you to-“ Hound was then pinned roughly against the wall by Kup.
”Hound. Just give me the location of them and I wont tell your boss your dirty little secret with his daughter.” Hound gulped as his cervos stay up. “Okay-“
Wait- Hound actually got laid?
That’s besides the point! After Hound finally spoke. His intake actually to some use. I made my way to the dojo. I wasn’t sure on what I was goin’ to say or do. But I knew I just had to try…Not like I had anyone waiting for more besides some roommates.
Kup made his way to the dojo your sire owns. As you were in the training room, helping elementary sparklings learn to kick. Your sire Yoketron was at the front desk speaking to one of his students.
He was a few feet taller. Having a more bulky build.
Kup walks in and looked around. The student leaving as Yoketron turns his attention to Kup as he places his cervos behind his back.
“What brings you here young bot? Is it guidence on your….violent path? Or…something more?” His optics narrow as he stares down at Kup. Noticing Kups traits and the way he stands.
Kup looked up at him with his optics a bit wide.
“Uh yeah- Y-yes! I’m looking for a certain bot. Their name bein’ Y/N. You happen to know them?”
”Tall bot, two swords, yellow optics?” He says say he pointed at his own optics. Even tilting his head as he spoke.
”Yes that’s them! Heh. Wondering to ask them about possibly….I don’t know going out or somethin. So they work here. Right?” The two stared at each other. Yoketron had his helm tilted a bit as he stared down at him. After a second he finally blinks then narrowed his eyes.
”What is your name and occupation young bot?” he asks placing his cervos back behind his back.
”Name’s Kup. I’m currently training under the council for the military. I serve and protect to fight in any future wars and serve the city. I mostly handle in guns you see.” He gently pats his rifle in the gun holder on his hip. Yoketron seems a bit alarmed but stays firm as he listened.
“Would you say guns should be used for “much” combat in way?”
Kup thought for a moment. “Uhhh Well yes I suppose since it’s faster and gets the job done more then well why not?”
Yoketron stands there again. But his helm no longer titled as he then looked at him and blinked. At first Kup almost had a grin. Thinking he got him to agree to let him see you. But then as Yoketron walked out.
He was holding the back collar and waist of Kup. Throwing him out as he falls on his aft with a groan. Kup then looking back at Yoketron as he sat there.
”Until you can learn to find your inner peace and to not rely so heavily in the studies of…Just Guns. But the possible use to better help one forth called enemy. You may see my child then…Kup.”
He’d then close the door as Kup groans and stands up.
Walking away. That’s until he gets an idea as he sees the dojo is also a home in the upstairs.
When Yoketron walked up the stairs to the living room of your apartment later that evening, you were making energon cake to celebrate his birthday. You’d notice something was up with him. “Are you ready Sire?”
“Yes my little one.” He responds with a smile. You keep your usual smile and serve him his energon cake as he sits down. You taking your seat next to him as he looks at the candles. His cervos on the table. “Make a wish Sire.”
wait- How’d your know that happened?
……….They told me.
Oh-.
Now stop interrupting!
Sorry-
So..later after buying some flowers and walking around a store close by. Waiting for my chance of either their old man leaving or even just seeing them through the glasss window.
I soon saw my chance as I saw their Sire Yoketron walk out of the dojo. Once he was far enough and I saw then at the front desk. I went straight in for their heart! I was a lot more naive at the time….
After some cake, Yoketron got ready for his outing. “I’ll be visiting some old friends from my teen years. You’ll be fine while I’m out my little one?”
“Yes Sire. Now enjoy yourself. I shall be here upon your return.”
He nods and walks out after giving you a warm. As he left. It being mid afternoon. Kup was waiting on the other side of the building next door. You’d make your way to the front inside ahead of the front desk. You’d start cleaning the floors with a broom. From there Kup makes his way closer. Seeing you as you had your back to the glass door. He had some flowers from the store across.
Before he walked in he checked his looks at his reflection in the glass. He groan at himself. Why was he acting like this???
He’d then clear his throat once he walked in. “Y/N hello-“
You’d turn around and see him as you still held your broom. “Oh Kup hello. What brings you here? Are in search for self defense possibly?”
He chuckles as he got closer to you.
”Well no. I’m just here to speak uh speak to you actually…” You two are silent for a moment. He seemed like he wanted more to say.
“Uhhh these are for you!!! Thought it be a nice restart of…meeting?”
You chuckled as you set the broom down and gently took the flowers. Your cervos gently brushing against his.
He blushed a bit. And he had to hold back his grin from getting bigger. You gently smelled the flowers before looking at him. “Thank you Kup. They’re beautiful. Is there anything I can do for you?”
”Weeeeell a date would be nice. Maybe at that restuarent down the street of the broadcast tower?”
He was panicking inside as he looked at you. Your optics widened a bit and even had a small blush on your cheeks. Your smile only gone for a moment before soon returning. You’d narrowed your optics as you looked back at the flowers. You’d then let out a soft chuckle.
“Alright Kup. Since you asked so nicely.”
Kup had the cutest and most silliest grin as he looked at you. But from there both of your optics widened as you both look back at the sound of a voice. “Little one I apologize. I forgot to tell you….”
Yoketron walks in with a smile on his dermas. But that soon leaves when he sees ou too. Only seeing ou through the glass.
You stood there. Still holding a large bouquet in your arms as you stood there. Your face blank as your bright yellow optics looked up at him. Kups face now full of worry and a bit of fear.
You’d then smile.
”Ah Sire Welcome back. This is Kup. What was it that troubles you?”
Yoketron was definitely holding back as he forced a smile. “Oh doesn’t matter. Just missed you little one.”
He walks over to you ignoring Kup. “Ah these flowers are beautiful.”
”Aren’t they? Kup here bought them for the store across I believe. Aren’t they lovely.” You’d smile.as you looked at Kup. Kup was internally screaming on the inside. “I’ll uh see you then……Bye!”
From there Kup left as Yoketron rested a cervo on your shoulder. You were confused but then pulled from your train of thought as your Sire spoke.
“That young one is not guided well my little one. Best be careful with him as you carve your path. And I’m afraid I’ll be gone for a few days. So the shop will be closed for a few until the weekend. Understood my dear?”
You’d nod. “Yes Sire I’ll be fine.” He’d smile and leave. He’d then look around then make his way to his destination.
And so after that I made my way back to my apartment. I thought about them. That’s literally all I could do. I just couldn’t stop. It was then though that I realized…..I forgot to set a date and time-
And so that same night after some tips from some friends. I got an idea.
As you made you way to your berthroom. Writing in your notebook of possible weapon upgrades. You’re pulled from your thoughts as you hear a knock on your window. You’d then see its Kup hanging on for dear life.
“Kup!!!”
You’d open the window and he’d sit on the window frame. One leg in as he spoke.He
“Hey sorry I forgot to tell you a date and time.”
”Oh that’s alright figured you’d visit tomorrow or somethin…..Would you like anything?”
”Oh no no I’m just thinking maybe we can meet…meet at 4…tomorrow?”
You let out a soft chuckle and nod.
“Sure I’ll see you then Kup.” He took note your smile is a bit wider as lets out a nervious chuckled and you two stared at each other.
”Well I should probably uhh head home from there. S…see you then.” He climbs out and closes the window. Him smiling as you did the same. Both of you looking at each others optics. But when he tried to take a step back. Your body turned to the side before fully turning around as you crossed your arms.
Kup forgets he’s on a roof. He falls back and lets out a shout. You’d hear and run to the window. Opening it as you looked for him. Sticking your upper body out the window as you looked down.
”Are you alright?!”
”Yeah yeah…I’m fine.” He’d say as he stood up. After dusting himself off he waves at you with a smile. “Until then!”
“Until then…” You waved back as you watched him walk away. A chuckle leaving your intake and a smile on your dermas. After he was out of view you’d close the window and head to your berth.
And from there. So much has happened. Our date went perfect as you can imagine. The two of us having a lot on common in fact. We both enjoying a lot of things including guns and war tactics. They weren’t as peace on earth as you’d expect. Even when you’d look at their Sire. They had…more character and much tougher even.
Which defiently my type. After our date we ended the day with a kiss. Though I’ll admit I did get a bit carried away. But who wouldn’t?
And so after we’d have a few more dates. Eventualy when their sire returned I got to meet him in better terms. I eventually won his heart after I agreed to train under him for a good while just to gain his trust…..
And so after a few months after we started dating. I grew more in love with them every single day. Every..second I’d look at them. Think of them. And even when I didn’t think of them for a moment I’d still catch myself falling in love with them more and more. That was…..until the war started.
Everyone was choosing sides. Losing their jobs and so on. I wanted them to join the Autobots so that we can be together as we grow old through the war…but…
As you made your way into your shared apartment with Kup. He was sitting on the couch. His cervos together and his helm low. His knee moving up and down in his nervousness before he looked up at you.
“Y/N! You weren’t attacked were you?”
”No Kup. You know I can protect myself.” You say as he stood and walked up to you. His cervos on your waist as he looked down at you with worried optics.
You placing your cervos on his chest and shoulders as your forhelms touch. Tears forming in your optics.
”They…they got to Yoketron….I..I couldn’t tell if they were decepticons or Autobots-“
”Shh Shh Y/N. It’s ok…. I’m so sorry…He’s with the all spark now. He’s with Primus now. At least he wont be a part of this war now sweetspark…” He kisses your forhelm as you closed your optics.
You calm your tears as you looked up at him..”Kup……Megatron and Optimus Primes words….Their points of views….”
Kups optics widen a bit before returning to narrowing. Sad but almost hope in his optics as he spoke. “Y/N I…..I made the choice to join the Autobots….I..I don’t know if you…”
He sees tears fall down your cheeks more as you stared at him…..He finally sees it once you pulled back a bit. The decepticon logo on your chest as you cried. He just stares at it. Processing it..
”Is this…what you truly believe to be right for you sweetspark?” His voice cracked a bit at sweetspark.
His forhelm touching yours once more. “….Yes Kup…Megatron has a point with this…messed up system….and…and…” His dermas were against yours.
You returning the kiss immediately as both of your optics remained closed.
The kiss was passionate. Much like your first as it lasted. But…sadder now. Your soft kisses the only thing heard in the room as you both held each other for a bit longer.
Eventually he’d pull away for a moment. His dermas a little close to yours as he whispers. “I wont fight you sweetspark….But….” His cervos now on your shoulders as he pulls away. His optics soft as he has the frown he’ll soon wear all the time to his old age as he spoke.
”An autobot…cant be with a decepticon…and if our paths were to ever cross….we shouldn’t hold back….We are nothing more but enemies from then on……”He says as he walks past you to the door. Saying that last part as he opened the door.
“You shall always be in my spark…maybe in another life.” You two gave each other one last kiss. Not caring if it’s right or wrong…
Once he pulls away. He backs up only a little bit.
“Good bye..Sweetspark….I’ll always keep you in my spark.. even if I can’t see it.”
Once he was out. You teared up only more. You two saying that was your way of saying I love you. You falling to your knees as Kup hears your soft sobs through the door. Tears falling down his cheeks as he tried to remain strong. Making his way to Optimus once his tears finally disappeared….
———————————————————————————
“And that’s basically how it ended…”
The few of the wreckers were holding in their tears as they just stared at Kup.
Bulkhead though was the biggest cry baby in there as whirl tried to calm him down. “Chill out dude-“
”AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH It’s so Saaaaaaaaad” Bulkhead cries as he blows his “nose” in a tissue. As the others cry too, even Kup looked at them surprised.
Springer then becomes the one with the idea. “Kup maybe you should….talk to them. Try to understand this and well….maybe in some way…there’s hope for the both of ya.”
Kup took in his words as he looked down for a moment. The others agreeing with him as Kup then sighs. “Yeah I…Guess I’ll give it a try.”
He’d stand up as the others watched. Making his way the cells where you were behind held captive in.
You were already awake. Your cuffed to the wall with two of your arms up. Same with your ankles being cuffed as well as you could only watch out the window from your cell.
Eventually though you’d notice the cameras turning off as their lights turned off.
Kup soon appears, opening the cell. You took note he had a bandage on his leg and his arm. He did have a limp. He took note of your bandages as well. You had a patch over your eye now as well as a bandage on your thigh as you’re held up.
Along with a wrap around your waist.
He’d make his way to stand infront of you. Leaving the cell opened as you two stare at each other in silence.
Until he spoke.
”They um….patched you up pretty well huh..”
”Yeah..They did. …They um…They..:
“Kup..Why are you here?”
Kup thinks. He thinks hard as you look at him.
”Why don’t we..have a chat. Hm?” He pulls a chair and sits in front of you.
”Sure, not like I can go anywhere.” You both chuckled as you both began to speak. Talking abut the good. The bad. Everything throughout the year. Eventually the two of you reach a heart to heart.
Even as you spoke about how the Decepticons are no longer what they were build up for in the first place.
But despite you wanting to leave. It was a lot harder than what most Cybertronians would expect. You’d explain how you’d wish to leave but always felt so trapped. Especially when around Deaddlock who is one of the only few bots who can match you.
Then you two spoke about the past when you both dated. You made a mention. Something you forgot to keep secret from your hot headed partner. Causing him to stand up as he confronts you.
”You were once courted by Hound??! How come I never heard of this before??”
”He asked me to not tell you. Me and him just ended things on good terms when we realized it wouldn’t work out.”
”How long before us?”
”…………”
”Y/N.”
”mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm like two…..” He raises an optics ridge. “Two?…”
”weeks-“
”Two weeks before we met??!!”
”Yeap-“
Kup started losing his crap. Throwing the chair and talking shit about Hound.” That guy can’t even- UUGHH!!!”
”Yeah and after that he went into a relationship with his bosses daughter. At least he finally realized what he wanted before breaking another’s heart huh.”
You’d say with a smile as Kup finally calmed down. Before standing before you again. “Oh we are so having a talk later. I already…….I already spent enough time here…..”
”Will you…visit me again?”
You’d say as he looked at you before grabbing his cigar. Something he did out of habit everyday. He’d look at you. Your optic soft and…sad..
He’d then think again before coming closer to you. His chest almost touching yours as he spoke. “I want you to be honest with me….Do you…..Do you still love me Y/N?”
You’d stare into his optics. Both surprised but….honestly happy from his question. So as you opened your intake. You spoke nothing but the truth.
”Honestly….The love I have for you…It never truly went away. What we both had back then…It never truly stopped.”
Kup only stared at you. Knowing that you’re telling the truth. He’d then sigh before nodding as he looks at you once more. Only to start uncuffing the cuffs on your ankles.
”Kup what are you-“
“Before I do your hands…Y/N will you join the Autobots? Join me? The wreckers are one of the best teams you’ll ever join! Join me and we can restart!……This is the only chance I can give you…..”
His cervos rested on your waist as you looked away for a moment. Maybe this can be your chance?…..Why not? And so with a shaky voice but warm and soft…you spoke.
”I will fight..For the Autobots.” Causing Kup to smile as he finally releases your arms from the cuffs. His arm around your waist as he handles the other cuff.
So when you were finally not against the wall, you weight was against him and he gently sets you on the floor. Your cervos on his shoulders as his other arm wraps around your waist as well. You both staring at each other with small smiles on both of your dermas.
“So, you goin’ kiss me like you miss me?” You asked teasing. Him letting out a soft chuckle.
”Boy did I ever before huh?” You both let out a chuckle as your dermas soon meet.
Unlike your last one. Similar to your very first kiss. While still filled with love and passion. It wasn’t full of sadness like the last one. Or unsure and scared as the first one. This….this one is more certain. Almost impatient as your cervos move to the back of his helm.
His arms around your waist gently holding you against him as the kiss grows more hungry. His cervos then picking you up by your thighs, you moving your legs around his waist as your cervos remain where they are.
You’d pull away for a moment. Your optics narrowed as your dermas are close to his. His optics narrowed as well.
“I missed you Kup..”
“…..I missed you too sweetspark..” you both smiled.
Both soon returning to your kiss. It becoming more and more heating as you both cling to each other.
Luckily since the Wreckers didn’t have any other prisoners. You both didnt have to worry about making too much noise. Until you got forgot of course.
Before you both knew it Kup had your back against the wall. The sounds of your kisses and moans in the cell as you both soon then..hear a couple clicks.
You two defiently have a lot of making up to do. Every second worth it!
—Meanwhile with the Wreckers….
Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank Clank
Whirl was sipping on some energon coffee. Only for it to fall on his lap from the cup and make a mess as the others were playing cards. Springer having his cervos interlocked as he watched forward. Bulkhead then looking at Springer ad the others soon do the same.
Springer then sighs as he rubs the bridge of his nose. “He earned it. Can’t say scrap this time guys.”
The others groan.
“Yeah that’s it just like the old days!!!” Kup yells causing the wreckers to groan more and Bulkhead to cover his own audio sensors. This went on for a good while after…..-
Bonus—
As you spoke to the Wreckers.
Them curious on how someone like Kup was able to convince you to date him.
Looking at your point of view.
Kup can be seen in the background strangling Springer with just his cervos as Springers own are on Kups arms. Trying to stop him.
Yeah Springer told Kup why you were knocked out.
So Kup descided to teach the poor lad a lesson on what happens when you mess with his sparkmate.
A lesson he’ll surely never forget.
UGH!!!!!! I LOVED WRITING THIS!!!!! THIS WAS SO FUN AND GOD IM SO HAPPY TO FINALLY WRITE FOR HIM!!!!
I hope all you other Kup simps were able to read and enjoyed this. Sorry that it’s so long. I got so carried away but I regret nothing!!!! I hope you to see you guys in the comments and hear y’all opinions. So ya know don’t be too mean lol.
Anyway y’all know a repost is always appreciated and I hope to see you guys in the next post and have a good rest of your day!!!!
#x reader#transformers#transformers x reader#transformers idw x reader#idw tf#tf idw#idw deadlock#idw kup#transformers kup x reader#transformers kup#tf kup#kup
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How about one where Bruce and M!Reader have been dating for a while. Reader lives in the manor and everyone in the family has opened up to reader accept Damien. One night when reader is babysitting Damien while everyone else is out reader is able to finally get through to Damien. He really opens up to reader and even ends up falling asleep in readers lap much to the shock of everyone. Reader becomes Damien’s favorite person and he is always practically clinging to readers side. If not it’s totally fine!
Oh yes! Bruce would wonder for ages. Also, no specific version of Bruce in mind, imagine any version you want. This gif popped up first.
Summary: (Y/N) does something that no one was able to do. Damian opened up.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of psychological warfare, (Y/N) is patient man, Damian is not trusting, did I mention fluff?,
(Y/N) and Bruce were match made in heaven according to Bruce's three boys plus Alfred. Bruce and (Y/N) have been dating for 3 years and (Y/N) has moved in just a few months ago to live with Bruce. The 3 boys were happy. One wasn't. But we will get to that later.
Every member of this house, expect for one, loved (Y/N). At first they thought that he was a gold digger and was just looking for money and fame. Couldn't be further from the truth. Bruce even trusted (Y/N) to tell him that he's Batman.
He was often supportive of them, didn't try to stop them, or talk them out of it or snitched. In fact, before (Y/N) moved into the manor, he would leave little snacks for the boys and Bruce to take during patrol. He slept during that period because he has a job and he can't work while sleepy.
Everyone loved it. Besides Damian, but we will get to him later. Of course, they all went to the apartment to get those snacks. It was a nice change and those snacks were lit. They gave them an energy boost and they were all happy to have the boost that runs out when they get home.
And there was one important thing that (Y/N) has that Bruce is not really known for it. Emotional availability. Boys came by to his apartment when they needed to talk to him about anything and they would be sure that (Y/N) wouldn't tell anything to Bruce unless it was serious.
Now, when Bruce proposed to (Y/N), everyone was happy. Besides Damian, but that was then. The 3 out of the 4 four boys were happy that they had a stable person alongside Alfred and they would be happy to have a second parental figure, considering that Bruce was slightly overwhelmed and needed support he needed.
Of course, the media caught wind of this and was all over (Y/N) for it. It was difficult to live a normal life, but since he was an author, he spent his time at home and just decided to keep going out to a minimum. Bruce made sure he was taken care of, knowing it wasn't easy.
(Y/N) moved in when his address got leaked and the press started hounding him even more. Bruce already wanted (Y/N) to move in, even before he proposed to him. So, one weekend, (Y/N) packed his stuff and Bruce helped him move to the manor, making some space in his room, just for (Y/N).
Everyone was happy and helped (Y/N) in any way to help him settle in. Besides Damian. Damian wasn't happy by any means and he didn't like any of this. His mother should have been the one in (Y/N)'s spot.
So what does Damian do in that situation?
Psychological warfare it is. (Y/N) found his stuff going missing from time to time. Damian would be close to him one day, then distant and cold the other and there was no way to see if he was actually any progress. Then, it got a little bit more extreme.
Damian tried to mess with him even more, more directly. Bruce and the others tried to persuade Damian and Bruce knew that punishment would only fuel the problem. (Y/N) knew that he had to prove himself to Damian that he could stand in this family.
So, (Y/N) asked Bruce to train him. To show him the ropes. Bruce was surprised and he could see why, he was hesitant, but did it anyway. Now, (Y/N) knew how to fight, knew how to see signs of something psychological happening, such as manipulation and warfare.
(Y/N) was more than ready to take on Damian and crack that tough exterior. Bruce was more than supportive, but worried that (Y/N) doesn't get hurt by Damian. (Y/N) has said that it doesn't matter. He wants Damian to accept him no matter how long it took.
Everything came to a head one evening when everyone needed to go out somewhere and (Y/N) was stuck babysitting Damian. He didn't mind it actually and it was going to be a great time to bond. Of course, if Damian wants to bond. He would never force Damian to bond. It would counter productive.
Right now, he would fancy a movie night or something like that. He made himself comfortable on the couch, a cup of green tea on the coffee table and he got himself a blanket. He put some snacks on the table too and turned on the TV to check what's on.
He could easily go to Netflix and check what to watch. This is going to be a rather nice night.
" You know father doesn't love you? " Damian said from behind the couch, near the kitchen. (Y/N) turned his head to look at him and then took his hot green tea.
" I know he does, otherwise I wouldn't be engaged to him. "
Damian scoffed and moved closer to the couch, but still far enough.
" You can scoff all you want, but I know you hate me because me because you want your mom to be with Bruce so that you can be a family. " (Y/N) said and Damian was quiet. (Y/N) knew he has hit a nail on the head with that statement.
" Also, I know you think I will try to replace your mom, but I won't be trying to. "
Damian scoffed once more and (Y/N) laugh. " Damian, you were raised by assassins and you are the son of Batman. You know when people are bullshitting you. " (Y/N) said and took a sip of his tea.
Damian knew that as well. He could see if someone was lying directly to his face. Damian moved quietly and sat down next to (Y/N), still some distance between the two. (Y/N) didn't say anything as he watched Damian, waiting for him to start. He waited for Damian to start talking.
" I... Do you know anything about my upbringing? " Damian asked (Y/N), crossing his arms, still defensive.
" I just know it was rough. Some said hell. I don't know any specifics. " (Y/N) explained and sipped his tea.
" Well... It could be described as hell... I was taught to kill anyone in 50 different way using a single object. I was never really shown love, only seen an heir to the league and the son of Batman. " Damian started and (Y/N) put his tea down, giving him his full attention.
Damian stayed silent before he started talking once more. " I was trained to be an assassin and love was... Not a thing there. When I came here, I was still cold, despite everyone trying to be nice to me. I guess deep down, I still missed my mother. When you entered the picture, I was pissed. I thought you wanted to replace my mom. " Damian paused for a moment.
(Y/N) watched him in silence. He allowed him to compose himself.
" And you were nice, so I got suspicious. Even when father recently proposed to you, I was mad and pissed." Damian said, frowning and shaking his head. " I couldn't understand why you would be so loving towards us. But I see the way father looks at you and how much he loves you and how much he has opened up emotionally. The way everyone has... " Damian stopped and moved closer to (Y/N) who lifted a blanket to let Damian get closer.
Damian did just that and he hugged (Y/N). (Y/N) wanted to scream from happiness, but he had to remain calm. " And when you didn't leave when I messed with you, there was something more than intrigued me about you. "
(Y/N) put his hand on Damian's shoulder and Damian relaxed. " I'm guessing I didn't get any love when I was younger so I guess I was just repellent to love. "
(Y/N) smiled and hugged Damian. " Don't blame yourself. I don't blame you at all. If you feel bad, we can start over completely. A new slate. Clean slate. " (Y/N) suggested and Damian nodded and (Y/N) saw a small smile on Damian's face.
" Good. " (Y/N) said, smiling widely and watched as Damian put his head on his lap, before covering himself with the blanket. I smile and pat his head.
" I know it's not easy to trust me, but I'm here for the long run. " (Y/N) said and Damian let out a hum.
" Are you tired? " (Y/N) asked and Damian nodded, closing his eyes. (Y/N) didn't say anything and caressed Damian's hair. (Y/N) smiled widely, happy that Damian liked him.
Bruce and the others came back home, worried beyond belief. Is (Y/N) hurt? Is he even alive? Bruce and the others checked the living room, one worried for his fiancé, the others worried for their dad number two.
Well, they didn't expect to see Damian sleeping in (Y/N)'s lap, looking calm and peaceful. (Y/N) shushed them with bringing his finger to his lips. He smiled back at Damian who shuffled a little bit, looking like he was going to wake up, but he remained asleep.
Bruce's jaw dropped a little.
" Hi. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce smiled, melting at the sight of Damian laying on (Y/N)'s lap. The other 3 boys are still in shock.
" How? " Bruce whispered back as he moved closer to the duo.
" He opened up on his own. " (Y/N) whispers and Bruce cards his hand through Damian's short hair.
" Really? " Bruce whispered and kissed (Y/N)'s forehead.
" Yes. I think Damian and I will bond more. " (Y/N) whispered back, smiling. He kisses Bruce softly and looks back at Damian.
" Lets get him to bed and then get you to sleep. I'm afraid that I have to go on patrol tonight. " Bruce explains and take Damian into his arms. (Y/N) stands up and says hi to his other sons. He gave each a hug, before going to his room to sleep. He made sure that Damian is tucked in the bed and Bruce made sure he tucked Damian in correctly.
After that night, Damian was always near (Y/N), following him around, making sure he was safe at all time. Can you blame Damian? When ever they are out and doing something, press hounds them and Damian has to make sure that his dad is okay. Like, what did you expect from him?
Bruce didn't say anything as he saw how Damian spent a lot of time with (Y/N). It was nice to see and Bruce know how Damian would protect him from anything that might hurt him.
Now, what shocked Bruce was the first time Damian called (Y/N) dad. It was not something he expected and he had to sit down on the couch for a moment.
The rest of the family lost their collective minds. (Y/N) cried and hugged Damian tightly. He has never been happier and he was officially going to adopt all four of them. He talked to Bruce about adopting those four, but only when they all accepted them.
Now he was going to do just that, without a doubt. The others also called him dad, but Damian calling him that? (Y/N) was officially happy and could move to adopt all four boys. He would do that once he marries Bruce and since Bruce has connections, he could speed the thing up.
Now, does any of this mean that Damian is (Y/N)'s favorite son? Nope. He loved all of them equally. Maybe a little bit more than Bruce. And now, even when (Y/N) and his sons are now cuddling on the couch, watching a movie, (Y/N) has never felt so calm and relaxed.
This was something that he wishes never stops. Bruce may have or may have not snapped a few pictures.
#dc comics#dc x male reader#x male reader#bruce wayne x male reader#batman x male reader#damian wayne x male reader#robin x male reader
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Congratulations on the followers!
Can I please request a fluffy enemies to lovers with a clone of your choice with the prompt “Did you just call me cute?”
Would love to see any! Female reader if possible. Thanks! 💓
Up Close and Personal 🌊
🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female!Reader
word count: 3.9k
prompt:
• “Did just call me cute?”
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/163f7dcb8e6a84c68bf0d10d4d619c89/5d8e821a43d02070-bf/s540x810/98e53110469f4fd5df29c46994ac4c01786deb89.jpg)
Plot: When you accidentally let slip you thought Fox was cute, he grows curious and wonders if you still think the same under the helmet.
Warnings: Safe for work, grumpy/sunshine trope, teasing, awkward moments, flirting, kissing, mutual pining, accidental confessions.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/48c7495d370f0f803d4509a7bd3358a7/5d8e821a43d02070-2c/s540x810/b4f0a782c8b3a4931aaa14d249fd6ea9c7ae0663.jpg)
You’ve been working alongside the Coruscant Guard for a while now, handling everything from delivering reports to managing routine tasks that help keep the operation running smoothly. Most of the clones greet you with a warm smile and friendly chatter when you drop by.
You were cheerful and always had a smile on your face, nothing ever seeming to phase you.
But when it comes to Commander Fox, he doesn’t seem to match your enthusiasm. Where others find a moment to chat or joke around, Fox’s response is always the same: curt and dismissive.
You remember one time when you entered the office, probably a fortnight ago, laughing with Thire and Stone as you handed them their files. “You’re a lifesaver,” Thire had said with a sigh of relief and grin after his had miraculously gone missing. You of course always had extra, just in case.
Stone chuckled and added, “You’re the only reason we stay organised.”
Before you could reply, however, Fox cut in. His tone like durasteel. “Can you just leave the files and go? Some of us are trying to work.” He hadn’t even looked up, but the chill in his voice was unmistakable. You forced a smile, and rolled your eyes at his attitude when you left the office that day. It didn’t bother you as you were used to his moods but you couldn’t help wondering what it would take to get past that fickle exterior.
And despite his attitude, you had noticed Fox’s subtle care for his brothers; something you found rather endearing. You’ve caught him running silent armour checks, making sure everyone’s gear is spotless and in perfect order. Of course, it’s not about vanity but simply about keeping his men safe.
It’s those types of moments that make you think there’s more to him beneath the mask. Or helmet in this case.
Today, you decide to do something different. Rumors have been swirling that the Guard’s workload has been overwhelming lately. Crime in the lower levels is on the rise, and the boys are sadly running themselves ragged. So, you arrive at their station with a special treat: caf orders, each customised exactly how you know they like it.
You start with Commander Thire, who breaks into a grin as you hand him his cup. “You’re too good to us,” he says, taking a sip. “Thanks.”
Next is Stone, who raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Didn’t expect this today,” he says, taking the steaming cup. “But I’m not complaining.” He shoots you a wink. “You really know how to keep morale up.”
Sergeant Hound, busy tinkering with his gear with Grizzer snoozing at his feet looks up with a smile when you hand him his drink. “You actually remembered mine,” he says, sounding almost impressed. He takes a long sip before giving you a small nod. “Cheers. Really needed this.”
Finally, you approach Fox. He’s leaning back in his chair, arms folded across his chest, watching you carefully through his visor. “I’ll assume you didn’t get me anything,” he says, voice as flat as ever.
You fight back a smirk and meet his gaze behind the visor. “You assume wrong, Commander.” You slide the cup across his desk. It’s strong, with a hint of sweetness—your best guess based on what you’ve observed. Alongside it, you place a small sweet treat and the stack of data devices you’ve been carrying. Oh, and you also could help but draw a small smiley face on the lid to his cup.
Fox doesn’t touch the drink. Instead, he gives a sharp nod. “Just leave it and go.”
You swallow your disappointment, trying to keep your smile from faltering. “Of course, sir.” You turn to leave, the brief flash of hurt lingering despite your best efforts to shrug it off. Huh, maybe it did get to you.
As you exit, you catch a glimpse of Thire, Stone, and Hound exchanging looks before Thire’s voice cuts through the room. “You know, Fox, a ‘thank you’ wouldn’t kill you.”
Fox remains silent, but you don’t stay long enough to see or hear his reaction. The door closes behind you, and you let out a quiet sigh.
Moments later, you hear quick footsteps behind you. “Hey, wait up!”
You turn to see Thire jogging to catch up. “Don’t take it personally,” he says, offering a sympathetic smile. “Fox is… well, Fox. If he didn’t like you at least a little, he wouldn’t let you stick around.”
You laugh softly, though the sting hasn’t fully faded. “Doesn’t feel like it sometimes. I know he’s under a lot of stress, but still…”
Thire nods, understanding in his eyes. “He’s got a funny way of showing appreciation. But trust me, we all see what you do for us, even if he doesn’t say it. You’re a bright spot in this whole mess.”
Your smile this time is more genuine, though still a bit weak. “Thanks, Thire. I just wish I could get through to him, you know?”
“Give it time,” Thire says, clapping a hand on your shoulder. “He’ll come around. Until then, we’ve got your back.”
A few days later, you arrive with—surprise, surprise—yet another stack of files. You expect to find the usual group in the office, and sure enough, Thire, Stone, and Hound are all at their stations, busy with their tasks. But there’s one notable absence: Commander Fox. You glance around, scanning the room in curiosity.
Before you can ask, Stone notices the way you’re searching and smirks. “Looking for someone?”
Your cheeks warm slightly, realising you’ve been caught. “Nope,” you reply, a little too quickly. “Just… making sure I don’t miss anyone.”
Thire chimes in, an amused glint in his eye. “Sure, that’s what you’re doing.”
You roll your eyes playfully, trying to play it off. “Honestly, you guys are worse than all those gossiping cadets and shinies.”
“Did Fox ever apologise for the other day?” Hound asks as you stand nearby, shifting through some flimsi. His question surprised you a little since you hadn’t truly thought about it until now. But, you shake your head with a dismissive wave. “Nah, but it’s fine. I’m used to him being a grump. Besides,” you add with a smile, “you lot make it worth coming around.”
But then Stone started to dig a little deeper as he leans back in his chair. “Did you think about what Thire said? About Fox not minding you hanging around?”
You bite your lip, remembering Thire’s words all too well. Now that did have you wondering for most of that night. For someone who always wanted you to go, he never actually told you to fully leave.
“Yeah, actually. It got me thinking… maybe he’s not as bothered by me as he pretends.” You pause, considering your next question. “Hey, have any of you actually seen him without his helmet?”
The three of them exchange glances before Thire nods, a mischievous grin tugging at his lips. “How do you think he downed that caf you brought him the other day?”
You lean back against the wall, arms crossed as you think it over but also a little smug knowing that Fox clearly liked your drink choice for him. “I always wondered what he looks like under there. Maybe he’s got some cool tattoos, or, like, bright red hair or something; to match the gear.”
Stone shrugs, pretending to be nonchalant. “Could do. But we’re not spilling anything.”
You narrow your eyes at them playfully, but before you can push further, you find yourself blurting out, “I mean, I bet he’s kinda cute.”
There’s a beat of silence before all three of them break into laughter. Hound gives you a teasing nudge. “So, you’ve got a crush on the boss now, huh?”
You wave them off, feeling your face flush. “No, I mean—well, no, yes, kinda? I don’t know!” You fumble with your words, realising you’ve put yourself in an awkward spot. You wouldn’t say it was much of a crush but you did admire him.
“It’s not like that. He’s just interesting, I guess. Annoying, but in a weird way, it’s kind of… cute?”
The boys exchange amused glances, and you’re about to defend yourself further when you notice all of their gazes suddenly lock onto something—or someone—behind you. The laughter dies down, and your stomach drops.
Before you can even turn around, a deep voice rumbles from directly behind you. “Did you just call me cute?”
You freeze, feeling your blood run cold. Slowly, you turn to face Fox, who’s standing there with his arms crossed, his helmeted visor trained directly on you. You can’t tell what expression he’s wearing underneath, but the deadpan delivery of his question makes you want to disappear into the nearest ventilation system.
“I—uh…” you stammer, utterly at a loss. “Well, you see—”
Thire, Stone, and Hound are barely holding in their snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. Fox’s posture remains unyielding as he waits for you to say something. Anything.
You finally manage a weak shrug. “I mean sure, why not?”
For a long moment, there’s nothing but silence, and you’re certain you’ll never live this down. But then, just when you think it couldn’t get worse, Fox turns his helmet slightly as if considering your words. “Interesting,” is all he says before he strides past you, not giving anything away.
The room erupts in laughter as soon as he’s out of earshot, leaving you standing there, cheeks burning, as Thire claps you on the back. “Well, if that’s not a confession, I don’t know what is.”
“I’m never going to hear the end of this, am I?”
Stone grins. “Nope. But hey, at least now you’ve got him wondering.”
You playfully slap Stone’s arm with the thick stack of flimsi you were holding. “You’re impossible, you know that?” you tease, but there’s a grin on your face despite your embarrassment.
Stone just chuckles, dodging away from your reach. “You make it too easy, kid.”
Shaking your head, you wave the guys off. “Okay, I’m leaving before I say anything else stupid. You’ll just have to survive without me for a bit.”
As you walk away, you can still hear their laughter, and although your cheeks are still warm, you can’t help but smile.
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Over the next week or two, you notice that Fox isn’t in his office as much. You’re not one to pry, but eventually, Thire lets it slip that it’s the Supreme Chancellor who’s been keeping him busy, not the fact that he might be avoiding you. “He’s been running all over the place on Palpatine’s orders,” Thire had said. “Trust me, it’s not about feeling awkward with you around.”
You nod, but you can’t help the nagging thoughts that linger. Still, you push them aside, deciding it’s better not to dwell on it.
One afternoon, you arrive at the office, balancing a tray with the usual caf orders and some sweet treats. It’s become a bit of a weekly ritual now, something the guys seem to look forward to. But today, when you step inside, the office is eerily quiet—no Thire, no Stone, no Hound. And non-surprisingly, no Fox.
You frown, setting the tray down on the nearest desk. “Hello?” you call out, but the only response is the hum of the overhead lights.
Shrugging, you decide to leave everything on their desks for when they return. You place each clone’s drink down, making sure their reports are organised alongside them.
When you reach Fox’s desk, you pause. It’s a bit messier than usual, the clutter showing signs of someone who’s been overworked and stretched thin. Your brows furrow in concern as you instinctively start tidying up, sorting the files and stacking the more urgent ones on top.
As you organise his drawers, you’re about to close one when something catches your eye. An empty caf cup, tucked away almost like it’s been hidden. You pull it out and recognise it immediately—it’s the cup you gave Fox the other week, the one with the little smiley face you drew on the lid. Your heart skips a beat. He kept it.
For a moment, all you can do is stare at the cup, a small, unexpected warmth blooming in your chest. Maybe there’s more to his gruff exterior than you first thought. Maybe he does have a soft spot for you, even if he won’t admit it.
“Can I help you?”
You jump, nearly dropping the cup as you whirl around to face the door. There stands Fox, his arms tucked behind his back, his gaze unreadable behind his helmet.
“Fox—Commander!” you stammer, hastily shoving the cup back into the drawer and closing it. “I was just… fixing things.” Your voice trails off as you awkwardly step away from his desk, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his gaze.
He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, and you feel your pulse quicken. “I’ve been meaning to speak to you.”
“Oh! Sure, of course!” You’re flustered now, your mind racing. “Is it about the reports? Or maybe the supply request? Or—”
“No.”
You clamp your mouth shut, cheeks burning as you mentally curse yourself for rambling. You stand there in silence, waiting for him to continue, while he circles around you with the careful precision of someone used to keeping others off balance. His presence is commanding (oh the irony), making the room feel smaller as he closes the distance between you.
“I had overheard something the other day,” he says, his voice low, almost conversational. “You were wondering what I looked like. Wondering if I had tattoos, colorful hair…” He trails off, his tone giving nothing away.
“I—uh—well, I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just curious, you know? I hope you didn’t take offense, Commander. It wasn’t—”
He stops in front of you, so close now that you can see your own reflection in the dark visor of his helmet as you crane your neck to look at him. “Why not?” he asks, cutting off your nervous rambling. “Do you not want to know if I’m ‘cute’ or not?”
The words hang in the air between you, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. His tone isn’t mocking, but there’s a subtle challenge in his voice, as if daring you to admit something you haven’t even fully acknowledged to yourself.
You try to swallow the lump in your throat, searching for a response. “I—I mean… maybe?”
His head tilts slightly, as if studying you. “You know, I rarely remove my helmet. It’s part of who I am, part of the uniform. Most people never see what’s underneath.”
“I get it,” you say quickly, eager to reassure him. “It’s not like I need to know. You’re still you, helmet or not.”
But as you speak, he moves closer, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “And yet, you’re curious.”
Your gaze flicks up to meet his visor, the tension thick enough to cut through. “Maybe a little,” you admit, barely above a whisper.
You think he’s about it leave, a small stagger in his step. But instead of stepping back as you expect, he reaches up and, with a slow and deliberate motion, removes his helmet.
Your breath catches in your throat. You were expecting him to look like the other clones but nothing prepared you for this.
His hair, salt and peppered with a few streaks of silver, is slightly messy but still shows a hint of soft curls. Framing his face in a way that’s both rugged and refined. But it’s his eyes that catch your immediate attention.
A deep, rich brown, just like his brothers but darkened by exhaustion. Yet somehow still smolder with an intensity that makes your heart stop. They’re striking, alive with an alluring warmth that makes it hard to look away.
You’re utterly speechless, barely registering that your mouth has gone dry. He’s not just cute; he’s absolutely gorgeous. His lips curve into a knowing smirk as he tilts his head at you, clearly gauging your reaction.
“So, tell me…” he drawls, his tone soft and low as he notices your gaze drifting to his lips, “how ‘cute’ am I?”
Your mouth opens, but the words you want to say get stuck somewhere in your throat. You feel a sudden heat rising to your cheeks and creeping down your neck, making you feel warm under the collar. For months, you had wondered what it would be like to be this close to him, to hear his voice without the filter of that helmet, to feel his presence in an almost tangible way. Now, with his breath fanning your face, it’s almost overwhelming.
“You’re… you’re…” You struggle to find the right words, but everything comes out in stutters as your brain short-circuits under the intensity of his gaze.
Fox leans in closer, his eyes never leaving yours, his lips still curved in that teasing smirk. “Mhmm? I’m what?” There’s a playful and teasing lilt in his voice as he inches nearer, clearly enjoying how flustered you’ve become.
Before you know it, you’ve backed up until you’re nearly pressed against the edge of his desk; close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and it’s impossible to think straight. Your pulse feels like it’s pounding in your ears. Especially as he leans in even further, the distance between you shrinking until it’s nearly nonexistent.
His breath is warm against your skin as he adds, “Come on, I’m waiting. You were so curious before. For someone so chatty, you have gone awfully quiet. Why’s that?”
Your mind is a whirlwind of thoughts, but the only thing you can focus on is how close he is, how those deep brown eyes are watching your every reaction, and how his lips look infuriatingly soft. Finally, you manage to stammer out a broken, barely coherent, “You’re… more than cute.”
Fox chuckles as he straightens slightly, clearly pleased with your reaction. “Good answer.”
You let out a nervous chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair, thinking this is the end of it. But he barely budges before asking, “Do you want to know what I think about you?”
Breath shaky, you avoid his eyes. “Let me guess… annoying… too talkative…”
“Distracting,” he cuts you off.
Before you can respond, his hands lift, gently cupping your face. You’re caught off guard as his thumbs brush tenderly over your cheeks. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the unexpected warmth of his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean into it. His presence is all-consuming, his closeness dizzying as his nose lightly brushes against yours, sending sparks dancing down your spine.
His voice is low, rich with a sincerity that makes your heart race even faster. “I find you distracting. Beautiful and distracting.”
Before you can fully process his words, his lips capture yours in a kiss that’s impossibly gentle and utterly intoxicating.
It’s slow and unhurried, his lips moving against yours in a way that feels both tender and deliberate. Your eyes widen in surprise at first, hands raised but unsure where to place them.
Fox was kissing you. the Commander Fox was kissing you. You didn’t even know what this meant fully. Had he been harbouring feelings for you after all this time?
The initial shock soon melts away, your body relaxing into the kiss as your arms instinctively wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. The feeling of the warmth of his mouth on yours, the soft press of his lips sending a sweet sent an addictive thrill through your veins. He’s steady and confident, guiding the kiss with a gentleness.
His hands remain on your face, anchoring you to the moment until one slides back to cradle the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair that makes you gasp against his lips.
You can’t help but chase after his lips, the slow and tender rhythm of the kiss drawing you in deeper. He’s all you can think about—the taste of him, the feel of him, the way he’s holding you as though you’re something precious.
Fox finally pulls back just enough to look at you, his forehead resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. His eyes, those deep, mesmerising brown orbs, search yours as if he’s looking for something—confirmation, maybe, or understanding. You’re not sure, but whatever he sees in your gaze seems to settle something inside him.
His thumb sweeps over your cheek again, a soft, almost absent-minded caress as he holds you there, still so close. “You have no idea how distracting you are,” he murmurs, his voice hushed.
You’re left breathless, your heart racing in your chest as you blink up at him, dazed by it all. “You… you kissed me,” you whisper, your body still flushed against his as you try to piece things together.
“I did,” he replies softly, his hands now moving to rest on your waist, grounding you in the moment. “Is it okay that I did?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess it’s just… I thought you didn’t like me.” You pull back slightly, leaning against the desk this time. He looks down at you, his gaze unexpectedly soft.
“I’ll admit I haven’t been the kindest to you,” he says, a touch of regret in his tone. “The lads gave me an earful the other day.”
“So, was it a guilt kind of kiss or…?” you mumble, sincerely hoping it wasn’t.
Fox’s eyes widen slightly, and he quickly shakes his head. “No, it’s nothing like that,” he exclaims, his voice firm but gentle. “I’m not great at showing how I feel, and hearing you call me ‘cute’… it pushed me in the right direction. Made me realise I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t care.”
His sincerity catches you off guard. “Oh,” you say, your voice small but relieved.
He offers you a small smile, the kind that’s rare for him, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “So, would you consider going for drinks with me tonight?” he asks, his tone hopeful but tinged with the same guardedness that’s always been there.
The hesitation in his voice makes you understand how much this moment means to him, and you can’t help but smile back with a genuine, warm smile. “Yeah, I’d like that,” you reply softly.
Fox’s shoulders visibly relax, the tension you hadn’t even noticed finally easing as he nods. “Good,” he says, his voice low and a little rough around the edges. But there’s a warmth there now, something new that you hadn’t had the pleasure of seeing before. “I, uh, have to get back to the Chancellor. I knew the others wouldn’t be here today, and I know your routine, so I figured I’d have time to speak to you before heading back.”
You raise an eyebrow in surprise. “So, you’re not supposed to be here?”
“No, I’m not,” he admits with a somewhat sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “I may or may not have told the Chancellor I had an important matter to tend to.”
You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you did that.”
Fox joins in with a chuckle, the sound rich and surprisingly pleasant, before he takes a final step toward you and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “It was worth it,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin.
Your heart skips a beat as he pulls back, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment longer. “I’ll see you tonight?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty in his tone.
“Definitely.”
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The Caged Bird & The Leashed Dog
Sandor Clegane x reader
+:✿ Chapter - 13 ✿:+ What is Loyalty?
Chapter Index | next chapter
Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.
CW: MDNI, SMUT, NSFW themes, Sandor “my wife” Clegane, Unprotected P in V sex, Oral sex (Fem rec), multiple reader orgasms, insecure reader, misogyny, angst, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage,
A/N: We're back at it again. A longer chapter for the come back lol
Word Count: 8.2K
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Sandor was part of Jon Snow’s party as they traveled through the lands beyond the wall on their mission to capture a wight. The party walked many many miles. Sandor contemplated what he was doing, he hated the extreme cold, but he reminded himself he was doing it for you.
As he stopped to retie his boot, a tall, but much shorter than Sandor, red haired man approached him.
“You’re the one they call the dog!” The man shouted as he approached Sandor.
Sandor finished tying his boot, “Fuck off.” He huffed casually as he continued on.
The attitude did not deter the man as he followed Sandor, “They told me you were mean. Were you born mean or you just hate Wildlings?”
“Don’t give two shits about Wildlings. Gingers I hate.” He said scowling at the red haired man.
The man amused by his words continued to talk despite Sandors obvious wishes for the conversation to end, “Gingers are beautiful, we’re kissed by fire. Just like you-“ The man said pointing a finger at Sandor's burned face.
Sandor hit the mans hand down and away from him, “Don’t point your fucking finger at me.” He barked at him.
Sandor walked away and yet somehow the man was not put off. He smiled and continued to walk alongside Sandor.
“Did you trip into the fire when you were a baby?” The man pried into Sandor's past.
“I didn’t trip, I was pushed.” Sandor huffed as he kept walking, not looking at the man.
“And ever since you’ve been mean.” The man surmised.
“Will you fuck off?” Sandor annoyingly barked at him.
“I don’t think you’re truly mean. You have sad eyes.” The man tried to understand him, it struck a chord somewhere deep within him. He remembered how you once said something like that to him a long long time ago, whispered in the night as you held onto him. It was his final straw.
Sandor stopped and scowled down at the red haired man, “You want to suck my dick is that it?”
“Dick?” The man asked, unfamiliar with the term.
“Cock.” Sandor translated.
“Oh, dick... I like it.” The man shrugged, amused by the new word he had learned.
Sandor scrunched up his face, now just confused by the entire interaction, “Bet you do.” He mocked, as he continued to walk.
The man still followed him, “No, it’s pussy for me. I have a beauty waiting for me back in Winterfell, if I ever get back there. (Y/H/C) hair…(Y/E/C) eyes…About this tall,” He gestured to your height. Sandor thought for a moment how similar his description was of you. But he was convinced it was a coincidence. “The perfect height for me. .” The man continued on, “Sharp tongued, bravest woman you’d ever seen. A high bred southern bird from a castle in the sky they say.” He said as if the memory of you was a breath of fresh air. However the description of you ran cold through Sandors body.
Sandor stopped, and turned to the man, “(Y/N) Arryn?”
“You know her?” He asked, happy to hear your name.
“You are with (Y/N) fucking Arryn?!” Sandor stepped closer, his words dripping with violent anger.
The man almost shrunk as he explained, “Well not with her yet… but I’ve seen the way she looks at me.”
Sandor scoffed, “How does she look at you?” He stepped closer to him, his words were dark and heavy, “Like she wants to carve you up and eat your liver?” His eyes narrowed onto the man.
“You do know her.” He said, narrowing his eyes back.
“Aye, I know her.” He scoffed as he kept walking, angry and jealous.
“You seen her fight?” He asked, following along with still.
“Fight?” Sandor practically spit his words at him.
“She’s a killer. I saw her take an arrow to her leg, while she bit a man's finger off, then she took that arrow, snapped it in half and stabbed that man in his eye with it.” He spoke of the violent act you committed, as if it were romantic.
Sandor shook his head and scoffed, “You’re a mad fucker you know that?” He knew now for certain you had too much good sense to be with a man like him, too much good sense to even entertain the idea.
The man continued, “It’s true. Cut through four men. Rode an entire army into battle. And fed a man to dogs.” Sandor thought of it, the last he saw of you you were a girl alone with no money, no army, no family, and the iron throne as an enemy against you. How could you have done so much, accomplished “I want to make babies with her. Think of them, they’d conquer the world!”
Sandor snapped, turning to the man and grabbing him by his fur coat, “If you say the word babies again I'll strangle you with your own guts.” He barked loudly at him.
“There will be no fighting on account of my cousin. Not while she’s resting and not while we are on this mission.” Jon said, making Sandor huff and let go of the man.
“She’s your cousin now?” The man with red hair asked. Remembering when he told you you were not his cousin when you first met.
Jon looked down, somewhat regretful of his words, “She showed great loyalty to my blood, her blood. Cousin is close enough.” He said as he continued to walk, “And I will not have any of you fight over her favor when we’ve a matter of great importance to see to.”
Sandor reluctantly continued on, angry and jealous. But now he knew where you were, and knew you were alive. That was enough for him to continue.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You lost so much in the war. Lika was your horse sense you were but a child. She was the first horse you’d learned to ride. You lost the last man who was eternally loyal to you, the last man who loved you in the way only a father could. As if that weren’t enough, your body was now littered with healing scars. A constant reminder of the price you paid.
You sat by the fire in your chamber. You wore a white chemise and wrapped yourself in a fur as you examined the scar on your thigh. Running your finger over it, going over the memory of the pain.
As you did, your chamber door opened suddenly. Making you pull your chemise down and covering your bare legs.
Sansa walked in, closing the door behind her. “You’ve not left your chambers in some time.” She said, gently.
You let your guard down, relaxing. You looked into the fire, “Resting. Rest is needed to heal.”
“You're healed.” She said bluntly, you looked at her, “Well, your leg is healed.” She replied plainly.
You sighed, you knew she was right. You had used your injury as an excuse long enough. “Time they say.” you said dispassionately, “It heals all, though I am not sure of that.” You said gloomily.
Sansa approached you, sitting beside you, “You never told me.” You looked at her confused. “The man you said you loved, that Baelish took from you.” She clarified.
You took a deep breath, looking into the fire, “Sandor Clegane.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your mouth at the sound of his name.
“The Hound.” She spoke calmly.
You shook your head slowly as you thought back to it, “I just called him Sandor.” You looked into the fire again. Sansa’s silence made you feel uneasy. You didn’t dare look at her, fearful of her reaction. You knew she and he were in Kings Landing at the same time, maybe she’d only seen the cruelty that was demanded of him. “I know many think he was cruel-”
She interrupted your words, “He clothed me once. When Joffrey ordered his men to strip me while they beat me in the throne room. He didn’t.” You looked at her, you listened to her story as warm tears began to rise in your eyes, and your nose and cheeks began to flush with heat, “He gave me his white cloak.” She placed a hand on yours, “He was kind.” She smiled softly as she spoke kindly of your beloved rather than pass any judgment. You were grateful for that.
You smiled, and sniffed your now runny nose, “Thank you.” You said as she wiped a tear from your cheek, forcing you to realize your tears had begun to fall. You breathed a laugh as you wiped them with the back of your hand. You looked down at the of yours hand that Sansa held, “I miss him.” You nodded, your smile falling, replaced with a frown, “His pain has ended, but… I am in agony.” You covered your face with your hands as you sobbed.
Sansa held you. It reminded you of when you both were in Kings Landing and the roles were reversed. You always held her when she cried, you tried your best to comfort her but it never worked. Now you understand.
You pulled away and swallowed your sobs, wiping away the rest of your tears with it. You took a deep breath.
Sansa tucked your hair behind your ear as she spoke softly, “You hide it well enough to the others.”
You huffed, tired of your emotion. “I have to have my moments of misery. If not I would throw myself from the highest tower I could find.” You let out one deep breath “You’re the only one I’d ever tell that to.”
“I understand the feeling.” She nodded,
You looked at her and focused on her experiences, “You’ve grown so much, you know. Not that you'd have any choice. Girls are beaten into women. But all the same, you’ve grown.” You forced a smile.
“In King's Landing I watched you closely. Every Time I was scared I thought of what you would have done. I learned how to carry myself from the strongest woman I know.” She smiled at you, and you smiled back, gripping tighter onto her hand. “Speaking of, I received this,” She looked down at the letters she received earlier that day.
You opened it, your brows furrowed, “An invitation to King's Landing?” You scoffed at such a ridiculous idea.
Sansa rolled her eyes in agreement, “For the both of us. For the Ladies of the North and East.” She sighed, “I know it is a part of Jon’s plan. But I can’t go back there.” She said defeatedly.
“I won’t leave you.” You said throwing the invitation into the fire you sat beside. “Send Brienne as your representative of the North. I will send Ser Leon in representation of myself.” You said confidently.
She nodded, looked down then back to you, “There is more than this. Bran and Arya have returned to Winterfell.”
You smiled, genuinely. You felt happiness for once in a very long while. Knowing Arya was safe gave you great happiness. You looked at Sansa, grinning from ear to ear. You grabbed ahold of both her hands, “I am happy for you.” You spoke earnestly.
Sansa however looked conflicted “He says he is something called the three eyed raven.”
“He sees visions?” You asked, you’d heard tales of such a thing but did not know if it were real.
“Of the past and the present, it would seem.” She explained, she looked at you with sympathetic eyes, “You should talk to him. Relieve yourself of some of those uncertainties.” You nodded.
You stood and looked out the window, you saw your men stationed in Winterfell. You felt once more the sting of responsibility. Then once more, I felt the weight of your sorrow. Conflicted with what others must have been saying. The maddened lady of grief.
“What are they saying?” You asked, you looked behind you towards Sansa, “About me?” You clarified.
“Stories of your bravery and loyalty towards your men and people have traveled far. They are calling you the relentless lady of the mountain and vale.” She smiled as she stepped towards you.
“A generous lie.” You said, still convinced otherwise.
She shook her head, “I’d not lie to you.” She said as she stepped closer, placing her hands on your shoulders, “Let’s dress you. I believe it is time you continued with your journey.”
You smiled, and nodded. You knew your duty. You knew your oath.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You walked along around the high walls of Winterfell. You looked down upon your men who had camped out front of the walls. Helping Northern houses with the preparations of the coming war. You smiled upon the Knights, you felt pride in them. You were not a northerner and yet still, you could feel the North's appreciation of your mens labors.
“You’re a woman now.” You heard from behind you. As you turned around you saw Arya. She stood taller than the last time you'd seen her. Dressed in black leather and fur.
You smiled, as you approached her, “I could say the same to you. Though you look more like a knight. It suits you.” You placed her hands on her shoulders, then ran them down to her hands.
“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded.
“I often wondered on you. How you were and what you were doing.” You spoke softly as your eyes took her in. Still surprised by how much she’d grown since you’d last seen her.
“If I was dead?” She asked bluntly,
You stifled a laugh, “No. No, I knew you and your needle would survive. You’ve a brave heart.” You said as you looked at her sword.
“As do you.” She said as she removed her sword, handing it to you. You took it in hand and examined it. “Only a brave heart could love a Hound.” She said as you looked at it. Your eyes darted from the blade back to her,
“Did Sansa tell you this?” You questioned her with narrow eyes.
She grinned as she shook her head, “No. He did.” You looked at her with interest as you handed her sword back to her. She put her sword back in its sheath “He took from the brotherhood. To sell me off to my mother and brother, then to aunt Lyssa. Though I suspect it was simply a ploy to get to you… I see it now.” She said as though she were proud of her observation.
You looked down, “What did he say?” You asked, almost embarrassed to ask it.
“He didn’t go on about it. Only that he failed you, and he cared for you.”
“Were you there when he died?”
Her ever present grin faded, “I left him there.”
You looked down, “It has taken a lot within me to hold my own bias aside. I understand he could be… abrasive. Hard for others to understand.”
Arya felt herself feel a slight tinge of guilt, “He fought for me harder than I’d ever seen anyone fight.” She said, attempting to comfort you, “I didn’t like him. But I can respect that.” She nodded, you smiled softly.
“You cannot tell anyone.” You commanded but it was practically a plea as you held onto her hand.
“I won’t.” She shook her head.
“I am so happy to see you.” You said with a smile, finally taking in the fact she was here.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Later in the courtyard you found Bran under the tree. You remembered what Sansa had said to you. You decided to see for yourself.
“Bran,” You announced your presence as you walked closer to him.
Bran looked over to you, “Cousin.” he stated stoically.
You smiled at him, “How you’ve grown. You’re a man now.”
“Almost.” He stated, again without emotion.
You sighed uncomfortably. Unsure of how or if you could comfort him. So you decided not to. “Sansa tells me you called yourself the three eyed raven.”
“I am.” He stated confidently.
You sat beside him, you smiled as you recounted a memory “I’d only heard stories of it, when I was a child. The ladies would tell me of it. Threaten that the three eyed raven would know if I were lying.” You looked at Bran,
“I would.” He stated plainly.
Your eyes narrowed in curiosity “Prove it.” you nearly whispered,
You looked upon you for a moment, “You were with child. Once.” Your blood ran cold. You stared at him with shocked and horrified eyes. “Forced to drink a tea to end it. You wore a blue velvet robe, it had silver flowers embroidered on the sleeves.” He spoke emotionlessly.
“I was?” You asked, your voice wavered as you ignored the rest of his statement. You need not hear anything more.
He nodded slowly “You were.”
You swallowed any emotion that rose. “Thank you.” You nodded. Now fully convinced in his ability, you knew what you had to ask him. “I need to know of my father.”
He looked at you, as if he was surprised you asked. “Littlefinger conspired with your aunt Lyssa to poison and kill your father. But you already knew that.”
You let out a huff, fighting tears, “I did.” you said softly.
“I’m sorry for what's happened to you.” He said earnestly,
“As I am for you.” You said mournfully.
He shook his head, “Don’t be. Or I’d not be what I am now.” You looked at him with concern, and confusion. But you soon understood what he meant.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Sandor and Jon’s mission was a success. However it did have its losses. Daenerys Had lost a dragon and Sandor had lost Thoros. It was hard but they captured the Wright as intended.
Sandor traveled with Jon to be sure his mission was completed and your cousin arrived safely. Soon enough he would be returning to Winterfell.
At the front of the ship Jon and Tyrion stood as they looked upon Kings Landing approaching in the distance.
“How many people live there?” Jon Asked,
“A million give or take.” Tyrion stated coldly.
“That’s more people than the entire North, crammed into that. Who would want to live that way?” Jon asked in disbelief.
“There's more work in the city. And the brothels are far superior.” Tyrion said as he scanned the other ships that had arrived for the meeting. He saw an Arryn ship in the distance. “I see Littlefinger has arrived.”
Jon shook his head, “That ship sails for Lady Arryn.” Tyrion's uncaring demeanor dropped, “The colors are inverted, it’s her claims support.” Jon stated.
“So the stories were true?” Tyrion takes a step closer to the edge of the ship to get a better look.
“Aye.” Jon said, he looked at Tyrion looking off at your ship longingly “You were betrothed to each other?” He asked, uncomfortably.
“We were.” Tyrion stated stoically,
“You loved her?” Jon questioned.
“Might have.” Tyrion said, though he knew he did.
Jon huffed, “You and the rest of the men on this ship it would seem.”
Tyrion, not knowing what he meant, looked behind him at Tormund and Sandor who looked off at your ship longing just as he was. Though all three would be equally disappointed to find out you sent a Knight to represent you rather than appear yourself.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
When in KingsLanding Sandor was in charge of transporting the Wright.
A Lannister Guard approached Sandor,
“What's in there?” The Guard questioned,
Sandor looked back at the man, surprised someone was questioning him, “Fuck off.” He said annoyingly.
Sandor then saw a tall blonde woman, the very one that almost killed him.
Brienne approached him as they walked,
“Thought you were dead.” She stated bluntly,
“Not yet. You came pretty close.” He acknowledged her ability.
“I was only trying to protect her.” Brienne tried to defend herself.
“You and me both.” Sandor sighed,
“She’s alive.” Brienne said, Sandor looking at her in surprise, “Arya.”
“Where?” He asked looking ahead, pretending not to care.
“Winterfell.”
“Who’s protecting her if you're here?” He questioned,
“The only one who needs protecting is the one that gets in her way.” She said with a smirk, shared by Sandor at the thought. Brienne then looked at Sandor once again, “As the same goes with Lady (Y/N).” He looked at her with surprise, “She’s scowled at me ever since she heard I killed you. I assumed it meant something, but I was right.” She sighed.
Sandor looked away trying to remain composed, “She alright?” He questioned,
“No. Though you don’t get names like (Y/N), the brave, the unrelenting, the unconquerable, or the Inured without suffering a great deal.” Brienne said, Sandor felt guilt wash over him again,
“What happened?” Sandor asked, still looking ahead.
“You’ll have to ask her.” Breinne said, knowing that soon he and you would meet again.
Sandor looked at her once more and smiled.
That was until the Lannister guards approached Sandor and the Box the Wright remained in.
“Anyone touches it, I’ll kill you first.”
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
You looked out of your chamber window to see Jon Snow and his armies returning. You tried to look for Ser Leon through a voice behind you interrupted your attempt to do so.
“My Lady,” You turned around to see another knight of the Vale, you smiled and nodded for him to continue, “I am to announce the arrival of Jon Snow and Daenerys Stormborn.” He said,
“Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked, knowing she’d not be happy with the arrival of an outsider.
“Already waiting at the gates, my Lady.” He said,
“We shall join her.” You said as you continued on through the door, on your way to join your cousin.
The Knight nodded, “Yes, my Lady.” He said as he followed you.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・
You saw Sansa alongside Bran waiting at the Gates. You approached her,
“You don’t look happy.” You said as you locked your arm around hers.
She smiled slightly at you, “Neither do you.”
You shrugged, “I am hard to please, I suppose.” You looked out at the crowds of men entering Winterfell, “But your brother has returned with a large army for your people. That should please you.” You said as you rubbed her arm with your hand.
She sighed, “He returned with a new Queen, one I don’t know and do not trust. One who wishes to rule this very Kingdom.” She scoffed.
You shrugged again, “Yes, well I suppose that is problematic.” You said as two large dragons flew overhead.
You’d never seen anything so large and magnificent take to the sky. You smiled as you watched the three dragons fly with one another through the sky.
“Hard to please?” Sansa said looking at how taken you were by the sight.
“I’ve never seen one before, much less two. You must admit it is extraordinary.” You said without looking at her, still looking at the dragons in the sky. You finally looked at her, “A little.” you shrugged,
“A clear presentation of her power.” She said irritated.
“Well… If you got it…” You attempted to reason but she gave you a scowl that made you stop. “Apologies.” You said. As you saw your cousin ride into Winterfell, you felt it was not your place to welcome an outsider into Winterfell. Especially since you yourself were outside. “I’ll leave you to make a proper introduction.” You smiled at her, trying to get her to lighten up.
As you walked back into the castle you heard a familiar voice speak,
“(Y/N)?” Tyrion spoke, “Or, do you prefer Lady of the Vale, now?” He breathed a chuckle but he was fighting back heartbreaking emotion.��
You felt the guilt you felt long ago surge again, “Tyrion. Or do you prefer Hand of the Queen?” You jested in return.
He took a step towards you, “It would seem you are acting as hand to the Queen of the north said by some.”
You shook your head, “We are kin… we are close. But that is all.”
“Two women betrothed to me who ran away.” He jested, self deprecatingly.
“Don’t feel too bad about it. We both suffered for it.” You said earnestly.
He shook his head, “I did not want you to suffer. I never did.”
“I know. I did suffer though. I still am.” You said quietly.
“You don’t have to. You don’t have to stay here.” He said walking closer to you.
“Where would I go?” You asked, as if his idea were ridiculous. His eyes however told a different story. You could see the emotion, the longing, “No.” You said recoiling from him.
He followed you, “I have loved you since I first saw you.” He pleaded
“Please don’t.” You winced at the word ‘love’.
He grabbed your hand, “I have to know where you went, and why.”
You huffed, not wanting to do this. Not wanting to have this conversation. But knowing that the truth would hurt him, it would also set him free. “I left with Sandor Clegane. He took me with the intention of delivering me to my aunt Catelyn Stark.” You said bluntly.
“Why would he take you?”
“You know why.” You said with furrowed brows, he then looked down, you could see the pain that he felt wash over his face. You sighed “I’m sorry. I am, I tried to love you in the way you wanted, the way that was demanded of me by duty and I couldn’t. I have no doubt that you would have been a doubting and loyal husband. And maybe if we were married I would have found peace. But when he asked me to leave with him I couldn’t help it, I loved him. I never felt that way for anyone.” You walked towards him once more, “You were a dear friend to me.” You held his hand, “Very dear, you gave me consideration no else did.”
“I would have given you everything- anything.” You couldn’t tell if he was angry or sad. Perhaps both.
“I can get it myself.” You said. Never willing to ever use your hand as a bargaining chip for land or armies again.
“That is your way, I suppose. The reason I-“
You interrupted him before he could say he loved you once more, “You wouldn’t want me. You wouldn’t, not really. I am pigheaded and my ambitions are large. We would argue all the time, every time we spoke in Kings Landing it was a debate. Neither of us would be happy.” You blurted out. Just wishing he would see it your way.
“Anything more?” He asked pained,
“No.” You said. He began to walk away, “Except that-” You called out, making him turn around towards you. He nodded wanting to hear what you had to say. You took a breath, “With him gone, Tyrion… I do not believe I will ever wed. Ever find love truly. I don’t believe I will ever carry a child in me, and I don’t believe I will ever be happy.” You shook your head.
He smiled, though clearly upset. “I think you are very wrong about that. I think you will see that very soon. And I will watch.” His smile faded and he walked away.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
Later that day Podrick walked with you on the high walls of Winterfell. You and he were tasked by Lady Sansa to take further inventory of the new armies for the coming war. As you walked along the wall you heard a loud Caw! Of a Falcon. You looked to the sky and saw Lenaera. You grabbed an armored glove that laid against other supplies by the wall. She landed on your gloved hand. She fluttered her wings happily and you smiled as you pet her feathers on her head.
By chance you peered down at the courtyard to see a tall and large man staring at you. A man who thought was dead.
“Podrick?” You said, your eyes wide.
“Yes, my Lady?” Podrick asked,
“Am I dead?” You asked sincerely,
“N-no, My Lady.” Podrick responded concernedly
“Dreaming?” You asked again, bluntly.
“No, My Lady.” Podrick again responded with concern,
“You told me the Hound was dead.” You said, Podrick looked down to where you looked and saw the man standing there. Soon his eyes went wide as well.
“I thought he was.” He said shocked.
“Take Laenera.” You said placing her on his arm.
“Yes, my Lady-” He said before Lenaera’s talons dug into his leather sleeves, “Ah!” He hissed as you dropped the glove and ran into the castle.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈
You gathered your skirts up as you made hast down the stairs within the castle. As you were running down the hall, you saw a tall and large man running down the same hall from the opposite end. You both stopped at the same time, as if the sight of the other paralyzed the other. You felt like you were looking at a ghost of the man you loved. Your hands released your skirts as you let out a sharp and painful breath.
He stared at you, his eyes filled with emotion, “That fucking birds yours?”
You didn’t respond, still in shock by the man before you. Sandors demeanor calmed, became more earnest, “I heard you were here. Didn’t want to let myself believe it. ‘Case it were horse shit.” He said taking some steps towards you, though he stopped when he saw the tears in your eyes well.
You let out another curt breathe as you held in your tears, a wave of emotion crashed against your form as you heard his voice for the first time in so long. “I heard you were dead.” You said walking closer to him, “I thought you were dead.” A tear fell from your eye, stepping closer “I believed you were dead.” You stopped, your emotion taking hold of you, “You were dead, I-I-” You shook your head unable to understand.
Sandor stepped towards you, closing the space that remained, “I’m not.” He held your face in his hands, you noticed they were rougher than before. “I’m here.” He said gentler than you were used to. You placed your hands on top of his that held your face. “I’m not leaving.” He continued to comfort you.
It took you a moment to realize you were somewhat out in the open. Any Lady or Lord could walk down the hall the two of you stood there. You weren’t used to that. Being in the open with your affection. He would sneak into your chambers in the early hours of the morn or the late hours of the night. Never this. But, there were no more Lannisters, no more Littlefinger, no more Bolton, there was no other person or house that would threaten your status or standing. No one to hold your virtue over your head. So, you did not care.
“You needed me.” He said assertively as if he were angry with himself.
He wiped the tear from your cheek with his thumb, You blinked hard. Swallowing your emotions and taking a breath. Grounding yourself. You nodded, “I did. But I had myself.” You placed a hand on his cheek, “But, I still need you.” You nearly whispered, You looked around for a moment, the hall was still empty but for how long? You looked to your side and noticed you and he were coincidently standing beside the door to your chambers. You held onto his wrist with one of your hands, you pulled him along. “Come inside and be alone with me.” You said in a quiet voice what some might think of a seductive voice.
As you entered your chambers, he closed your door, “Lock it.” You said not realizing how bold it seemed, “Many forget to knock on my door.” You explained as you took a pitcher of water from a table by your door, walking over to the fireplace and extinguishing the fire, to make him more comfortable.
“I can make sure they don’t forget.” He said with a possessive and protective tone.
You missed it, you hadn’t heard it in so long. You walked with haste towards him, throwing your arms around his broad shoulders. He in return, wrapped his thick arms around you. He lifted you up as your lips met.
They met for the first time in so long. Your lips, as well as his, were cold from the northern air. But the heat from his tongue warmed you.
“Are you staying?” You asked breathlessly as you pulled away from his kiss. You searched his eyes, with your own. You missed his gaze dearly.
He nodded, breathless, “With you.” He said, putting you down, “I’ll go where you go.” He vowed.
“I’ve never seen you without armor.” You smiled looking over him as your hands ran over the leather top he wore.
“You have.” He said candidly
Your gazes blinked up to his, “I mean… real clothing.” You said holding back a laugh, “You look handsome.” You said earnestly.
“Fuck off.” He said dismissively, looking away from you, assuming you were lying.
You placed a hand on his scarred cheek. Redirecting his gaze back towards you. His eyes looked into yours seeing that you were honest “I missed you.” You said almost dreamily with an absent minded smile as you gazed upon the face you thought you’d never see again. Your smile faded a bit, you shook your head, “I can’t begin to… explain how terrible it was.”
He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked down. “I know.” He was disappointed in himself, “I thought of you.” He said looking back into your eyes, “A lot.” He admitted.
As you gazed into his soft eyes, you knew he should know. He should know about the babe. He should know the things LittleFinger did. The kiss he forced on you. He should know of Ramsay, he should know of your journey. “There’s things I should tell you.” You said almost shamefully.
Sandors eyes hardened, “You fuck that ginger?” He questioned,
“Gods no!” You said with disgust, you answered quickly, surprised by the question. “His attempts at wooing me have grown constant and boring.” You rolled your eyes, then settled your gaze on him once again “I’d only ever thought of one man.” Your tone is softer.
“He said he wants make fucking babies with you.” He sneered, not angry at you but at the man. He loved you like he loved no one, and he knew he was not the only one.
“You sound jealous.” You said teasingly.
“I am.” He said with a snarl.
“You needn’t be.” You said in a whisper into his lips as you kissed him again. “Let me look at you.” You said running your hands from his face, down to his chest, “you’ve let your beard go.” You said in a melancholy tone.
All the time that had passed truly had gotten away from Sandor. It was then that the emotion hit him. Sandor dropped to his knees. Placed his hands against the small of you back, pushing you forward as he rested his head against your belly.
he was desperate,
you’d never seen him like this. You held his head in your hands, running your fingers through his hair.
“It’s alright.” You whispered, you understood how he was feeling. Feeling that he failed you.
“It’s not.” he whispered back.
“We can start again.” You said as you petted his hair, “We could be together, truly, never hiding.” You said like you were dreaming of it right then and there.
He hummed against your stomach, “I’m not a man of honor.” He said as though he were shameful of himself.
“Men of honor die all the same, I’d rather be with you.” You spoke softly as your hands sweetly ran through his hair, and your other rubbed circles against his back, “Do you not wish for me to be your wife?” You asked, scared for the answer, but needing it all the same.
He shook his head, “I wish it for me, not for you.”
You shook your head and huffed, “Look at us. this isn’t wrong. how could something that feels so good be wrong? You are no longer a piece on a board in Kings Landing. Nor am I. I don’t know about you but I refuse to be one again. Let me be yours and be mine.” You felt silly for opening yourself up like this, in a way you’d never had before. But it was something you had to do. You couldn’t allow for the same cycle you and he fell into King's Landing to continue. “When you were gone, I went to war and felt no fear. No fear because if I died I would see you. I’d be with you again. I cannot go back to wishing for moments with you. I wish for a life with you because I love you and I need you. If you love me then don’t leave me again.” You pleaded softly.
He was silenced for a moment, but then, his hands traveled tighter around your back. He looked up at you, “Be my wife.” He pleaded, his love seeping through his gruff tone.
“Yes.” You said, sweetly. You let out a small gasp as you felt his rough, large hand trail up your leg, “Yes,” you whispered to him, his eyes remaining connected to yours, his hand trailed up to your inner thigh, “Yes… yes” You continued to whispered against his movements, his fingers sneaking their way under your small clothes and toying with your sex “Yes…yes…yes-“ your whispers becoming louder, more breathless and closer to a whine. You ran fingers from his hair to his scarred cheek, you carassed it as you moaned, “My husband-Ah!” you were cut off as his finger slid inside of you, forcing a moan out of you. You grasped his scarred face harder as he did so,
“Say it again.” He rasped as he pumped his fingers in and out of your cunt.
You caught your breath as he hiked your skirts up and over his head, You could feel his beard scratching at your inner thighs, “My husban-nnnd” your voice hitched and drawn out into a moan as you felt his breathe graze across your cunt, soon feeling the heat of his tongue as it lapped up your sweetness. He sucked on your clit as his fingers found your sweet spot, pushing against your velvet walls. It had been so long since you felt someone know your body so well, and he didn't forget a thing about it. You felt the tightness in your belly finally release. As you reached your peak you cried out. Sandor drank you in groaning and fucking his fingers even deeper into you. “Sandor,” you whined, “I need, I need more.” You said with furrowed brows as you gripped onto his head beneath your skirts.
As he stood, his mouth crashed into yours. You could taste your own release on his lips. His kiss was desperate, and passionate. Making up for all the times he wished he could have done it. His hands roamed your body erratically and roughly.
He began to kiss down your jaw and neck, “I’ve missed your tongue.” you said breathlessly with a smirk and heavy eyes.
He licked up from your neck to your ear, making you moan. “Let me see you.” He spoke in your ear as he untied the back of your dress, though his large hands could hardly figure out the fragile ties.
You felt a sting of insecurity.
You looked down, as your hands aided Sandor in untying your gown. He continued to kiss and lick at your body slowly as more and more of your skin was revealed. Until you were left in your small clothes. Your scars showed, the one on your thigh, the one on your forearm, and even others that had come with time and war. Sandors eyes trailed over you, longingly.
“You don’t have to look.” You said as you looked down, somewhat ashamed of the scars you had earned valiantly. “I know I hurt to look at.”
Sandor stepped towards you, his eyes confused and bewildered. “Fuck are you on about? Feel me.” He said with furrowed brows. You looked confused for a moment until your hand trailed down from his stomach to his mounting bulge, he let out a groan. He hadn’t felt your touch in so long, and you hadn’t felt a man's body in so long, or wanted to. Your eyes snapped from his hardening, hot, and throbbing bulge that your hand caressed, to his gaze. Deeply lustful and full of longing. “Does that feel like you hurt to look at.” He asked as his hand grasped your jaw. His lips connected to your own, his facial hair tickled in a familiar and delightful way. As your mouths danced together you felt his tongue aching for the warmth of yours. To which you happily complied. You could taste yourself on his tongue, it made you all the more wet. As you did he pulled off your small clothes, practically ripping them off.
He stood there looking at your naked body, he let out a groan and you rubbed his hardened cock through his pants again.
“You’re not a woman, take your own clothes off.” You said assertively as you brushed past him laying down on your bed. He let out a dry chuckle as he obeyed your command.
You laid on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him. You bent one of your legs bringing your knee close to your chest as you pressed your slick thighs together.
He climbed on top of you. Kissing you once more. Passionately, slowly. Taking in the pleasure of your soft and plush lips, relishing in the taste that he missed so deeply. His tongue met yours in tandem as his hands ran over your body erratically. As if he couldn’t believe you were underneath him again, he didn’t know where to start with you but he knew how much he wanted all of it. His attention was soon directed to your breasts. He’d missed them dearly. Thought of them as he worked himself in the late hours of the night.
He slid down and took them in his mouth. Sucking at your breasts, biting them in just the way you liked. As he did you wrapped your legs around his hard back, and rocked your hips against his hard stomach, attempting to soothe the growing ache in your core.
The sounds of your moans created made him even harder than could bare “I can’t wait anymore, I want my woman. My wife.” His voice was dark and deep.
You nodded as he kissed your lips,
You kissed passionately, your lips swollen and wanting. As your lips met, and your tongues found one another again. You felt the head of his cock, already leaking, begin to press against your entrance. As he pushed in you felt the burn of the stretch. You almost forgot how large he was. You gasped and winced, Sandor stopped himself from moving for a moment, looking at you to see if you were alright.
You gripped onto his shoulder digging your nails into him, “It’s been a long time.” You explained.
He nodded as he brushed your hair out of your face, “Too fucking long.” He said, holding back a moan from the pure euphoria of your cunt.
“You haven't taken another?” You asked breathlessly, possibly not the best time.
He shook his head, and in return you held his face and kissed him deeply. “I want all of it.” You whispered into his ear.
He complied, happily. Pushing his cock into your until he was completely inside of you.
You muffled your moans into his neck as you clung onto his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his back. “Fuck!” He barked, “Gods you’re tight, does it hurt?” He asked.
It did, it burned, and you were almost overwhelmed. But Gods, it was perfect. You needed it, badly.
“Husband,” You pleaded into his lips, the words made his cock twitch inside of you, “fuck me.” You whined as you kissed him deeply.
As he thrusted in and out of you with the built up lust and longing he had inside of him. You bit down on his lip as he moaned out. You threw your head back, unable to hold in your moans any longer.
He took pleasure in thrusting in you harder to hear you cry out even louder. “Fuck! I missed your cunt, your sweet fucking cunt!” He grunted, he felt you clench around him harder and harder, “Give it to me!” He groaned, “I want my wife to cum.” He grunted through gritted teeth.
“Yes!” You pleaded as his pace only became more and more furious and erratic, “Ah!” You shouted as you felt yourself release a second time,
“That’s it-” He groaned as he felt your release cover his cock, making it only easier for his cock to slip in and out with ease. It made your cunt even more euphoric, he could hold himself in any longer,
“I want it inside of me,” You begged breathlessly,
“Good.” He groaned against your skin, “Cause I want to fill my wife with my seed.” He said through gritted teeth.
You kissed him deeply as he did just that. He moaned into your mouth as he spilled his hot seed inside of you deeply. Driving you towards another release you didn’t know was there.
After... You laid there, breathing. Trying to catch your breath. Sandor laid there with his head resting against your chest. Listening to your heartbeat. You ran your fingers through his hair.
You laid there in each other's arms for what felt like a lifetime. But you didn’t want it to end.
Soon Sandor spoke again, “That ginger cunt says you killed a man.” His voice was so gruff and deep it almost startled you after basking in the silence for so long.
“I did.” You said stoically.
“That makes two men you’ve killed.” He said as if he were proud.
“Five.” You corrected, he looked up at you from your chest, “Six if you’re counting the one from the riot.” You said petting his cheek,
“I am.” He said, he looked surprised by you.
“Six then.” You nodded, “Killed four men in the battle. Then I killed Ramsay.”
“How’d you do it?” He asked, genuinely interested.
“Ramsay? Hounds.” You smirked, noting the irony.
Sandor chuckled at it as well, “You’re different now.”
“Is that bad?” You asked, running your fingers down his back comfortingly.
“No.” He shook his head, “None of it would have happened if I was there.” He said as though he were disappointed in himself.
“I know.” You were confident it wouldn’t have. But it did, and it was no one's fault but those who committed the acts against you.
Sandor took your forearm, looked at the scar, Lyssa left you with.
“What happened?” He asked protectively, wanting to know who he’d have to kill.
You sighed, “It’ll be a hard thing to hear.” You said sitting up. You wrapped yourself in fur as you laid beside him once more, “You’ll be angry. Furious even. I know because I feel the same way. But this once, just feel the sorrow with me.” You asked him, he nodded.
And so you did. You told him your story. How you were attacked by Lyssa. How Baelish forced you to end your pregnancy. How he attempted to force himself on you. How he killed your aunt. How Ramsay tormented you. You told him of the Battle, you told him of Ser Cole. You told him everything.
Sandor was silent for just a moment. Until he sat up “I’ll kill hi-”
You interrupted his anger as you sat up with him. “No anger. Not here. Not our first night.” You pleaded as you held his face in your hand. Calming him.
He held onto your wrist, “I will take care of you.” He said earnestly, “I’ll protect you.” He vowed.
“You can’t. No one can.” You shook your head.
He looked at you. Saddened that you’d no longer believe in that promise. “I will.” He vowed.
You, still, unbelieving, nodded. You leaned towards him, and rested your forehead against his own.
You didn’t want to love him this much. And he didn’t want to love you this much. And yet here you both were. Your love was formidable, unrelenting, and merciless. There was not a thing in the known world you’d not do for him. And not a thing in this known world that he’d not do for you.
You had an army and now, you had your man. Now that all left to do was to go and get what you were owed.
꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/ed7a5f61c2716af7bf46108d1074f797/6a3373d3d5f914c4-3b/s540x810/7fe30119ad4a2548f809cceb14b7a0f6a18aebf2.webp)
NOTE: It's no use (Y/N) we gotta have it out. Also you cannot tellll me that mf wouldn’t pull out the “My Wife” card every chance he got like…. That's all. Also got I feel like I am finally free and can write smut again thank god. We are about to have our own version of the royal wedding lmao K love you, xoxo
Bambi
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#sandor clegane x reader#Sandor clegane#got x princess reader#sandor x reader#sandor the hound clegane#game of thrones x reader#sandor clegane#got x reader#got hc#game of thrones#the hound#got#sandor headcanon#sandor#sandor clegane fanfic#the hound fanfic#sandor fluff#sandor fanfic#sandor clegane smut#sandor clegane fic#sandor clegane x you#sandor clegane fluff#sandor fic#game of thrones fic#game of thrones fanfic#sandor clegane angst#sandor angst#sandor smut#game of thrones smut#smut
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you've picked some easter lillies !
— jason todd
! one shots ੈ♡˳
honey don't feed it, it will come back ━━━ in which working undercover alongside your ex-boyfriend feels like cruel and unusual punishment. like a feral hound—he keeps coming back into your life.
loving alone is what you make it ━━━ jason having (what he thinks is) an unrequited crush | requested
you should let me ride shotgun ━━━ in which jason todd shares in your dilemma of keeping this security arrangement professional. lines tend to blur so easily though. bodyguard!jason
you didn't see my valentine, i sent it via pantomime ━━━ could i request jason todd being jealous of dick and reader who is slightly older and he’s harboured a crush on since his robin days? AND jason todd/reader + jealousy | requested
the legend of gotham hollow ━━━ your small town is overrun with strange happenings. murders and deceit run rampant, so much so, that you're wary of trusting a single soul. superstitions have become as sacred as the holy book, delusions making up most of the townsfolk's minds. particularly that of the feared headless horseman. so when constable jason todd comes into town, impassioned to find an end to the madness, you vow to aid your mission. sleepy hollow!au
the ghost in your room ━━�� on hallows eve, jason todd undergoes his worst nightmare. death, or rather, the thin line between living and death. he's cursed to reanimate, walk the earth again—only as a malformed spirit, a mere shadow of life. a cruel fate, that he’s dead set on making enjoyable. for him, at least. ghost!jason
the beast of the unknown ━━━ there’s a known beast within the woods—the fearsome death of hope. he’s known to run amok every full moon, hunting for victims. searching for the last of their hope to steal away. how unfortunate for you to get lost in his woods tonight. eldritch!jason
baby it's cold outside ━━━ after a mission goes horribly wrong, you get snowed in at a safehouse (rickety old cabin) with jason. you're both blaming each other for the failed mission, but the discovery that there's no firewood or heating has the two of you begrudgingly sharing body heat and blankets.
christmas dreaming ━━━ when jason todd overhears your complaint about the town’s lackluster christmas trees, he takes it as a challenge. every day, he stops by your store with an update—always casual, always shrugging off your insistence that it’s unnecessary. but beneath the easy smiles and weather-worn jacket, jason is on a quiet mission. for weeks, he’s combed through forests and farms, chasing the impossible—your perfect tree. and while he won’t admit it, this isn’t just about holiday spirit. it’s purely about you—and the way your smile might make the coldest december day feel warm.
! hc's & thoughts ੈ♡˳
jason and never saying the right thing... | ...unless the helmet is on
jason owning a body shop / mechanic!jason
jason can't push you away
jason todd + scream
jason's views on domesticity (imo)
bodyguard!jason
jason + love letters | jason + post cards
jason and being shown off
jason todd is a man of action | nsfw 18+
jason is a yearner
jason mourning his youth
jason helping you control rent prices | nsfw 18+
jason's hair
jason steals your things
jason will always make your birthday special
jason loves to hear you talk
jason and getting the last word
college!jason thoughts
jason todd and control | nsfw 18+
farmer!jason | 👤ྀི 🎧ྀི 🧸ྀི 💋ྀིྀི
buying a home with jason
jason's big three and enneagram (imo)
fanart for this fic by @luffyadolover !!!!
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forever yours
pairing: haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut (lots of it), horror, graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, major character death, mentions of suicide, oral (m/f receiving), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), exhibitionism
summary: Thirst for exhilaration and a stupid dare brings you, your boyfriend Haechan, and your friends to the eerie camping grounds of Chimera - the name of a town rumored to be occupied by a number of vengeful, lurking spirits. But nothing is as it seems in this ghost town.
word count: 23k (see what had happened was…)
a/n: Halloween is gone but I just could not pass the opportunity to finally write a Haechan horror fic. as always, feedback is appreciated!
There was blood in your mouth.
A tart, pungent taste followed. Your tongue ached, crying with agony.
You pivoted around and groaned, “What the hell?”
As it turned out, the culprit was no other than Winter. And you were less than pleased to be met with the sight of your own best friend giggling in your face.
“You should have seen your face,” Winter teased, laughing to the point of tears.
You only rolled your eyes. Curse her and her stupid shenanigans. October was official and Halloween was fresh in the air and given so, she would be a constant of mischief.
Fortunately for Winter, she was your best friend. If not, you would not have hesitated to give her a very large piece of your mind.
You whined, “You made me bite my tongue.”
Your boyfriend, Haechan, snapped out of his fury-induced trance long enough to pull you close and ask wrathfully, “You’re hurt?”
“Just a little,” you admitted with a grimace. Now, it hurt to speak. You swayed on the heels of your feet to press a placating kiss to the corner of his lips and say, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m okay.”
Apologetic, Winter frowned and told you, “I’m sorry, bestie. I’m sure Haechan will kiss it better. Seeing as you were a total of two seconds from swallowing each other’s tongues and all.”
Like she was a fly, you swatted her away and sent her off snickering incessantly. Your boyfriend was most likely turned off by now, all things considered. You were about to kiss before Winter screeched, “Bug!” and effectively gave you the scare of your life.
You were in the middle of nowhere, after all. Chimera was a ghost town with a very tiny population and even fewer tourist attractions because anyone who valued their life would not dare explore the haunted hell town.
Not to mention you were in the woods. You were on creepy-crawly territory. A stupid, childish dare brought you to the wicked. Last weekend, Jaehyun instigated a game of truth or dare for old times sake, and dared you all to stay a weekend at the haunted camping site. So the story goes. Neither of you were adamant believers in ghoul tales.
At one point in his tetchiness, Haechan’s expression began to teeter between devilish and sinister, and a very gray area existed there. His dark eyes glared into the distance, although your best friend had already sauntered off in hounding of her next victim.
Very rarely did your boyfriend wind up on the suffering end of vexation, but having his time with you interrupted would never not do the trick.
Every time without fail.
Nevertheless, you couldn’t blame him, but it made your heart swell with sadness. Alas, jam-packed work schedules and even less time for yourselves, your time together nowadays was limited. You came home to each other every night, but grueling days of work meant you were often sound asleep by the time he arrived.
Sometimes, you would bring work home with you and stay up late, but Haechan would be snoring by the time you finally finished up and crawled under the sheets of your shared bed.
This put a bit of strain on not only your relationship, but your friendships. Which was part of the reason you agreed to the stupid dare in the first place.
Obviously, it still wasn’t just the two of you, but you’d make it work. You had to. Alongside your best friend, her boyfriend, Jaehyun, was here. Like hell he would send the love of his life into haunted woods without him there to protect her. As well as Ten and Yuta.
Your boyfriend was still displeased. A part of you was comforted by his protectiveness over you. Still, you wanted to soothe him before all hell broke loose. Bracing a hand on your boyfriend’s chest, you consoled, “Baby, I’m fine. I swear.”
Your lover was aflame, though the sweet sound of your voice made him soften. Only a little. He made sure you were flush against his body. “Promise?”
“I promise,” you replied, grinning from ear to ear. And sending his heart gravitating towards the moon. Then, you purred, “How about we go let off some of that steam in the cabin?”
Haechan smirked and you knew that you had your boyfriend back. “I like the way that sexy brain of yours thinks.”
Giggling, the two of you raced to the cabin.
Your new home for the weekend was a tiny wooden cabin that was surprisingly very warm and comfy. There were three in total, each surrounding a campfire area. A lake was not too far off and cleared for safe swimming. And there were a couple of trails nearby.
For an avowedly haunted campground, it was beautiful as far as you’d seen. There were vibrant wildflowers scattered everywhere and the water was crystal-fucking-clear. The sound of nature - leaves rustling in the wind and squirrels clambering up tree branches - was pleasantly therapeutic.
Now, you were thinking about morning sex with Haechan, moans masking the sounds of birds chirping.
The sight of you rushing to your cabin, nearly tripping over twigs in the process, was nothing short of comical. Though you found slight humor in your desperation, there was a rationale behind your every move. Above all, you couldn’t remember the last time you and your boyfriend had sex, and you were in need of a refresher.
The kind of refresher only good dick and loving could give you.
Haechan very nearly kicked in the door. You let out a cry of surprise when he jerked it back in place with his toe and flung you against the surface, kissing you none too gently.
You lingered there for a long while, making out in a hot, messy battle to conquer. Your chest heaved breathlessly, moans dangling from your lips in departure as you sucked each other’s tongues with pleasure. For a second, you pulled back, bringing your lips to that sweet spot on your boyfriend’s empty neck. For now.
When he made a sharp noise and swiftly lowered you to the bed, you knew you were in for one hell of a fucking.
It went without saying that this was going to be a far cry from a typical round of love-making. Your boyfriend was going to fuck you until every inch of the forest knew his name.
At the sight of you fumbling with his pants, Haechan chuckled and gathered your hands in his, teasing, “Slow down, baby girl.”
“Fuck me,” you heaved, as if the air had suddenly gotten thicker. Your eyes begged for him to give what you desperately craved on behalf of your body. “Hyuck, please.”
Your boyfriend gave a shake of his head, donning the most taunting smile. “Not yet,” he said, chuckling. It was nothing short of delightful to hear you beg for him, but he needed to savor you. It had been too long. “Not before I get a taste.”
Not a second later, your core throbbed, obviously excited about something now. Haechan was quick on his feet and between your thighs in the time that it took you to blink. Your panties disappeared with a yank, quickly tossed into oblivion. Your body shivered in anticipation, knowing what was to come. Haechan ate you out better than anyone to date.
You got comfortable, laying sprawled and vulnerable. Your boyfriend was in a temporary trance, eyeing your glistening cunt with sheer admiration. You could feel the heat of his breath there, making you tingle with want all over.
Haechan could feel himself twitching in his pants. Fuck, you were already so damn wet. Though that was nothing new. There was something about making out with your boyfriend that could arouse you like nothing else.
Before he caved, Haechan made sure to tease, “Be careful not to scream. Your tongue will hate me.”
That made you roll your eyes, identifying your boyfriend as his usual cocky self. Though for good reason. No man had ever made you scream much like him. “Try not to make me scream. Everyone will hate us,” you quipped.
“No can do, baby. I’m a natural.”
With a shake of your head, you shook with laughter. Granted, there was a good amount of feet between each cabin, but when at your boyfriend’s mercy, you were loud enough to wake the worlds below and above.
Ever the tease, Haechan lifted his lips and kissed his way from your belly down to the vertex of your plush thighs. You made a noise, noticing he’d skipped between. He nibbled at the edges, rendering you impatient and weaker. You could only writhe and whimper, aware that you were being tested. Or toyed with, for that matter.
Then, your lover went to town, having his fill of riling you up. You shuddered, eyes closing the very second his tongue muscled in your slick folds. Every muscle in your body was taut with tension. A kind of tension only concocted over time by a lack thereof to be broken loose.
There was a catch in your breath when Haechan lapped at you without holding back. He was a creature of desire, fingernails clamped harshly into your unfurled thighs. You were already moaning, already crying his name. There was no limit on him, none on pleasure when with him. You could already sense the tension dwindling in place of a different kind; the ecstatic variety.
Though you had been inclined to watch the view, your head angled back in a soft sigh, flush against the pillows. It was a talent how effortlessly Haechan could dismantle you. More or less. The language of your body was indefinitely etched into his memory.
“God. Oh my fucking…,” you gasped, sentence interrupted by an ensuing moan. This was only the beginning and yet already you were undone.
Haechan tasted your arousal on the very tip of his tongue and let out an unrestrained, beast-like growl of pleasure. In your mind, it almost seemed fitting. He lapped at you like a ravenous creature. But in his mind, you were the one to blame. You always had to taste so damn sweet.
You fisted locks of his hair in your fingers, back arching when he targeted your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your body was aflame, and you could feel the blood pumping through your veins hotly. “Don’t stop. Baby, please don’t stop,” you choked, promptly reduced to whimpers of pleasure. And cries of your lover’s name.
A vortex of pleasure consumed you, tossing you unceremoniously around the eye. Your thighs and toes tingled, a sign that your entire body was very much awake and alert. It came to life at Haechan’s touch, turned on at the way his tongue pivoted on your clit and penetrated your tight hole. There were sparks broiling under your skin, ignited everywhere.
Haechan slid two fingers inside your pulsing cunt and your eyes promptly rolled to the back of your skull.
For whatever reason, he was grinning from ear to ear. This was far from his first rodeo, and after years of this relationship, he had the once-mystery of your mind and body completely unraveled. No matter how much you tried to writhe away, overstimulated by the pleasure, there was no such thing as escape.
He liked watching you squirm as if you had anywhere to flee, bracing his palms on your naked thighs. He liked watching you involuntarily arch your back and rock your hips into his mouth with greed, your systems entering shutdown. Even more, he liked that he made so much of a mess of you that you could hardly seem to tell what you wanted anymore, but the arousal dripping from your cunt was a telltale sign of desire.
Just like magic, weeks of stress were long-forgotten. Haechan singlehandedly set you at ease and riled you up all the while. Tears of pleasure welled in your eyes and you clamped tightly around his fingers.
You never knew pleasure of this capacity existed before your boyfriend. He brought you to a different sphere and back, took you higher than you’d ever been. Darn the world. Your boyfriend showed you the universe and made you see every star visible to your eyes. No one had ever made you feel like this.
Which was not unbeknown to Haechan. When you began to explore your sexuality together, you detailed your past sexcapades very thoroughly to him. None as sensational as those with your boyfriend. As it turned out, they all lacked one thing in common; a partner with as much devotion to your satisfaction as your own.
They treated pleasuring you like it was menial drudgery. Not Haechan. Even now, he was ignoring the way his cock twitched between his thighs, aching to be freed. Your pleasure was paramount and he would not rest until he made you come.
He wanted to be the only one you needed and proved to you every single day that you were destined to be together. And you were content with that. You wondered how on earth you’d finally been lucky enough to find a guy that loved you as much as he loved himself. There was no one else for you, you knew that in your bones. Everything felt meant to be with him.
Unshakable and intangible. You wouldn’t have it any other way. This was a boy you would die and give your soul for.
And also wanted to suck the soul out of.
“Haechan, please. Fuck. Please,” you whimpered meekly, without a shred of idea of what you were even begging for.
Though Haechan knew. You were simply so predictable to him by now. He learned to recognize when you were near, all of the glaringly obvious signs, given that you were not subtle in the slightest. With you grinding into his mouth, it was no secret you were on the verge of a sweet release.
Haechan let his fingers pull the weight and clamped his teeth into the core of your thighs, then growled, “Come on, my pretty girl. Let go for me.”
Your dear boyfriend became ruthless at light speed, devouring you whole with his tongue like he wanted to leave not even a crumb of you to remain. His fingers were double kill, strumming you to ecstasy.
Your body submitted to his commands, because of course it did. Haechan dominated you. Even if you wanted to disobey him, it was your body’s natural choice to comply. Every inch of you was owned by your lover and he had no intention of giving it back. Not that you wanted it. You took delight in handing him the reins.
You were unstill, shaken with orgasm. There was a sharp tingle, swelling up your spine and closing in all over. It was too much. Your pussy throbbed, kneading his fingers hotly and you gave one final cry of his name before your body caved in to destruction, instantly going limp.
Though you were overwhelmed, you should have known Haechan was far from finished. Never one to stop at a single orgasm, your boyfriend ate you out until you physically could not take it anymore, making you shudder with unalloyed pleasure over and over and over again.
And given how long it had been since your boyfriend’s head had been between your thighs, you weren’t necessarily complaining.
Your chest was heaving and you were clinging to whatever remained of your breath for dear life when he eased up. Your most intense orgasms were always due to a combination of your boyfriend’s relentlessness and your extreme pent-up stress or sexual frustration.
“You screamed a lot,” Haechan said, sucking your arousal off his fingers and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
You fought a tiny smirk. You always loved the way he looked with your arousal coating his plush, pink lips. Instead, you rolled your eyes and retorted through ragged breath, “Fuck you.”
Haechan casted a smug grin and didn’t hesitate to scoff, “I’m sure you want to.”
Damn it. Now you were absorbed in the thought of him fucking you within an inch of your life. “Please… I can’t wait anymore,” you begged, core still aching no matter how many times he pleasured you. He made you insatiable.
“I could never tell my pretty girl ‘no,’” Haechan crooned, inching in on you to scoop you in his sun-kissed arms. You giggled when he surprised you with a kiss. “I’ll take care of you.”
As always.
True to his word, your wonderful boyfriend began to shred himself of his clothes. With your voluntary assistance, of course. You gaped open-mouthed at the sight of his thick cock standing at attention against his stomach, lost for words and short of breath.
Never passing up the opportunity to tease you, Haechan chaffed, “Baby, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”
Heat wafted over you. Your voice was small, “Haechan…,”
“Shh. I know, baby. I know,” he whispered.
Your lover kneeled between your thighs and you spread them for him instantly. Haechan smirked at how pliant you were. He never needed to ask, because it was simply second nature for your body to bend to his every will.
He tapped his cock against your folds, asking, “How rough do you want it?”
“Break me,” you rasped without a second thought.
Haechan grinned, full of mischief.
He pushed in nice and slow, never wanting to hurt you. He lowered his head and met his lips to yours, kissing you as if it would distract you from the feeling of being slowly but surely stretched open. “Open up for me,” he hissed, pulse pumping at how tightly you gripped his cock, on the border of something vice-like.
“You’re so… so big,” you choked out, anchoring yourself in the sheets with your nails.
“Mm. Yeah?” Haechan asked, the slyest of smiles on his lips. “But you can take it. Isn’t that right, baby?”
You bobbed your head and your mouth parted, passing a soft moan.
Haechan thought you wrapped around his bare cock too good, too withering and tight. He was sure pleasure of this magnitude only lived between you and him, irreplicable. Even so quickly you were making short work of him, leaving him with shackled self-restraint and half a mind to destroy what was left of you.
You forwent the condoms roughly half a year into the relationship. Which was two and a half years ago. Though you took birth control pills and had no intention of becoming pregnant any time soon, if you were to have anyone’s baby, you knew it would only be your boyfriend’s. Thoughts of carrying his baby and raising a child together in your home plagued your mind, and you smiled from ear to ear.
Your boyfriend glanced at you through his lashes and an invisible string tugged his heart at the sight of you. “What’re you smiling about?”
“You,” you said with hesitation. “I love you. And I want to love you forever.”
“Funny thing to say to the guy that’s about to wreck you.”
You rolled your eyes. It would kill him to be serious even for a second. You added, “He’s also the love of my life.”
Haechan softened. Only a little. “I love you, too,” he whispered, touch betraying his affectionate words as his fingers found purchase at the flesh of your hips.
A grimace painted your face as Haechan sank his nails deeper and deeper.
From that point on, Haechan fucked you as if he loathed all there was about you, save for your body. He kept a brutal pace, seemingly fucking you fuller and fuller of his cock with every passing push. Over your soft moans, you could hear his hips meeting yours with a loud, resounding thwack, and your cunt gushing hotly.
Upon his death-grip, your lover’s name dangled from your tongue in dangerously sharp cries, sweet as honey and thick as tar. Your fingers scouted his biceps, desperate for some kind of anchorage. Haechan let out a dangerously low growl and you immediately tightened. For as long as you’d known him, your boyfriend had always been somewhere in the gray area between sadism and masochism.
When asked about it, he told you, “There’s no such thing as pleasure without pain, baby. A very thin line separates the two.”
As twisted as it sounded, you agreed.
The bed and your bodies performed in league to fill the void in the cabin, the former creaking with every reverberating slap of the latter meeting together.
You were unapologetically vocal, but Haechan too sang his praises when balls deep inside you. At first, you were pleasantly surprised by his unabashed responses. Most of the guys you’d been with prior would stifle anything above a throaty groan. But when your body talked to him, he spoke back even louder.
Your boyfriend never hid his affection for you. You were the reason he breathed everyday and he would let his body tell you as much.
Haechan clamped his tanned arm around your throat and you whimpered. The chokehold was tight just enough to not harm you, but still have you begging for breath. He gave you nowhere else to look but his dark eyes, gleaming darkly with lust and lust only.
He was all you could see. More specifically his eyes. Yours were locked there, unable to glance away. The only time they were out of sight was whenever your vision was peeling off at the edges by inevitable darkness.
Haechan cocked his head a little, observing his creation. You were coming apart at the seams, eyes widened and lips parted, trying to take in oxygen. “Hard enough for you, baby?”
“Harder,” you managed to croak.
Your boyfriend shook his head and laughed. Though nothing surprised him anymore. You took whatever he gave you with an insatiable kind of greed, as if there was no such thing as enough where he was involved.
Even when sated, you only kept coming back for more.
His pace was hard and unabating. A sharp cry split your lips when he bit your neck, nibbling at the flesh as he roughly fucked you into the mattress. You were unstill, a depthless well of ecstasy. Pleasure knew no boundaries. It was too greedy. It took, consumed, and it dominated.
Haechan was right. There was a thin line between pain and pleasure and you were somewhere in the middle, teetering in between.
The entire room was scorching. You soaked in the sight of sweat beading at your boyfriend’s forehead and gushed hotly around his cock, limbs locked together like a cluster of vines, hot skin on even hotter skin. Haechan’s grip on your throat slackened to hear you moan clearer when his tongue laced into you instead.
You sweltered. And were positive that you would die. What a marvelous way to die, you thought humorously. With the love of your life by your side. You would have it no other way.
Your back arched and you rocked your hips into his, desperate for more heat and friction. Only he could give it to you.
That was how Haechan could tell you were close and he brought his fingers to your wet sex, strumming your swollen bundle of nerves. He was almost there and he wanted you to finish together. You cried out his name, clasping his biceps.
“Cum. You know you want to,” Haechan hummed tauntingly.
Your legs wrapped around his hips to draw him deeper inside. There was something about being at the brink of climax that rendered your entire body weak. Every piece of you was tempted into doing whatever he desired; whatever his heart desired. You wanted to please him. More than anything, you wanted to make him proud.
Haechan clamped his hands around your throat anew and that was all it took to finish you. Your mouth opened, crying his name as you finally crossed the threshold of orgasm. The tingles returned, prickling with the warm, pumping blood through your limbs.
You gripped his cock and he came in turn, filling you to the brim with warmth with a sweet, high-pitched moan of your name.
Haechan glanced over at you. He never got enough of the look on your pretty face when you shuddered, still throbbing and milking his cock dry until he eventually stilled inside you. You heaved for breath and his eyes soaked in your whole body, barely fighting a smile as he noticed all of the bruises and marks leftover.
He never wanted to hurt you, but subconsciously, there was a part of him that found twisted pleasure. It meant you were his. He owned you, but you owned him. Every inch.
For a while, you both only laid there, smiling and laughing at each other. Then, Haechan swooped you into his arms and muttered into the crook of your neck, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
You beamed. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Haechan replied, pressing the lightest of kisses to your lips.
“No, I love you more.”
Haechan whined, “Jesus, woman. I love you more, and that’s final.”
The two of you continued to bicker as if you were teenagers in love for the very first time. It reminded you of the early stages of your relationship, stealing and prolonging time before the other had to leave by initiating an “I love you” battle.
As the years passed, you learned to savor every moment you had together. Time became scarcer by the day. It was not to be had when you were two adults with heavy workloads.
Your boss made it his mission to call you into work even on weekends. Before he died, at least. That was a couple of weeks ago and needless to say, you were not very disappointed.
“Rest in hell,” you remembered your co-worker saying. To which you quipped, “No rest for the wicked.”
Haechan crawled back into bed with you after you were both all clean and the two of you fell asleep in each other’s arms. You could hardly remember the last time you had. It was always him after you or vice versa. Never together.
This haunted campground trip would ironically prove to be a nice oasis in a busy stage of your lives, it seemed.
A shrill scream penetrated the night and you were jolted awake.
Haechan wiped at his tired eyes and his voice was thick with sleepiness, “Is that Winter screaming in terror, because of Jay, or was that Ten?”
You nudged your boyfriend. “No, that’s definitely terror. The last time I heard that sound was when Winter walked in on Yuta taking a piss.”
“They all scream like girls.”
“You scream like a girl.”
Haechan whined, “Whose side are you on?”
Laughing, you shoved the duvet off your bodies and said, “Come on. Let’s go make sure these woods aren’t actually haunted.”
“Or worse - Yuta didn’t forget to zip the bathroom door,” he quipped.
You snickered.
Your boyfriend caged you behind his body, insisting that he wanted you to flee in the presence of any actual danger, and he led you outside the cabin. A shroud of fog hung near the ground. The sky was darker than the last you’d seen, perpetually mistier.
Haechan sauntered over to Yuta with you in convey and asked, “What’s with all the raucous?”
“Winter’s idea of a spooky Halloween,” Yuta said dryly, hands at his hips.
Your eyes rose and you saw Winter pointing fingers and snickering at a dismayed Ten, hairs standing on end. You figured he must have been the latest victim of her scares.
Ten’s chest heaved as he yelled, “You are not funny!”
Winter stuck her tongue out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Damn right. I’m hi-fucking-larious.”
Jaehyun walked by, chuckling, and announced with a bag of marshmallows in clutch, “Time for s’mores.”
At the mention of s’mores, the six of you huddled together around the campfire like children at the distribution of sweet candy. Danger dissuaded none of you. Each of you were intent on treating this as a typical camping trip. Per your boyfriend’s idea, your phones were in a cardboard box in Ten and Yuta’s cabin for safekeeping, there were plenty of outdoor activities to keep you entertained, and you were going to spend the weekend bonding together.
Chimera, as wicked as it may have been, was eerily beautiful. And its nature was on another level.
“Calories,” Winter squealed rather fondly, clapping excitedly.
You soured the mood and said, “And cavities.”
Winter shot you a glare and had she not been on the other side of fire, she would have leapt over and nudged you in the elbow.
Instead, your best friend replied coolly, “Don’t worry. I packed Jay and I’s toothbrushes. I sent a reminder in the group chat, so I hope you guys didn’t forget.”
“I came extensively prepared,” Ten said, snatching a graham cracker from Jaehyun and shoving it in his mouth. Much to Winter’s amusement and Jaehyun’s chagrin. “I brought toothbrushes, books, water, ear plugs, flashlights…”
Haechan interrupted, “Ear plugs?”
Ten scoffed, “Oh, yes. You and your girlfriend and Jaehyun and Winter are notorious for going all night. I’d rather die than hear those two getting dicked down.”
“You’re just jealous,” you snapped lightheartedly.
Ten reached for a marshmallow and defended himself a little too swiftly, “Oh, honey. I get dicked down on the regular, but you guys have fun.”
Yuta leaned into your ear from the right and whispered, “And strapped down by you in his dreams.”
“I heard that,” Ten hissed.
Yuta played innocent and said, “Heard what?”
Your boyfriend heard it, too, but he only pressed a sweet kiss to the corner of your lips, rubbing it in Ten’s face.
For his comfort, the topic changed.
The treats began to cook at long last. Haechan made you a s’more, seeing as you were a camping amateur, and you merely watched with fondness twinkling in your eyes. You were so out of your mind in love with your boyfriend that even the simplest of gestures made your heart swell with warmth.
For the second s’more, Haechan guided you. You stuffed a marshmallow on the tip of a roasting stick and he held your hands in his as you held it over the fire. “Not too close. You don’t want it to catch on fire,” were his words, a certain concentration in his eyes tempting your heart to leap into the wavering flames.
Ensuing was a treat of chocolatey goodness.
Your friends were laughing and telling jokes over the campfire and somehow you became so engrossed in the conversation that you didn’t notice your third marshmallow was burning until it was too late. “I burned my marshmallow,” you announced with a frown.
Yuta had finished up with his, but out of the kindness of his heart, offered to switch. “Have mine,” he insisted.
“You’re too kind. Thank you,” you replied, appreciative.
Then, you glanced over to your boyfriend, though he was still chattering with the rest of your friends. For a second, you thought it went unnoticed, but he laced his fingers through yours without a word and that was the end.
You smiled. He was nothing like any of your past lovers. They were over-possessive and controlling, demanding your constant and undivided attention. Haechan, at worst, was a little clingy.
He never got jealous over tiny, harmless gestures. The bar was so goddamn low, but finally having a normal guy made you prone to constant comparisons. He was totally chill when you were in the company of male friends and the only time he ever got upset was when you were hurt.
Which was completely understandable. Instead of seeing you as an object to own, it represented his genuine respect and care for you.
He’s the one, you thought with a stupid smile on your face. Even your parents agreed and were already calling him their son-in-law. Most people you dated prior didn’t even make it past the front lawn of their house.
“Did you guys know that Chimera is actually named after a Greek mythical creature?” Ten asked, ever the bookworm.
Jaehyun insincerely sneered, “Nerd.”
Ten ignored him with a roll of his eyes and continued, “In Greek mythology, the Chimera were fire-breathing creatures that appeared as a lion with a goat head on its back, and a snake for a tail.”
Haechan asked curiously, “Isn’t it also genetic mutations?”
“In biology, yes,” Ten said matter-of-factly. “It refers to organisms with several different genetic complications or DNA molecules with sequences from different organisms done by laboratories.”
“Wow. What a way to take us back to high school,” Yuta teased.
You shook your head, intrigued. “No, no. I’m interested. Ten, continue.”
Ten flushed a little and his voice was quieter when he added, “Chimera also means a creature of the imagination. It’s something you dream of, but it’s a tantalizing, unattainable desire.”
Winter chimed in, “I’ve heard stories about Chimera. These woods particularly.”
“Me, too,” Jaehyun said. “The gruesome deaths, the questionable suicides. No wonder nobody wants to come out here, as beautiful as it is.”
You retorted, “Then, what does that make the six of us?”
They laughed.
“I heard a girl killed herself in these very woods,” Yuta said, voice low over the crackling sound of fire. “But rumor has it she was actually slaughtered.”
“In the early nineteen-eighties. I remember,” Ten replied, slightly unnerved.
Haechan snickered. “You weren’t even born yet.”
“I read a lot.”
That was obvious.
Winter whispered eerily, “They say that sometimes you can still hear her footsteps dragging across the dirt, lurking in the night’s darkness.”
Perfectly on cue, there was an eerie sound from the woods and you couldn’t convince yourself that you were the only one to hear it because each of your heads whipped around all at once. Haechan instinctively coiled an arm around you, prepared to protect you even against the soul of a girl that killed herself forty years ago if he could.
Or maybe she really didn’t commit suicide. Maybe her killer painted her death as a suicide and now she was seeking revenge on humankind for not seizing the murderer.
You immediately scolded yourself for being so silly. There was no such thing as ghosts or monsters. You believed in one evil and it was the human race. It’s probably just a squirrel or something, you reassured yourself. A squirrel with painfully inconvenient timing.
Glancing between your boyfriend, Jaehyun, Ten, and Yuta, you said, “And what the hell are the four of you sitting around for? You’re the men! Go investigate.”
Ten was purely dismayed by the mere thought. “And because I’m a man I should be sacrificed to the devil? Absolutely not. This is how people die in horror movies. They go around poking their nose into places they have no business when they should be running for their lives.”
“Let’s go together,” Haechan said, throwing you all assertive glances.
There was some reluctance, but you all begrudgingly agreed. As they say, no man left behind. Haechan still kept you flush to his chest, as did Jaehyun with Winter. He had his burly arms coiled above her hips.
“There’s no girl in the woods,” Yuta murmured under his breath. But you heard him through the thick, strained silence.
Jaehyun quipped, “Who knows. Maybe there’s one for you and you’ll stop showing my girlfriend your penis.”
Yuta retorted, “She’s the one that walks in on me. Maybe your girlfriend wants to see my penis.”
“Please be quiet,” Winter whined.
Jaehyun, on a mission to be the world’s greatest boyfriend (and a few places behind, in your biased opinion), silenced himself on command and tightened his clasp below her ribs. He wasn’t all too convinced that there was a ghost in the woods, but he wanted to ease her. It was far more likely that you were all overthinking the sound of some animal minding its business.
Your boyfriend had the exact same idea and held you even tighter. Whenever in the face of danger, his first instinct was - and would always be - to protect you. Only over his dead body would he allow harm to come your way.
But even in his soothing embrace there was still a sinister energy that plagued you, alerting you that there was something amiss here. Fog blurred your vision and darkness wore at it, making it difficult to see clearly.
Ten was prepared as always and turned on one of those flashlights he had mentioned earlier. He handed it to your boyfriend, the one currently leading your pack of six.
Ever courageous, he led each of you through the night’s wilderness, your pulse thumping in your body the entire time. For whatever reason, the fear in you was unshakable. You had no clue where it emerged from, but it completely unnerved you.
A sound of twigs snapping stunned you all and Haechan shone the light at a tree where the noise seemed to come from, just quick enough to see a squirrel scurrying up a tree trunk. As far as any of you could tell, it was the same tree the first noise sounded from. Haechan assuringly declared, “It was just a squirrel.”
Your breaths came easier. Exactly what you suspected, but it would never hurt to be one-hundred percent sure. Though even with that burden off your shoulders, unease still penetrated you.
Jaehyun, Yuta, and your boyfriend seemed fearless, while Ten and Winter were relieved that they’d been frightened over nothing. But you were still not entirely convinced.
Was it only you?
The rumors and spooky stories are getting to my head. That’s all, you consoled yourself. You’re in apparently haunted woods. Woods alone are scary enough, haunted or not. And this is your first time. Fear is natural.
Each of you turned around and headed back to the campfire you hadn’t dared strayed too far from and sensing your unease from a mile away, Haechan pressed a kiss to your cheek. “Don’t be scared, baby girl. If any monster pops out, it will have to get through me before it hurts you,” he whispered softly in your ears.
“I don’t want you to get hurt, either,” you huffed, voice muffled as you put your head in your boyfriend’s chest.
“Don’t worry about me,” he told you sweetly. “I’ve been told I resemble a bear. The worst-case scenario is one attacks the trashcan and I have to communicate with it to discourage it.”
“And what if it’s a wolf?”
Haechan tightened his hold on you, purring, “Well, I’ve also been told I’m big and bad.”
You snickered. Leave it to your wonderful boyfriend to melt your worries away with his equally brilliant humor. He made you forget why you had even been so scared in the first place, all by kissing you and making you laugh.
The six of you decided you’d had your fill of spooky stories for one night and retired to your cabins for bed. You heard more than a couple of noises from the cabin across from you - Jaehyun and Winter’s - and promptly wished you would have also had the brilliant idea of bringing some noise-cancellation headphones.
Fortunately for you, your boyfriend was a self-proclaimed genius (and maybe once or twice you fed his ego and agreed), and had an even better idea. He fucked you so hard that you tuned out the rest of the world, unable to hear anything over both of your own moans.
In the morning, you woke up and took your time to crawl out of bed. Haechan had worn you out and you could still feel the soreness in your thighs from the night before. Not to mention the gentle morning sex you dreamed of, moans soft over the sound of birds tweeting quietly.
It was closer to afternoon when you finally went outside and got some sunlight. Everyone was in their own atmosphere. You ate breakfast and listened to mother nature for a while.
There was a lake walking distance from the campground and one of the boys called out your name, boarding two three-person canoes. You recognized the voice as Jaehyun’s and he asked, “Wanna go canoeing with us?”
You mulled it over, but noticing Ten’s eyes on you was all the discouragement you needed. Each of the four boys were aboard, including your boyfriend. Ten was as dear a friend to you as the other two, but that was it. No part of you wanted to make things even more awkward and strained in the friendship than they already were.
Though you and Haechan may not have dropped any comments, Ten’s lingering eyes were definitely not lost on either of you. Besides, being with a bunch of guys was not your idea of a vacation well-spent. You refused to leave Winter alone at a potentially haunted campground.
For that reason, you had a feeling that Jaehyun was only asking to tease Ten, but you declined the offer nonetheless and said sweetly, “I’m good. I’ll stay and keep Winter company. You guys have some brotherly bonding time.”
The boys told you to have fun and you bid them likewise.
You immediately scouted Winter afterwards and found her taking pictures of wildflowers. Unnoticed, you decided to slowly creep towards her, but your fun was ruined when she said without turning around, “I know you’re there. You can’t beat the master at her own game.”
You frowned.
Winter turned around, smirking at the fact that she’d caught you with your trousers down. “What’s up, bestie?”
You flopped against a blanket she’d sprawled across the ground. “Do you think Ten likes me?” you asked, fidgeting.
“As more than a friend? Definitely,” your best friend said, coming to join you. “Jaehyun told me the boys are going canoeing. I can only hope Haechan doesn’t try to drown him.”
You knew she was only being funny, but the thought made you shiver. Of course, you knew your boyfriend well and he would never. The trust you had in each other was all needed to comfort him and to know that you were all his was more than enough.
He could be possessive, but not over-possessive. He liked to stake his claim to you, holding you and kissing you in front of people so they knew you were his, and leaving visible marks on your neck in your alone time for the same purpose. He never demanded your complete attention, as much as he adored being in the center.
Tiny gestures never made him feel bitter. You had no painful memories of your boyfriend’s jealousy. The opposite, rather. He fucked you extra hard until he felt better.
You fought a smirk. At worst, he was a little meaner than usual. But damn it did you like it when he was mean and rough.
You defended your boyfriend and said, “My boyfriend is an angel. He doesn’t get jealous.”
“Your boyfriend is a Gemini. Duh, he gets jealous,” Winter argued teasingly, seeing dead through you. A silent understanding passed between you. She liked the jealousy sex, too. “He was so mad at me yesterday.”
“That’s because he was angry. Not jealous. You hurt me and he hates when I’m hurt.”
“Whatever,” your best friend replied, fondling with her camera that Jaehyun bought her for her birthday this January. “Wouldn’t it be funny if I reviewed the pictures and I saw a ghost?”
You grimaced. “That’s one way to put it. For sure.”
“Okay, maybe not funny. But I don’t think these woods are haunted. I believe the stories about the suicides and murders, but evil spirits? That’s a humongous stretch.”
Never mind yesterday’s confidence. Now, you only shuddered. Though you wanted to agree, there was something about these woods that rubbed you the completely wrong way. And it wasn’t only the tales of ghosts. There was an intangible kind of fear ready to consume you. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t put your finger on where it stemmed from.
That was unnerving to you. Only the weekend before, you were more than excited. There was no telling what traps laid waiting in Chimera, much less its woods, which made you all the more determined to unravel its mystery.
Now, you wanted to leave the knots as tangled as they’d been discovered.
“I guess,” you told Winter. If she thought nothing of the environment, then there was a chance you were overthinking it all.
Winter heaved a pleased sigh. “It’s hard to imagine anyone could taint such a beautiful place with blood,” she said, gesturing around to Mother Nature’s handiwork.
“That sounded strangely poetic,” you replied, feeling as if you were in some sort of murder mystery novel.
Winter snickered. “As my favorite writer once said, ‘believe nothing you hear, and only one half that you see.’”
You gave your best friend a look and asked expectantly, “And what does Edgar Allan Poe have to do with anything?”
“Nothing.” Winter shrugged her shoulders. “I just found it fitting.”
You laughed a little. In spite of its reputation, Chimera was by far one of the most beautiful places you had ever seen. Unsurprisingly, however, that alone wasn’t enough to attract tourists. When you checked the campground website, you ironically noticed they used its hauntedness as promotion to lure campers.
Clearly, it was working.
You found it interesting that Chimera was predominantly grass and trees. There were some signs of civilization, as you’d notice on the way to the campground, though mainly towards the center. Areas placed on the periphery of the town were especially rural.
For instance, the woods. Wildflowers consumed your vision and you understood why Winter was at peace here. You bit your lip. You didn’t want to be a buzz kill, but asked quietly, “Do you ever get the feeling that something you fear is hiding in plain sight?”
Winter nudged you gently. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just… I don’t know,” you exhaled frustratedly. “Something about this place keeps me on my toes.”
“Do you think that girl was killed here?”
You shrugged, trying to feign some semblance of nonchalance. “I think it would be easy to kill anybody here and get away with it. Think about it. There’s a lot of empty land to cover. Easier to live off the grid. You could be abducted from the mainland and no one would ever find you.”
“Okay, you’re thinking too hard,” Winter quipped with a wince. “I get why you’re scared, babe. But I also think you’re supposed to feel that way. For obvious reasons. What you need is a little distraction.”
That made you well with curiosity. “Like what?”
The second the boys were back from canoeing you and your best friend made a beeline to boyfriends, as if you couldn’t wait another. Winter had insisted only moments ago that good dick was all the distraction you needed and as badly as you wanted to make a spiteful argument, you had none to offer.
But you also wanted to simply talk to Haechan for a while. Not only was he a lover, but a friend wrapped into one. Your boyfriend had a natural ability to abate your fears, but he was also someone that would listen to them and help you wrap your head around them.
You fought a snicker at how badly that made him sound like a therapist. After this trip, you had a feeling you might’ve needed one.
Haechan sensed there was something off even from the other side of the lake and coiled an arm around below your ribs as soon as he got a chance, asking, “What’s wrong?”
Your eyes flickered. “How’d you know?”
“Gut feeling,” Haechan said with a shrug. “I know when my baby’s suffering. Talk to me.”
Your heart promptly ricocheted against your ribcage. You glanced around. Jaehyun and Winter had already snuck off to their cabin for some loving while Yuta and Ten were chattering about whatever, but you still were in need of some privacy.
You slithered into his arms and murmured, “I wanna be alone. With you.”
“There’s a nice little two-mile trail over here. Takes you around and back from over that way. We could shortcut it and be back in about thirty minutes or take the long way and come back in about sixty.”
“Let’s do it,” you said, gesturing for him to lead the way.
Going deeper into the forbidden woods was not your idea of resolving your fears, but the marvelous landscape gave you little room for complaints. Plus, being there with your boyfriend was almost romantic.
There was something about all this beauty that made you fear what was cloaked beneath.
Haechan was very patient with you and for a while you both walked in silence, absorbing your surroundings until he said, “Ready to tell me what’s on your mind?”
“I don’t know what it is, really. But this place gives me the creeps and I can’t explain why. It just does.”
“It’s not just the reputation, is it?” Haechan asked, seeing right through you.
It was almost scary how perfectly Haechan could piece you together. Nobody had you more figured out than he did. “You read me so well,” you murmured.
Haechan chuckled. “I call it the fear of the unknown. You don’t know what’s out there, so anything could be out there. The shit we fear is often the same shit we can’t control, and that’s why it scares us.”
“Does the unknown scare you?”
“No,” Haechan said, but draped an arm over you as a reminder you weren’t alone. “I like unpredictability. Anything could happen. But I understand why it terrifies some people.”
You teased, “Then, what are you afraid of?”
Your boyfriend’s tone and response in general was a hell of a lot more sober than you were expecting, “Stagnation and routine. I hate being confined to patterns. You already know that, though.”
That you did. Haechan mentioned he was considering switching jobs solely because he wanted more flexibility in life. The pay was nice and so was the insurance and paid vacations, but something had to give.
You supported him wholeheartedly, of course. Haechan never minded change and would have no problem adjusting, plus only having weekends (and scarce vacations) to each other was a ginormous test of your patience. He wanted more out of life. If he couldn’t spend it with you, then he saw little point.
“Is that all?” you pressed. He was brave, but not fearless. The reminder was very warm to you. And strangely comforting.
Haechan said without hesitation, “And losing you because of them.”
Damn it. Now, your heart was racing. It was no question how your boyfriend managed to sweep you off your feet. He was full of endless charm and sincerity. There was a kind of passion to him about you that was undeniable and never questionable.
You abandoned your self-restraint at the campground and rose off the heels of your shoes, meeting your lips to his. He had to be out of his goddamn mind if he thought he would lose you any time soon. There was no way in hell you would be capable of replacing him. In a world without your boyfriend, you would rather die lonely.
There was also something about learning your boyfriend’s fears that took the edge off your own. Maybe whatever they were rooted in was much simpler. This place spooked you because of the reputation attached. That was all.
And now that you were making out with your boyfriend, his heavy hands on your hips, you really couldn’t have given less of a damn about these woods.
He had the same idea and pulled you over by a tree. For a second, you clung onto your mind long enough to wonder what in the hell you were doing. Then, you lost it just as quickly. There was nothing but trees and plants out here. And maybe a couple of animals that would soon be traumatized. With the coast clear, you were welcome to be as reckless as you liked.
Haechan instructed, “Knees.”
You wasted absolutely no time in scrambling to your knees, what was left of your mind too warped to give a damn about the twigs crunching beneath your kneecaps. As always, you wanted to pleasure him and make him proud. Whatever the price may have been, you’d gladly pay it. No matter the sacrifice.
Your boyfriend was amused, though not at all surprised when you hurriedly reached for his pants, tugging them down before he got the chance to give the order. You wanted to taste that big dick down your throat.
There was something about Haechan’s size that made your mouth water and gape, ripe and ready, though also left you clenching around nothing at all. Obviously, you’d seen it a number of times before, but the element of surprise was a constant, non-changing factor. Damn it, you would never get tired of his cock.
Haechan noticed the dazed look in your eyes and smirked. He tapped his cock against your lips and said, “Do you got it, or do you want me to fuck your throat?”
“I’m going to suck the soul out of you,” you said with an unwavering kind of confidence.
Haechan gave a snicker. He fisted your hair behind your head and you swiftly got to work, wasting not another second to swirl your tongue around the base of his cock. You liked riling him up, liked taking your time to draw him between your lips and you knew your boyfriend liked it, too. No matter how much he bitched and whined.
“Fuck,” Haechan whined when your tongue teased the tip. He was hard as bricks, which took pretty much nothing to happen whenever you were involved.
You took his noises with delight, doing your best to ignore the tireless thumping between your plush thighs. As a distraction, you finally drew him inside your mouth, steadily swallowing him inch by damn inch as a measure to prevent yourself from gagging. Your cheeks were hollowed, breath entering through your nose.
Haechan’s grip on your hair tightened as he hissed, a telltale sign you were doing something very right. Your mouth was so unfathomably darn warm around his size that he was beginning to lose his mind, but to be frank, he lost it the very same day he met you.
A part of him used to hope that you would give it back, but insanity was a close friend of his now. Or maybe it was the dormant monster living eternally inside him, roused by you for whatever reason. And it was ravenously hungry.
A kind of greed came over and dominated you, possessing you to suck him like you genuinely intended to suck the soul out of him. As many times as you’d done it before, there could only be so much of his soul still there, though not pleasure. Pleasure was forever and always. “Just like that,” Haechan moaned, basking in the heat of your tongue pressed to his cock.
His praises only spurred you on. There was nothing you liked more than knowing how good you could make your boyfriend feel. Between the two of you lay a ride-or-die bond that nobody else would ever fathom. Even you somehow couldn’t comprehend how or why he drove you so crazy. You only knew you would do unspeakable things to please your boyfriend and sucking him off in the woods was far from the most bizarre thing on the list of shit you were willing to do.
You made eye contact with a traumatized rabbit for a whole second and it was all you could do to keep yourself from laughing and spoiling the mood. You gripped the base of Haechan’s cock, sucking him and stroking him all the while.
None of this should’ve had you dripping the way it did, but you could feel yourself only getting even wetter. You gagged a couple of times (with his size, it was inevitable) but never stopped, a sting of tears in your eyes forming out of twisted pleasure.
Haechan liked looking down and seeing you on your knees way too much, his dick in your mouth and your tear-stained face glancing back up at him. Fuck, you knew what it did to him when you looked at him like that.
Like a pretty little thing warped completely by him.
“I’m gonna cum,” Haechan said, tugging your hair. You hissed, but as he once said, there was no pleasure without pain. Nowhere did you say you didn’t get a thrill out of the sting. “Shit, baby. Are you gonna take it?”
You bobbed your head, humming around him and having a laugh smothered when he promptly made a noise of pleasure. He always wanted to last longer, but you made short work of him. A weakness if he knew one.
Noting that he was close to his peak, you pulled out all the stops to bring him to sweet release as quickly as possible. You loved witnessing your boyfriend disentangle, loved when he was running on empty without an inch of self-control. Haechan was at his worst here, rutting against your mouth to meet your pace with a roughness that never ceased to make you gag.
He was fucking your throat nice and hard, pulling your hair to use as he so pleased until the pleasure became so great that he couldn’t hold back anymore, a wave of warm cum painting your tongue. He never stopped fucking your mouth until his orgasm passed completely, high-pitched moans making you pulse rapidly. You swallowed as much as you could, not wanting to dirty your clothes and leave evidence of your lewd behavior.
Haechan pulled out eventually, chest undulating as he recovered from his orgasm, though he never forgot to ask, “You good?”
You nodded, wiping saliva from your mouth with the back of your hand.
“I hope you’re ready to get fucked,” Haechan said, helping you to your feet. Which made you snicker. If fucking in the woods was crazy, you were both out of your goddamn mind in love.
You moaned when Haechan kissed you again and you grabbed his cock in your palms, stroking him hard anew all the while. The longer you waited, the less you could ignore the fire igniting between your thighs that ached to be taken care of.
Haechan shoved you against the tree after a while and didn’t bother to slide your panties down, only slipping them to the side, courtesy of your skirt. Your palms dug into rough bark and he instead cuffed your wrists in his own hand, tightening them at your backside. He steered his cock to your entrance with the other, your arousal making it all too easy to skid right inside.
Your moans were instantaneous. Haechan stroked deeper and deeper until every inch was utterly nested inside your sweet cunt, his cock disappearing inside. He took pleasure in stretching you open, because even after fucking you time and time again, your cunt never seemed to get any less tight. He always had to coax his way inside, no matter how wet you were.
“Haechan,” you stammered, mouth hanging wide open with moans of his name.
As much as he liked hearing you moan his name, Haechan clamped his palm over your mouth, smothering your sounds while still keeping your arms locked behind your back.
Though you and your boyfriend had admittedly had sex in a number of places, some debatably strange, the middle of the haunted woods undoubtedly took the cake. The view was nice. You had to admit that it was somewhat romantic being fucked by your boyfriend against a tree while staring at an array of vibrant plants and pretty skies. And being out in the open aroused you a little more than it should have.
Your body shuddered when he released your wrists to cup a palmful of your breasts, slipping his hand beneath your shirt and his finger kneading your nipple. “You’re so beautiful like this,” Haechan exhaled. Even now, he sometimes struggled to comprehend that he could call someone as beautiful as you were his, but he would be damned if he let anyone snatch away his girl.
You listened contentedly to the sound of Haechan’s low groans of pleasure and sticks being crumbled beneath your toes as he pounded into you roughly, your fingernails finding purchase in the tree’s gnarled surface. All you could do was whimper, rooted in place and left to take all he gave you.
Haechan hit a deep spot and you cried into his palm, a weakness making your head spin with dizziness. He simply had a power over you, goddamn it. Your body could never get enough, a depthless well of lust and arousal in the face of your boyfriend.
As if he could hear whatever your muffled voice said in the crook of his palm, Haechan’s pace quickened, fucking you tirelessly with a passion that could never be sated. You wallowed in the sound of his hips slamming into yours with a sharp, wet slap. There was no denying what was happening if anyone made the unfortunate mistake of walking by.
Fortunately, your only company were harmless animals and possibly a couple of wandering ghosts.
The harder you were fucked, the harder it was to stand on your own. Haechan took and took from your body but left a crushing kind of pleasure that rendered you weak and another indescribable feeling, smothering you with the unknown sensation. But instead of fear, it aroused a dangerous curiosity within you.
“So good for me,” Haechan moaned, draping his lips over your already mark-stained neck. Your entire body was nearly coated in dark bruises ensuing after a long session of fucking and sucking and love-making. “You always gotta feel so damn good.”
His palm slacked on your mouth and you whimpered, “Baby, too much.”
Haechan slowed himself for a second and asked, “Do you want me to stop?”
You shook your head and ironically whimpered at his slower pace. God, no. You wanted Haechan to fuck you numb.
He snickered and picked back up his quickened rhythm. “That’s my girl,” he praised, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. “Take it for me, baby.”
Never had your body ever felt so stimulated and alive, every muscle taut with pleasure. It was a lot, but you took it like a champ, loving the way your boyfriend’s thick girth filled you up, hard and stiff. Fire set you ablaze, heat igniting at the vortex of your thighs and shooting through you like a bundle of fireworks. You were smothered by heat, scorching all over.
Your bodies were on autopilot, sweat beading at the surface of your skin and making your clothes adhere. You were sticky with sweat and arousal and eventually bits of Haechan’s cum, the part you were most excited for. The thought of your boyfriend emptying his balls into you alone was more than enough to make your walls clamp around his cock, wanting to literally milk him dry. You moaned in anticipation.
“Want you to cum,” you whimpered, body thumped forward with every heavy thrust inside you. “Baby, please. I wanna make you cum.”
Haechan bit his lip when he heard you beg. Why did you have to be so damn sexy? It was the perfect way to bring him over the edge. “Gotta take care of my girl first, baby,” he whispered sweetly in your ear.
As soon as those words escaped his mouth, you finally noticed how close you were, body under pressure and ready to snap. You could hardly even stand upright on your own, knees very liable to giving in (and more sore than you could notice over numbing pleasure). You were prepared to be broken beyond reclaim.
“Baby, I…”
“I know,” Haechan shushed you with a sweet peck to your cheek. “I’ve got you, baby. I’m right here. Let go.”
That was all you needed to hear before you couldn’t fight release anymore and it toppled over, draping over you in totality. You came so hard that tears began to well from your eyes, your hands desperately clinging to the tree bark, bruises ready to form all over. Haechan brought his palm back over your mouth quick enough to smother a prolonged, sated scream.
He whispered praises in your ear even your body slackened, limp against the tree but still letting him use you as needed. You were trembling with anticipation, restless as you waited for him to fill you to the brim. “Baby, please,” you begged. “Fill me up. Fill me up...,”
Haechan developed a ruthless pace now, absorbed in your desperate chants and the way your pussy pulsed around his cock, endeavoring to trigger his climax. He was tangled in the heat of you, dangerously close and gripping your hips so harshly you whined, “Fuck,” into his palm.
Soon enough, listening to the sound of your sweet voice and muffled cries got the best of him and Haechan’s hips stilled inside, cock twitching with orgasm and promptly releasing hotly inside you. He gave a long hiss while you sighed pleasantly, satisfied at long last.
Your boyfriend cleaned you up while you rested against the tree, feeling lightheaded. He ensured your skirt was in place and brushed off tiny specks of dirt that had clung to your knees. Haechan, as always, was restless, but you were still trying to catch your breath from the hell of a nut that he had only now given you.
And you could feel his release still warm between your thighs, caught in your panties.
You were as fucked out as you looked and he wallowed in the darkly arousing sight of you, evidence of what happened etched across your face no matter the length you went to hide.
Haechan fought a sly grin and asked, “Ready?”
You nodded. But when you went to walk, you reeled. Tomorrow was Sunday and that morning you would be kissing these woods goodbye, but you had a feeling your boyfriend would leave you too sore to work come Monday.
Not that you were complaining. You could only wonder if that was part of his master plan.
“Disgusting,” Winter sneered lightheartedly when she noticed you limping back to the campground.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. I’m sure you and Jaehyun gave the boys a lot to raise hell about while we were gone.”
Jaehyun, directly beside his girlfriend, pulled her into his arms and said, “Hey, it’s not my baby’s fault she’s loud.”
Winter hummed in agreement. “Right. It’s his.”
“Who’s disgusting now,” you remarked with a playful grimace.
Haechan - for once in his entire life - was silent, too focused on helping you to a shower. He only chuckled a little and ushered you away to take good care of you.
You felt a hell of a lot more refreshed once you cleaned up and had a change of clothes, though ironically energetic. When in need of a nap, Haechan fucking the shit out of you plus a nice bath usually did the trick (although the bathroom luxuries were limited outdoors), but somehow you were given a burst of energy.
Though not too long ago you were spooked by what lay in hiding in these woods, there was now a rain cloud of dread and sadness hanging over you when you realized this trip would be ending all too soon. You were having way too much fun in the company of your friends and boyfriend. The last thing you wanted was for it to end.
This place was growing on you. And now that it had, it was almost time to leave. The goddamn irony. 
You stepped outside. Jaehyun and your boyfriend were firing up the grill and Yuta was talking to a squirrel (you would rather not ask), meanwhile Winter was strangely nowhere to be seen. But Ten was at the empty campfire, spectacles sitting on the bridge of his nose as he flipped pages of a rather thick novel.
You chuckled. It was almost endearing. Some things never changed.
Your contemplative face was on. The conversation would have to be had one way or another. That much you knew. Your options were clear, though dull. Either address the elephant in the room, or create a rift in your relationship with willful ignorance.
So, you hauled ass right over to that campfire.
Ten was startled by your sudden presence and given the circumstances, he was prepared to give someone an earful over the unannounced interruption, but swiftly silenced himself when he noticed it was you who’d come to his side.
You winced when you noticed his jumpy reaction. “Sorry. Did I scare you?”
“No,” Ten lied and put his book face down. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just wanted to talk.”
That kindled his interest. “Oh?”
“Yeah,” you replied nonchalantly. “What are you reading?”
“This book about the cycle of darkness and light. It’s in German. It’s about how the light replenishes what the darkness steals, but the darkness will always undo it again regardless.”
That genuinely piqued your curiosity. “Sounds deep.”
“Oh, yes. There are plenty of figurative details about hope and hiding your quote-unquote darkness to other people. The author likens human beings to the moon. We all have a dark side, but other people only see the lit part of us,” Ten said, and you beamed at his enthusiasm. “The part we want them to see.”
You leaned over to notice the novel was indeed in German. And impressed that he could comprehend it nonetheless. “Do you have a hidden dark side?”
“‘We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves.’”
“François de La Rochefoucauld,” you replied, recognizing the quote.
Ten stared at you, wide-eyed. “You know?”
You nodded with a smile. “He also said, ‘true love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.’”
Ten went dangerously silent and you knew you’d struck a sore spot, but you weren’t done applying pressure.
You continued, “You’re a really good friend, Ten. And a great guy.”
“Don’t.”
You cocked your head. “Don’t do what?”
“Don’t be nice! Don’t be you,” Ten whispered frustratedly, standing to his feet. Which you did suit. “Do you know you’re the only person in this world who’s never laughed at me?”
It was your turn to be quiet now. Tension had a heavy hand clamped over your mouth.
“You’ve never mocked me. Never made fun of me. The only time you’ve made me feel less than someone else is when you and Haechan got together. Even then, none of it was your fault.”
Grabbing his hand, you crooned, “I’m sorry.”
That only exasperated Ten even more and he swatted your hand away, though careful not to hurt you, and hurriedly scooped his things into his arms. “Just stop. Don’t let me down gently. You’ll only make it harder on me.”
Ten stormed off before you could get another word in and you merely stood there, riveted in place. You glanced around and were relieved that nobody seemed to notice, but a sour sensation broiled in your gut as you wondered if you’d only rubbed salt in all the wrong wounds.
For fuck’s sake. Maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until you’d left the campground. At least then you wouldn’t have potentially ruined his whole trip.
Jaehyun passed out hotdogs as they were coming off the grill and everyone gathered together for an early dinner, but Ten was still nowhere to be seen. Yuta came to their shared cabin and offered him food, but he denied it, sulking all alone.
“I mean, shit. What did you do to him?” Yuta asked you once he returned.
You gave him a hard glare and ignored the question. “You guys should be nicer to Ten. He’s a little sensitive right now,” you scolded, then turned to face your boyfriend who was sitting directly next to you. “You, too.”
Haechan threw his hands up. “Yes, ma’am.”
You gave a prolonged exhale. It was no secret Ten had a mean crush on you, though you had denied it for as long as possible. Now that you’d confronted the issue at hand, it blew up in your face. For that reason, there was another unsettling feeling coming alive in the pit of your stomach, making your skin crawl.
But this time, you knew why. Ironically, you couldn’t tell if that was worse.
Nothing else was seemingly out of place and the evening carried on as usual, but you were definitely on edge. The shorter days meant an earlier sunset and by the time the sky dimmed pitch-black, most of the others had retreated to their respective cabins, in favor of escaping the approaching threat of bloodthirsty mosquitoes.
Except for you and your boyfriend, who approached you carrying two glasses of champagne and handing you one.
You accepted the glass and gave him a look. “And what are we celebrating?”
“Making it through the weekend. Alive,” Haechan joked, taking a seat next to you.
“Mm. You know what champagne does to me.”
He nodded, like that was the whole point. “Yeah. I expect your hands to be all over me in five minutes tops.”
You snickered and sipped from your glass quietly. Haechan placed a cool hand on your thigh, a stark contrast from the raging heat of the campfire crackling merely inches away from you. The sensation was very welcome.
There was no one around save for you, your boyfriend, and a large number of still trees. Haechan was usually full of conversation, but he was too preoccupied in drawing circles on your bare thighs, caught in how much he loved them. You smiled slyly. The feeling was mutual. Your boyfriend had some thick ass thighs.
Then, your thoughts were dark, and you frowned at the reminder of the terrible dread reeling like a vortex in your belly. “Ten likes me.”
“No offense, baby. But I think you were the last person to figure that out.”
You frowned. “I think I always knew, but I didn’t want to accept it. Because I value the friendship him and I have and I didn’t want that bond to be broken. I still can’t really believe he has feelings for me.”
“I don’t see what’s so surprising,” Haechan said, glancing up from your thighs to look you plain in the eye. “You’re a likable person, babe. I say the guy has taste. Too bad you’re already mine.”
Your lover more or less played compassionate, but you could tell he didn’t actually feel too bad about the situation. Or much of anything for that matter. Funnily enough, that kindled a kind of uncertainty in you. “Doesn’t it make you angry?” you asked curiously, threading your fingers through his bright head of hair.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Why would it? I already know you’re all mine,” Haechan reasoned. “I don’t need any affirmation because I know I own your mind, body, and soul. It’s like I have you under a spell.”
Maybe the champagne had you under a spell, because you swore he looked even better than normal, skin glimmering courtesy of the crackling fire. You could see an identical inferno irate in his pretty brown eyes, blood-hungry and spiraling alarmingly out of control. You knew damn well you were playing with fire, but for whatever reason, you were dangerously in love with the burn.
Your lover’s lips attacked you and you submitted to his touch, within the firing line of danger. Your hands found his body promptly, desperate for warmth, and Haechan smirked because he had predicted as much.
He could never scare you. The more you uncovered about him, the deeper you fell into some depthless pile of doom.
Haechan coiled one arm around your backside while the other skirted between your thighs, grabbing a feel of your clothed arousal. You moaned, already getting wetter. “You do realize this is our third time today alone?”
“What can I say? I’m addicted to you,” Haechan said, kneading between your thighs and watching your lips fall with a pleased exhale.
You kept touching and sucking each other until Haechan inevitably got a little too riled up hearing your sweet moans and gently pressed you against the thick log, a blanket already draped above. Strangely, time seemed to move slower, like the whole world was frozen over and there was no one else there. Nobody to interrupt your reckless fun.
A tinge of heat blossomed inside your chest, rapidly spreading elsewhere when your boyfriend plucked your shirt and bra and started to kiss his way down your breasts. You clasped your palms on his shoulders, soft little sighs still doing a number on him as he nibbled at your flesh, cock growing harder.
Just thinking about all the many times Haechan fucked you into oblivion had you in a drunken stupor and you begged demurely, “Please, baby.” There was nothing you weren’t willing to do if it meant he would stop drawing out the inevitable, no matter how good his kisses were.
Haechan swore loudly and shoved a hand down your shorts, breaking the barriers and feeling your arousal coating his fingers. Did you always have to be so impatient and wet? Your head tipped back with a moan, body arching against his touch.
You whimpered in surprise when Haechan brought you to a stand to sweep the blanket over the grassy ground and again when he pulled you to the surface, grabbing your shorts by the band and promptly tossing them aside. Haechan made sure you were far away enough from the fire not to be a safety hazard, but close enough for light and warmth.
Not that you need very much of the latter. Your boyfriend touching you kindled sparks in your body hot enough to make you sweat all over.
Your boyfriend hungrily stripped you both of your underwear and then lined his hard cock at your entrance, slippery with your own slick. In your mind, an eternity seemed to pass before he winded inside, and you clung tightly to your breath before you lost it forever.
Haechan leaned below all the while, leaving a trail of sweet kisses up your stomach. You moaned loudly, arching into his touch, somehow feeling an elated sense of pleasure. You were blatantly more aware of his cock pressed deeply into your vice-like cunt, and your legs locked around his hips, pulling him even deeper.
There was something new. Drunk sex with your boyfriend was always fun, but it wasn’t this. It was sloppier. It was teeth accidentally clashing and giggling into each other’s mouths.
None of that was happening. Instead, every sensation was a million times more unrestrained and for a second you wondered if you were making it all up in your head or if your boyfriend was simply that good at pleasuring you.
The thought disappeared as quickly as it had come, because you were too distracted by Haechan’s warm breath on your neck, tickling the flesh as he whispered a bunch of sweet nothings into your ear, full aware that it would bring you over the edge. You felt like a mad woman, unsure of anything and everything except for how perfect it felt to be in your boyfriend’s arms.
“You feel so good,” Haechan moaned into your ear, and if you hadn’t already spiraled out of control, you sure as hell had now.
“Fuck. God, Haechan,” you whimpered, too overwhelmed. How in the hell could he feel so good? Every inch of you was sensitive, but every sensation was heightened. “I fucking love this.”
You were half-tempted to pinch yourself to determine if you were lucid dreaming, but then Haechan dug his sharp nails into your hips and you instantly knew there was no denying you were very awake.
Haechan poorly stifled a snicker and watched the bounce of your breasts as he stroked deeper and deeper. A wavering orange hue casted over your body and highlighted the irrefutable evidence of pleasure on your pretty face, courtesy of the campfire.
Lord have mercy, you were beautiful. Nothing made him prouder than being able to call you his girl. No woman before you had ever left him so love-struck, so downright in love. You made him crazy in a way that he would never fathom, but what he did know was that he was in over his head and not even death could part you.
A thought crossed your mind and incited a lustful greed within you, and you grabbed Haechan’s bicep, whimpering, “Haechan, stop.”
That pulled him out of his little pleasure-induced stupor and Haechan ground to a halt, quickly scanning your face for any sign of discomfort he might’ve missed in his trance. Needless to say, he came short of answers.
“I wanna be on top,” you explained, making him pull out and lay beneath you now. “Just sit back and relax.”
Haechan submitted to you because for fuck’s sake, he was out of his mind in love with you, and whatever you wanted he would give you. You could cry for the moon and he would steal it for you. No questions asked.
You switched positions to straddle his body, reaching for his cock and steering him to your entrance. Haechan moaned when he was fitted back inside, and your hands slipped to his chest as you eyed him, having the perfect view of his face tensing with pleasure of all kinds.
Had you not been interrupted by a moan, you would have giggled. Your fingers pranced around his sensitive nipples and Haechan called out your name, palms seeking anchorage at your ass. You were both obviously driving each other insane, in a war to see who could take the other off their hinges.
Haechan watched you bounce on his cock and it was the most beautiful sight in the world to him. Your mouth parted with blissful sighs and soft moans, your bodies an amalgam of sticky coats of sweat and hotness.
“I love you,” Haechan blurted through ragged breath, but goddamn was it true.
“I love you, too,” you moaned in the midst of fucking yourself on a very hard dick. And trying not to lose what was left of you. “Shit. Holy fuck.”
Haechan involuntarily thrusted up to meet your motions, matching your quick tempo. You could feel and hear the blood pumping rhythmically in your head, your pulse thudding. Each of your breaths were quick, like you could hardly breathe through the thick tension of pent-up love and desire between you.
You simply couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough of the feeling. You couldn’t fathom why it was so goddamn good. Even Haechan had to notice you were riding him harder than usual, chasing satisfaction with a craving that could never be satiated. You felt like an animal, wondering what it was that made him feel even better than you thought possible.
Every insignificant detail was zeroed in on. Did he always have those little scratches on him? And had you been the reason? Your eyes fell up his neck and down his torso and you bit your lip smugly, noticing all the marks you’d left behind.
“Baby, I’m so close,” you whimpered, rocking harder.
“Come on, baby. You’re so beautiful,” Haechan groaned, close and throttled by the tension. You were closing in on him, wrapping around him so tightly and driving him to climax.
The muscles in your thighs tightened and slackened, and you bounced to the rhythm of the pulsing between your legs. Haechan reached for your hand and laced his fingers through yours, wanting to be thoroughly connected with you through every moment of your orgasm.
He uncontrollably rambled some more praises in your ears about how good you felt and how beautiful you were, and you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, teeth clamping into your bottom lip to stifle a loud cry and way too immersed in pleasure to notice the pain. Your throbbing cunt and smothered cries prompted Haechan and he released inside, still fucking you back until he rested with a long exhale.
Your body went limp, crashing at his side. Looking at the sky, you could see stars, but when you closed them, they were still there.
Haechan immediately started to kiss you and you kissed back, tasting ecstasy on his lips. Your boyfriend cradled your body, whispering, “You did so good. I’m so proud of you.”
You remembered giving a soft little sigh of pleasure and Haechan taking the liberty of redressing you.
Everything after that was a blur.
When you woke up, the sky was still perpetually dark, but you were in bed. You turned to your side and came to the eerie conclusion that you were very alone. Haechan was nowhere to be found.
Maybe he’s just using the restroom, you reasoned. Yeah, okay. That happened. For your comfort, you decided to wait up until he returned.
Half an hour later, Haechan was still a no-show. That was when you began to suspect there was something far more sinister at hand than a visit to the bathroom. You crawled from under the sheets and slipped on your shoes, determined to investigate the matter yourself.
There was a pounding in your chest. Where could Haechan have disappeared to for thirty minutes in the middle of the night?
Except for anywhere. He could be anywhere in these goddamn woods and you would never find even a trace of him. A cool dread plagued your body and you wrapped your arms around yourself, praying your boyfriend was somewhere safe. You had a strange gut feeling that something heinous had happened and it was all around you, suffocating.
You crept outdoors and oddly enough, noticed Yuta seated at the campfire. You remembered making love to Haechan there, because the memory was still fresh. For some reason, it felt like moments yet days ago altogether.
Why was it still lit at this hour? More significantly, what was Yuta doing there so late?
“Yuta?” you called out. 
No reply. He was stiff as a boulder. You approached him stealthily, wanting to believe he was only playing an evil trick on you.
When you could finally get a front view of him, you cried out in a blend of surprise and terror.
Nothing could have prepared you for the gruesome sight of Yuta’s lifeless body. You shrieked and screamed until your voice could barely muster a murmur. For a good while, you only stood there, muscles stiff with shock. Tears silently began to drip as they gathered at your eyelashes.
You forced your eyes away from Yuta. His face had been burned so badly that you could hardly recognize him. The skin was disfigured with marks, wrinkly and apparently rotten. You noticed the purple lines around his wrists and his slashed throat and hoped he hadn’t been burned alive.
You refused to look at him, refused to touch him. You cowered away, repulsed by the consuming stench of blood clogging your senses. Feeling nauseous, you turned over and knocked over two near-full wine glasses in your wake, bending your knees. It made you want to throw up.
This could not be happening. You rubbed your eyes, like there was a chance sleep and your tears were making you delirious. A bitter taste parched your tongue as you prayed this was only a ghastly dream. You would not accept this as reality. You didn’t want to believe Yuta was - completely and irrevocably - gone.
But regardless of how hard you tried, your body scorned you, refusing to wake up.
This was a living nightmare.
For some strange reason, there was a canoe approaching the shoreline and you made a beeline for the lake, too blinded by your need for answers to pause and ask yourself why there was somebody paddling at this hour.
“Haechan?” you called out shakily.
Nothing. Where could he have gone? The night was far too dark for you to piece together who was on the canoe. Which was unnerving.
Dread hit you tenfold when it dawned on you that Haechan could have been anywhere, slain and blood-splattered like how you discovered Yuta.
Tears made your eyes burn. There was no way in hell your boyfriend was dead. But none of that explained what happened to Yuta. And were the rest of your friends okay?
Why did nobody hear you scream?
The growing questions only made you tremble with mystification. You couldn’t for the life of you comprehend why anybody would want to do something so unspeakable to Yuta. He had been nothing but an incredible friend to you for years and a wonder to everyone he met.
Anger briefly numbered you to your fear. Yuta didn’t deserve to die. Not in such a cold-hearted, brutal manner. Nobody did. The look on his face when you found his body was permanently etched into your memory. He had been burned beyond recognition. The damage was irreversible. Even if he somehow survived the burns, there was no way to undo the distortion.
Your heart had never been so heavy. There was a possibility the wound to his neck killed him, but there was also a fair chance it only damaged him enough to render him unheard.
What if Yuta tried to scream, but nobody heard him, either?
You should have known coming to this haunted city was a fatal mistake. The rumors of people slaughtered in Chimera should have been more than enough to dissuade you, but you each were too goddamn stubborn.
Look what that had gotten you. A dead friend, a missing boyfriend, and an uncertain status on the rest of your number.
The uncertainty about the rest of your friends only made you even sadder. Had they somehow slept through Yuta’s death, too? Or were they victims to a similar fate?
No. That couldn’t be the case. Because if it was, then why had you been left untouched?
Surely, there were no goddamn miracles in this godforsaken place.
You wracked your brain trying to remember what happened. For some reason, everything was fuzzy and disoriented. You recalled the whole day up to a point. Haechan and you fooled around in bed until you finally roused. Then, you had breakfast. The boys went canoeing. You went to annoy Winter with your paranoia.
The boys came back and you went on a hike with Haechan only to fool around some more. Then, you returned, took a shower, the boys fired up the grill and you had a conversation with Ten. He froze you out and stormed into his cabin for the night.
Everyone ate dinner without him, they eventually left, and you spent the night fooling around with Haechan under the moonlight.
Then, everything else went black. You didn’t remember getting into bed with Haechan, but you assumed he carried you there. Your eyes got too heavy after orgasm and you seemingly passed out.
That was strange. And maybe too much of a coincidence. But Haechan would never do anything to hurt you. Would he?
Don’t be silly, you chided. Haechan loves you and he’s fucking missing right now. Instead of questioning him, you should be trying to find him before it’s too late.
You didn’t even let yourself wonder if it already was too late. Haechan was not dead. Anyone could leave you, but not him. Not the boy who promised you forever and then some.
Haechan was the common denominator, but Ten was the missing piece. You hadn’t seen him since you tried to turn him down gently and there was no telling if he ever came out the cabin since. He may have been in his feelings, but no anger could prompt him to do this. You were certain.
You were certain about all of them. But if not them, then who did that leave? A ghost?
Your heart raced quicker than ever before as you bolted to the lake, and you halted dead in your tracks when your feet landed right at its murky edge. The sky was still too dark for you to make out the body on the canoe. You squinted, but you couldn’t even see a body at all.
Tall, thick trees covered the border of the lake. Moonlight filtered through some of the branches, though unfortunately, it didn’t come close to illuminating the canoe. You glanced at the water and saw a pair of eyes staring back at you.
And they weren’t your own.
For a minute, you couldn’t move. You went stiffly rigid, attempting to convince your brain that this was only a figment of your delirious imagination. But the wide pair of eyes didn’t move. They didn’t even blink.
Fear flooded back into your body, bleeding thickly out of you, and you lurched back with an eldritch scream. Everything happened so damn quickly. Your back hit the trunk of a tree and the branches rattled. A body plummeted violently into the cool water, but you didn’t register the splash, veins pumping icy dread instead of warm blood.
You didn’t investigate, slumping against the tree and pulling your knees to your bosom. You cried hot tears, because you recognized those eyes. They were the same ones you always caught staring at you. They were the same ones that looked at you with hurt and heartbreak the last time you’d seen them.
Now, they looked at you with lifelessness. And they unmistakably belonged to Ten.
“I’m sorry,” you cried, as if he could hear you. “I should have left it alone. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”
There was no word to describe the depth and darkness of the feeling that plagued you now. You shuddered, an imagined nipping wind numbing you beyond the surface and to the very fucking core. It was brutal and ruthless.
Every inch of your body was bitter with pain. You were so dizzy with shock and consternation that you couldn’t even stand. Your head ached from crying so damn much.
You felt like you had done this to Ten. He was even harder to move on from. Your last memories were anything but happy and you could only picture the ache and longing absorbing his features, the hurt crushing the impact of his voice.
Nothing made sense to you. Ten fell for your gentleness, but resented you for letting him down gently. You wanted to understand him. You wanted to make things better, but you failed and now you would have to live with that mistake forever. Because it was too late to undo.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” you croaked quietly, voice absent. “Now, I’ll never be able to. Please forgive me.”
Every breath you took was pained. You could barely speak without your voice cracking. There was no welcoming feeling. Especially not the self-loathing that swallowed you whole and throttled you. Everything you felt was cold and lingering, dark and unfurling.
You must have spent an eternity sitting there sobbing your heart out, mourning your dead friend, because you only stood to your feet when you heard the sound of something meeting the shoreline.
The canoe. You had forgotten all about the damn thing and frowned when you saw nobody. You walked over and had your blood already not been icy, it would have run cold.
Jaehyun laid sprawled across the canoe, completely soaked, like he had toppled over into the lake.
“Jay,” you gasped, shocked. This whole time you had been calling out for a dead body. He was ghostly pale, hair stuck to his skin.
You made the decision to reach over, careful not to rock the canoe too much in case you tripped over, and felt for a pulse. Even a weak one. Anything that proved he wasn’t gone.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. Jaehyun was ruthlessly still. His body was like ice and in your head, a temperature of a negative degree. You accidentally left a bloody print on his arm, recouping your hand when you begrudgingly accepted he was no longer breathing and there was no chance of him ever doing so again, and crept back over to the shore.
Just when you thought you had no more tears left to cry, they fell again, mocking you. You could dimly see your reflection, your tear-stained face a complete mess.
That was the third dead body. With each one, you loss more and more faith that any of your friends were okay.
But there was still Haechan and Winter.
That made you confused. Jaehyun would never leave Winter by herself. Especially not in the middle of the night in dark, haunted woods. How in the hell did he get on a canoe by himself?
The whole reason Jaehyun even came on this trip was to protect her in case this place turned out to actually be haunted. Was Winter okay? Jaehyun would never let anyone harm her, if there was anything he could do. They would have to get through him before they got to her.
Maybe they did get through him.
Rage warmed you and gave you life again. Whoever did this would pay. You would find them and seek sweet revenge. But first, you needed to confirm whether or not your boyfriend and your best friend were alive.
Now that you thought about it, Haechan would never leave you alone, either. It simply wasn’t in his nature and didn’t make sense. Not even a little bit.
When presented with a perceived danger, Haechan’s first instinct was to grab you and keep you sheltered in his arms. When you were frightened for your life, Haechan never failed to soothe you, promising you he would go through hell and back to keep you safe.
That wouldn’t change all of the sudden. He was no coward. Now, your heart hurt, wondering if he had given himself up to protect you too.
You turned around and made a beeline for Winter and Jaehyun’s cabin. You needed to find her. You needed to know she was okay. Together, you could get the hell out of here, but not before you found your boyfriend also.
The campground was the same as you’d left, still as lifeless as before with Yuta’s corpse by the campfire, and you weren’t too sure how that made you feel. You darted to the right, immediately charging straight towards your best friend’s cabin.
There were no lights on. The only source of light was the campfire burning in the center. It gave you hope that Winter may have been sleeping peacefully, oblivious to all that happened.
But unlike you, Winter was a light sleeper. Wouldn’t she have noticed Jaehyun crawling out of bed or something?
You frowned. You didn’t know what happened. Jaehyun could have sensed danger outside and went to investigate. He could have kissed her forehead and urged her to go to sleep.
You shook your head and slowly opened the door, ignorant of the blood print you’d left on the knob, pulse speeding at the eerie sound of it pushing open. The darkness made you wary. You couldn’t even be sure if she was on the bed.
For assistance, you turned on the light, and breathed a little in relief when you noticed a figure slumped under the sheets. But why was her head below the comforter? Winter never slept like that. Something about it being too hot and too hard to breathe.
The relief you felt was short-lived. Dread returned and you inhaled and exhaled deeply. A part of you didn’t want to know if your best friend was dead or not. But she was too still. Like she wasn’t even breathing under the covers.
You plucked the cover off her face and trembled. There was fresh blood on her chin, rolling down her lips. And a fork in her left hand. And you had a sneaking suspicion that you knew why.
Gently, you opened her mouth, and when you saw that a piece of her tongue was no longer there you had a painful moment of realization.
Your heart broke. It didn’t split down the middle, but broke into millions of pieces. Winter was dead. But you knew damn well Haechan was still out there somewhere, good and well.
You grabbed Winter’s lifeless body in your arms and cried into her shoulder, oddly comforted by the fact her body was still warm. Everything made sense now. This was all your fault.
Nothing was a coincidence. Winter frightened you and made you bite your tongue. Then, you found her with a fork in her hand, a piece of her tongue removed. Yuta gave you his marshmallow when you burned yours. Then, you found him with his face burned without a lick of mercy.
Ten always stared at you. He was always watching. He looked at you with a kind of adoration in his eyes. You found him staring into his own reflection, body slumped on a tree.
And Jaehyun offered to take you on a canoe ride with the guys. You found him sprawled across that very same canoe.
“I did this to you,” you sobbed, grabbing her hand. You bristled when you noticed blood on her fingernails, knowing it wasn’t her. Winter fought to protect her damn self.
And you knew who attacked her.
You were so overwhelmed. You had never felt this many emotions at once before. Especially not this intensely. You were wounded and betrayed. Angry and regretful. Frightened and loathing.
For a moment, you only cried in Winter’s warmth, holding her hand and blaming yourself for everything. You begged her to wake up. You begged her to smile and tap your arm, screaming, “Just kidding!”
This had to be a prank. This had to be some cruel joke that you were the butt of, a trick at your expense. You wanted everyone to open the door one by one and laugh at you for falling for such a stupid scheme, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t true.
You saw the very real marks on Yuta’s face. You saw the lifelessness in Ten’s eyes. You felt Jaehyun’s non-existent pulse. Even now, you could feel the warmth slowly leaving Winter’s body.
Eventually you pulled away, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. You saw the blood on the sheets and frowned. That hadn’t been there before. Only then did you notice the blood dampening your clothes.
How long had that been there? Was it from one of the bodies?
No, because I only touched Jaehyun. And he clearly drowned, you thought. But pushed the thought of Jaehyun’s drenched body out of your head as quickly as it came.
There were more pressing matters at hand. You needed to get the hell out of here. And you needed to do so alive. Someone had to be the bearer of bad news. Someone had to tell your friends’ parents that their worst nightmare had come true.
You found the courage to leave your best friend there and crept outside the cabin. Your phone was in Ten’s and Yuta’s. Goddamn it.
The sight of Haechan emerging from the woods made you grind to a halt. You were scared for your goddamn life. You had no idea what your chances of survival were, but you got it now. Why you had been spared from your friend’s fate.
The Haechan you loved was not the man staring at you from afar. The Haechan you’d come to know was not the man approaching you. He was somebody else. Somebody you were not familiar with and did not know how to handle.
Adrenaline thumped in your head. You had a choice. You could flee or you could fight.
For now, you decided to play dumb.
“Baby,” you called out, colliding into his cold arms. “Everybody’s dead! Are you okay? What happened to you?”
Haechan stared at you unrecognizably. You knew you were looking danger dead in the eye. There was no warmth in him, no life. He had blood stains on his clothes and scratches on his face.
From Winter, you bristled inwardly. You banished the thought, knowing your cover would be blown the longer you thought about how he had preyed down your friends.
Haechan coiled an arm around you and said simply, “It’s not my blood.”
“Not your blood?” you repeated slowly, pulling yourself away. “Then, whose blood is it?”
Your boyfriend only smiled. “I think you know the answer to that, sweetheart,” he said sweetly, but you knew only venom was inside him.
You wanted to scream. There was no deceiving him. You could tell he already knew. Haechan read you like an open book and you knew he would never not have you all figured out.
Giving up deception, you cried, “Why?”
“Because you’re mine,” he explained with a gentleness to his tone, approaching you despite picking up on how adamant you were on keeping him at arm’s length. “Don’t you see? Everybody wants to keep us apart. We can be alone now.”
“Haechan, nobody was keeping us apart,” you said, unable to justify his actions.
“Yes, they were,” Haechan argued. “Like the old geezer at your job. He worked you too much and paid you too little. I was doing you a favor.”
You paused as you processed his words. He was talking about your boss. The same boss that mysteriously died a couple of weeks back. You put the pieces together.
You gasped, “You killed him?”
Haechan scoffed. “Don’t give me that look. I know you hated the guy. I remember the smile on your face when you told me your boss was dead.”
“Yuta, Ten, Winter, and Jaehyun weren’t keeping us away from each other,” you hissed, using rage as your fuel and hatred as your anchor. “They did nothing to us.”
“They were nuisances. You spent too much time with them. You’re better off without them anyway, baby. Winter hurt you and laughed in your face. I mean, what kind of best friend does that? Of course, I had to eliminate the bigger threat before I got to her.”
The bigger threat was Jaehyun. He would go to the ends of the earth for Winter and you could tell from the moment he was introduced to you. You gave him the golden stamp of approval for a reason.
Jaehyun would protect Winter until he had nothing left to give. You had no idea how Haechan took him down, but at this point, you didn’t want to know. It made you well with pain. You hoped they met again in the afterlife and in the next one with a much kinder fate.
Haechan continued, “Yuta was too comfortable. I didn’t like how he talked to you. He always got too close, leaning into you and shit. I had enough. And Ten definitely wanted to take you away from me. I know you saw how he looked at you.”
The pressure in your heart was building. You couldn’t breathe. You needed a pulse. The whole world was upside down. “You said… you said it didn’t make you angry. You told me that you didn’t care about those kinds of things. I thought you were different.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to them,” Haechan chided, stepping closer. You stumbled and he caught you in his heavy arms, not letting up even when you tried to swat him away. “I love you better than your exes ever did. They didn’t care for you, baby. They could never love you like I do. Nobody can.”
Struggling in his arms, you screamed in his face, “My exes didn’t kill all my fucking friends!”
Haechan started to laugh. You gaped at him and his audacity. There was no kind of levity in this situation and yet he was humored. You knew now that your boyfriend was a goddamn psychopath.
You managed to slip away from him by grace of his distractedness and barked, “What the hell is so funny?”
Haechan explained through bursts of laughter, “Do you think I could have killed four people by myself? We did this together, baby. Just look at yourself.”
You reluctantly did as told. That was when the blood on your clothes finally made sense and you started to feel dirtier than ever. Was your friends’ blood on your hands? That would explain the blood on Winter’s sheets.
Unable to endure the pain, you dropped to your knees, losing the strength to stand. The blood was everywhere. It stained your palms. Now, conscious of its presence, you were hyper aware that you were covered in your friends blood and the feeling was akin to being dipped in acid.
How could you have only now noticed? You were too frenzied searching for your friends, searching for a spark of life in this desolate city.
You clung to denial, chanting through sobs, “No. No, no, no.”
“Shh,” Haechan sang, pulling you into his embrace gently. He had stopped laughing, but this was a man incapable of empathy. No matter how convincing he was. “We’re finally alone, sweetie. No one to steal you from me.”
You hated yourself for not loathing the way his body felt around yours. There was a big part of you that wanted to go back to a couple of hours ago, when you thought it was only him and you in this world, and you had no idea the traumatic experience you’d have only hours later.
That made the world stop. You found peace for a split second before hell peeled the corners of your vision again. Your head rose up, and you looked Haechan in his empty, dark eyes.
Had you imagined the spark there? No. You had to look deeper. There was a fire there, a web of temptation, desire, and viciousness. That was what you saw in him. It was passion, but you had mistaken it for a different kind.
“Haechan?” you called out.
Your boyfriend said pleasantly, “Yes, my dear?”
“Did you put something in my champagne?”
“Yes.”
At least he was honest. For once.
“You spiked my drink,” you began, voice cracking. “Because you knew I would never agree to your sick ways in my right mind.”
To your dismay, Haechan didn’t deny the accusation, only giving you a sickening smile and stroking your hair gently. Like your whole world wasn’t upside down now. He, like this was some kind of joke, merely said, “Ahchoo.”
You bristled with a vicious wrath. Haechan was out of his goddamn mind. He didn’t give a single fuck about what he had done and frankly, you’d had enough of trying to converse. You needed to get out of here immediately and seek help. There was no way you would play along with his twisted delusion.
A chimera.
Your heart stopped when you once again came to the brutal realization that your phone was trapped in Yuta and Ten’s cabin. You knew Haechan would never let you get away with a phone call. If you could even make one. In the middle of nowhere, there was no such thing as Wi-Fi or service.
Plus you were surrounded by acres of trees and water. Where the hell would you go? The main road would be too damn obvious even if you somehow managed to get there. And without a car, you were positively out of luck.
Haechan’s tone was saccharine, but there was only poison in his voice as he leaned into your ear and warned, “Whatever you’re thinking; don’t you fucking dare.”
You glared Haechan dead in the eyes, adrenaline coming over you, and you gave him a smack across the face.
Then, you leapt up and bolted into the woods. Haechan only laughed when you slapped him, but you didn’t turn around, and you damn sure didn’t stop. Fucking psycho, you sneered. 
You vanished into the thick trees, now grateful for the darkness, though time was running scarce. Daylight would be approaching soon. Shock made you lose track of time. There was no telling how long you’d spent losing what remained of your sanity.
You were a livewire, blood pumping in your ears. The sound of twigs snapping behind you made you hyper aware of Haechan’s manhunt and you knew he wasn’t far behind, but you never gave up. Your legs ached from the lack of oxygen, but your white flag was still lowered. You would never give him the satisfaction of surrender until you knew you’d done all possible to save yourself.
Your lover called out from somewhere behind you, “You can run, baby - I love a chase - but you can’t hide.”
The rage blindsided you. He was the epitome of a nightmare dressed like a daydream. How could you not have noticed? This was the man you spent every spare second of your day with. How could you not have seen him for the creature he truly was beneath the surface?
Haechan liked the hunt. There was still a chipperness to his tone even as he followed the noise of your feet scurrying through those dark, wicked woods. He was evil. He was a monster. But you knew now that the villains of this godforsaken town were not ghosts or spirits - they were the very people you trusted with your life.
Tears blurred your vision and shock made the world swivel. You refused to be another rumor. You refused to be reduced to another campfire story. You would fight for your life up until your very last exhale.
“Where do you plan on going, darling?” Haechan asked, tone welling with concern. “There’s nothing or no one out here for miles. You’ll die out here before you find someone to save you.”
You slammed into a tree and swore louder than you would’ve liked, knowing Haechan was hot on your trail because you could hear him chiding you for being so clumsy.
“But you didn’t die out there,” said your therapist.
You bobbed your head. “I got back up and I ran,” you told her, shuddering as you were forced to place yourself back in what was easily the worst day of your goddamn life. “He was so close. I ran into the daylight. I was in those woods for days. I had nothing. No food, no water.”
“You had resolve,” the therapist corrected. “Because of that, you’re here to tell the story.”
You nodded a little, because you only barely survived. You genuinely thought you would die that night. If not by Haechan himself, then eventually hunger or dehydration.
“Why does this always happen to me?” you cried. “Every time I fall for someone, they treat me like a possession. But I never thought it would go this far. How come I didn’t realize until it was too late? I even…their blood is on my hands.”
The therapist stopped you right there. “He took advantage of your trust and adulterated your champagne without your knowledge to make you easier to manipulate. You said it yourself. He knew you would never agree in your right mind.”
None of her consolation helped. Half a year had passed since the most traumatic event of your life. The wound still felt fresh. You could still hear your friends’ voices and see their faces following you everywhere.
And knowing that their blood was on your hands made things even worse. You could hardly live with yourself. None of this would have happened if you would have never met Haechan, if you would have never given him the time of day. They would still be here, living their lives.
It wasn’t fair that only you and that monster survived that day. You despised yourself for giving him access, but you loathed him for what he took from you.
For what he took from them.
She asked, “Have the nightmares stopped?”
The nightmares started a little after that weekend and hadn’t ceased since. They would return to you every single night as you slept, more or less the same as before. You would be running for dear life as Haechan hunted you down. The setting was never the same. Some nights, he would chase you through a labyrinth of trees. Others, through a never-ending hallway. No matter the setting, he would hunt you until he finally caught you and leapt over you.
But only once he uttered the same four words in your ear would you wake, “You’re all mine now.”
They were simple, but they never failed to creep the living hell out of you.
You shuddered. “No. But they’ve become less frequent.”
“And why do you think that is?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. It happened after I started spending time with this guy.”
That piqued her interest. “New boyfriend?”
“Not really,” you replied, the mere thought making you tremble. “I’m talking to this guy - Mark. He’s really sweet and I do like him, but I told him I’m not ready for a relationship. Frankly, I’m not sure if I ever will be again. But we still spend time, because I like his company.”
“That is a completely normal response after being exposed to a traumatic event. It may cause you to be emotionally distant, self-protective, and wary of others intentions. It is a difficult part of the process of healing and learning how to navigate through life as you did before.”
Though you already knew the answer, you asked, “Will my life ever be the same?”
“Not likely,” the therapist told you honestly. “This is a new beginning for you. You’ll be learning to shed your old skin and adapt.”
You frowned.
The therapist concluded the session not much later and you went home. Therapy was new for you. Ironically enough, it was never your idea. Instead of pressuring you into explaining what the hell happened to you, Mark suggested you tried therapy.
To think of the boy sitting at home waiting for you was bittersweet. You sincerely enjoyed spending time with Mark, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be vulnerable with him. Like the therapist said, you were being self-protective and wary of his intentions. No matter how hard you tried, you knew you would never be able to trust the same way again.
It made you feel as if you were keeping Mark’s heart chained away. Mark was gentle and the one to suggest you take things slowly, but a godawful feeling plagued you whenever reminded he was waiting for the girl he always wanted. And there was a chance you could never be that girl.
You wondered what he saw in you. What he saw in a girl so broken that she couldn’t bring herself to love anyone. Did he want to take advantage of your vulnerability? Was he the same kind of evil as the ones before him?
Love was a wager, but you had no more of yourself to give.
As you stepped inside your car, you monitored everything around you and likely quadruple-checked the backseat. Ever since that fateful day, you were hyper aware of your surroundings. You may have escaped Haechan, but that didn’t mean he would never come back to stake his claim to you.
You drove, obsessively checking your rear-view mirror. Nobody was following you, but you could never be too safe. You were more wary than usual today. There was something in the air.
Or maybe you were just extremely paranoid. That was more plausible.
You hated driving through town. There was a song on the radio and it reminded you of Winter, because she would burst out singing whenever it came on. Jaehyun would be sure to duet with her. You changed the station.
Then, you passed by a bookstore. That was where you met Ten. You remembered the very second your hands touched the same novel, fingers brushing against each other’s, and the glare you both exchanged then said loud and clear that neither of you would be backing down. But when he learned you had a copy of a book he’d been tirelessly hunting for, he let you have it and you promised to swap later.
Unbeknownst to you, Ten freaked the hell out that night when it hit him that he had unintentionally scored a very pretty girl’s number.
It was over for you when you saw the lake sitting at the side of the road. Yuta would meet you there for an afternoon jog whenever you had the spare time. Your friends would argue it was too romantic, but Yuta never gave a fuck what other people think. You were close, but he knew where you stood and Yuta would rather die than bone you.
Tears threatened. Why couldn’t you get them out of your head? The guilt was eating you alive. You wanted your life back. But you tainted the chance of normalcy the second you caught a monster’s goddamn eye.
As soon as you got home, you noticed another car parked in the driveway. Mark’s car. He asked if he could come over earlier to see you after your therapy session. You told him, “You know where the spare key is.”
It was definitely frightening, but you wanted to trust Mark. He displayed no suspicious signs, no red flags. Then again, neither did Haechan. And everyone knew how that story went.
No happy ever after.
There was an overwhelmingly strong aroma of sauces and spices hitting you square in the nose the moment you stepped inside your house and there was a trail of roses predictably leading from the front door to the dining room. You cocked a brow. Since when did Mark learn how to cook? This was the same boy that could barely make instant noodles without burning you both alive.
“Mark?” you called out.
No reply. Which was odd. Mark couldn’t wait to see you.
You hung your coat and followed the trail of rose petals as that was obviously what you were intended to do. The sound of old school romance music began to play even louder the closer you inched and you shuddered at how much it reminded you of Haechan.
When he was bored, he would turn on the speaker and sing his heart out to you, making you laugh at how he danced and gave you a five-star performance.
The memories used to make you smile fondly. Now, you were a well of unadulterated fear.
Even this specific song tore you down. Haechan loved Michael Jackson more than anyone you ever knew. As far as you were concerned, Mark was more of an old school rap guy.
You finally approached the dining room and your heart ricocheted at what you saw. There was Mark, bound to a chair with a gag in his mouth. And Haechan stood there with a twisted smile on his face as he saw you, holding a gun to Mark’s head.
“Mark,” you gasped, knees buckling.
You could hear Mark whimper faintly, though his voice was muffled. He looked at you with total fear in his eyes and you were more than apologetic, the self-loathing returning as you knew the innocent life of yet another person would ultimately be destroyed because of you.
Haechan playfully whined, “What about me? I’m here, too.”
“You fucking monster!” you screamed.
Your now ex-boyfriend switched on a dime and pointed his gun at you, sneering, “Sit down.”
With a fatal weapon pointed to you, you quickly complied, finding a seat at the table. You noticed there were two plates there, each at the head of the table. Mark was forced to sit at the side.
Because he had no part in this game. He was only another nuisance, as Haechan had put it in his own terms. Another obstacle to be eliminated. Tears stung your eyes.
Your ex was delighted by your submission and took his seat at the other end of the table, facing you, but he kept his gun tucked close. You couldn’t ignore the plates in front of you both. Only God knew how long he had been waiting for you. You knew he wanted you to play into the fantasy you’d obstructed six months ago, however, your ex-boyfriend was anything but deterred.
“I’m glad you finally made it. Mark and I were waiting for you to join us,” Haechan said, as if this was some friendly gathering and not a hostage situation. “Although, he was an unexpected guest. But it’s no biggie.”
You sat there and pleaded, “Haechan, please don’t hurt him. This has nothing to do with him. You want me? Just take me. Leave him alone.”
Haechan’s tone was lighthearted despite the betrayed nature of his words, “Wow. You like him that much? I thought I meant something to you.”
“That was before you slaughtered our friends like a beast,” you hissed, seething.
Haechan corrected, “More like a pack of wolves. Everything we do is a group effort, baby. We’re a team. We’re in this together. There is no you without me and no me without you.”
You met Mark’s eyes and instantly knew what he was thinking. This guy is a total psychopath.
He could tell this was what you had been hiding and you were aware. You had never discussed your trauma with him at length and Mark never made you feel any pressure to. Now, he understood what had you so scarred.
You called with disdain, “Donghyuck.”
Haechan ignored you calling him by his government name and changed his tone, feigning woundedness, “I can’t believe you tried to replace me, baby. You even told him where the spare key is. Did you actually think I wouldn’t come back to take what’s mine?”
“I’m not yours, Donghyuck,” you told him, words dripping with vitriol. “And I never will be again. You had your chance and you blew it.”
“How could you say that?” Haechan asked, eyes wide and dark with an emotion you had no intention of understanding. “After all I’ve done for you. All I’ve done for us so that we could be alone together. I love you so much.”
For a second, you were at a loss for words, then explained, “This isn’t love. This is obsession. You need help.”
Haechan furiously snapped, “I need you. And I will stop at nothing to have you.”
Your ex-boyfriend stood to his feet and you entirely expected hell to break loose, but you were thrown for a loop when Mark tackled him to the ground, somehow unraveling his ropes while Haechan was distracted by you.
Mark screamed at you, “Run!”
You hesitated. You didn’t want to leave Mark there alone to die. The past six months had been spent trying to recover from the blood on your hands and you couldn’t go through that torture. There was a chance you would lose another part of your sanity that you barely had as is. But Mark gave you a look and you bolted out of there.
As soon as you slipped out the front door, you heard a gunshot echoing and trembled, but you never stopped running. Your phone was in your car. You glanced around, expecting at least some of your neighbors to be concerned by the noise, though no one came.
Your brows furrowed. There were cars parked in most of the driveways and this was a notably safe neighborhood. How could nobody care?
The moment you got to your car you collapsed in relief when you saw your phone and immediately tried to dial the police, but strangely, your phone had no connection. You threw your head back frustratedly and nearly screamed at the top of your lungs.
You didn’t even want to ask what the hell was going on. Haechan had returned to resume unfinished business, and this time, he would not leave empty-handed.
Your only other option was to go find help and you felt a twinge of worry sitting in your stomach when you realized that entailed leaving Mark by himself. You had no idea what was happening - or had happened - in that house.
Without any other options, you searched for your keys and froze when you remembered that you’d left them in the pocket of your coat. Which you had hung up inside.
You heard the front door creaking open and exhaled in relief when you realized it was only Mark, escaping unscathed. For now.
Mark was heaving for breath and incredulous when he noticed you only standing there. “Why haven’t you left?”
“I left my keys inside,” you explained frantically, running into his arms. “I tried to call the police, but it didn’t work. And nobody came outside after the gunshot. I think he did something.”
Mark made a face because despite both your cars parked in the driveway, he didn’t have his keys, either. “We have to go right now. None of us were shot. He’s going to come looking for you any second now,” he said, grabbing your hand and yanking you down the street.
You could hardly match his long strides, but adrenaline gave you a surge of strength. Between your feet and your pulse, you couldn’t decide what was quicker. Your heart was thumping so loudly you swore Mark could hear.
The curiosity consumed you and you asked through ragged breath, “How’d you get out of the ropes?”
“Five years of summer camp in a row,” Mark explained. “I never thought learning how to untie knots would benefit me, but look at God.”
Noticing how tightly he was holding your hand only made you weaker. You hoped and prayed you would come out of this unscathed. Not only you, but Mark too. You couldn’t lose another person at the hands of your psychopathic ex-boyfriend. The guilt and self-hatred would consume you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I didn’t mean to drag you into this,” you cried.
“We’ll talk about this when we’re safe,” Mark told you, clearing another corner.
You heard Haechan’s smooth voice calling after you, but his tone was downright spine-chilling. He was out for blood. Mark held you closer to his chest as you both sprinted down the sidewalk, praying to god Haechan didn't know where you’d gone.
It was downright odd. Why was no one there but you three? The weather was perfect for an afternoon walk with your dog around the neighborhood, but there was nobody. Not even someone tending to their garden or taking out the trash. And how had no one bat an eye at the piercing sound of a gunshot?
Wondering if it was a coincidence or if there was something much more nefarious at work made your head spin. The emptiness was unnerving. You couldn’t comprehend how Haechan could have gotten the entire neighborhood to evacuate, but you had underestimated him once. You weren’t keen on doing so again.
Having Mark there to support your weight was the only thing keeping you from dropping to the ground in surrender. You were just so tired. You were tired of running, tired of mustering the strength to rouse another day only to be haunted by guilt and regret. It was close to consuming you. And there would nothing of you to remain. You were running on empty. Your body was exhausted, but your mind was worn thin.
“Come on,” Mark said, noticing your strength dwindling. “You can do this, baby. We can get out of here.”
Mark ground to a halt to face you and softened when he saw your eyes. He could tell this had ruined you. He would never know the girl you were before Haechan alas broke you.
There was an uncanny resemblance between now and your nightmares. Haechan was hunting you down like an animal, hot on your heels. Only now, you had Mark to protect you. But deep inside, you knew there was nothing that could stand in Haechan’s way when he wanted something.
Mark cradled you in his arms when you slept and kept the monsters under your bed away. But this was the real thing. He couldn’t save you. No one could.
It all just happened so fast.
A loud snap rended the air and the very next second, Mark was crouching on the asphalt, stomach gaping with blood. He was wide-eyed, a hand cupping his stomach.
“Mark!” you screamed.
You dropped to your knees, crouching beside him, and tried desperately to keep the blood from leaving him all too soon. But there was so much. The sight of the deep color staining your hands only made you nauseous with deja vu.
Mark was weak, still on the sidewalk. He couldn’t scream, but you could see the pain in his pretty eyes. It thoroughly devastated you.
“Don’t leave me. Please, Mark,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. But you couldn’t hear yourself speak. You couldn’t hear yourself think. You were so fixated on Mark slowly fading away beneath your fingertips that you didn’t notice the presence behind you until it was too late.
Haechan’s voice was saccharine but his eyes were welling with ire, “He’s not going to make it, darling. There’s no one out here to help him.”
You ignored Haechan, plagued by fear or hatred or all of the above. Watching Mark die would be too overwhelming. At least you had no recollection of your friend’s deaths. Seeing Mark take his final breaths would kill you too. “Keep your eyes open for me,” you told Mark, noticing he was going cold. “Keep them open!”
Mark was struggling, but he tried for you. You could feel the last piece of you die as he fought for his life and you sat there, unable to do anything to keep him stable. He was dying. He reached for your hand with his trembling arm and squeezed with all the strength he could muster.
That angered Haechan and seething with rage, he coiled his arms around you, pulling you away from Mark.
You kicked and threw your arms back, screaming at the top of your lungs, “Get your hands off me, you sick son of a bitch! You’ve taken everything from me! I fucking hate you!”
Haechan was unbothered, only cooing, “You don’t mean that, baby girl. One day you’ll understand that everything I do is out of love for you.”
Mark was coughing up blood now and the sight was horrifying. Tears rolled down your cheeks. You were in so much pain, covered in wounds only you could see. You could only imagine what Mark was feeling now as he took his last breaths.
Mark called out your name faintly and said with the last of his strength, “Thank you for being the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You screamed in agony and grief when Mark’s eyes shut on you. You begged him not to leave you. Though he was only unconscious, you knew you’d seen and heard the last of him.
Your pain was converted to anger and you thrashed in Haechan’s arms, only wanting Mark’s embrace. “Let me go,” you shouted, trying to escape. But to no avail. Your hands burned with his blood. Every inhale was agonizing. “Let go of me!”
“Shh,” Haechan whispered, swiping a trail of tears from your face. “Don’t you see? He was trying to come between us.”
Haechan still kept you close by, but finally released you. You kneeled to the ground, too overcome by dizziness to stand. Your mind was screaming at you. Your heart was pounding. Every piece of you was so dead yet alive altogether. You could only scream, wanting to take your friend’s fate for them.
Nobody heard you. There was nobody there. You cried and raged, but save for you, Haechan, and Mark’s lifeless body, the whole neighborhood was empty. You were alone in your pain and suffering and nobody would hear you cry.
“Why?” you turned to Haechan and screamed, lips trembling. “Why do you keep doing this to me?”
Haechan pressed his lips to your ear and told you with no hesitation, “Because there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Had you not already dissolved into tears, you would have. Life as you’d known it was forever gone because of this man and it had become unbearable now. There was no way you could live with yourself anymore. The guilt was overpowering. You were being self-protective, but Mark had died to protect you. Winter, Jaehyun, Yuta, and Ten had died at your expense. The feelings that plagued you now were simply too much for the human mind to handle.
Your palms hit the ground, scuffing the asphalt. Your body was limp with defeat. There was no fight in you anymore. He had broken you.
“You win,” you croaked, surrendering. “Whatever this game is, you fucking win. I can’t do this anymore.”
Haechan beamed, all too excited by those words. “I knew you would come around.”
Haechan cradled you in his arms and you let him. You had no more strength or will to fight him. He had milked you dry. You only sat there unmoving, wondering where you’d gone wrong. If this could have been avoided or if Haechan destroying your life was merely inevitable.
Pain throttled you, hands clamped bruisingly around your neck. You cried and screamed until it was out of your system and your voice no longer worked. Haechan endeavored to soothe you the whole time, stroking your back. Even your tears were precious to him. He hated to make you cry, but one day you would understand why this needed to happen.
For now, he had won. You said it yourself. There was a big grin on his face as he claimed victory.
“There, there. It’s time to go now, babe,” Haechan cooed, lifting you into his arms. He liked that you still instinctively wrapped your arms around your neck, and he stared into your eyes, in love with the beauty within them. “You’re all mine now.”
“I’m yours,” you repeated back quietly, accepting. “All yours.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek.
#haechan smut#nct 127 smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#haechan x reader#nct imagines#haechan imagines#nct x reader#nct#nct scenarios
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The Fox and the Hound
Eris Vanserra X Reader
Summary: Your relationship with Eris through the years, seen through the life of the hound he gifted you when you first began courting.
Warnings: A mix of fluff and angst. Mentions of sex. Mentions of violence/threats. Mentions of injury. Death of pet but a sweet ending.
The First meeting.
There was something sweet about your first meeting. Perhaps it was the shyness that radiated from the two of you, the soft blush which dusted across your cheeks and the way Eris clenched his sweaty palms into fists in an attempt to hide his anxiety.
The two you, whist grown adults, held the charm of two children with an innocent crush. You sat across from each other, curious eyes meeting curious eyes as your fathers discussed the terms of the betrothal. Anticipation sparking in each of your chests at the possibility that this arrangement may not be as terrible as you had first expected.
It took hours.
Hour after hour of dull, monotonous discussion. Each father trying their best to squeeze every ounce of benefit that they could from this deal. It was an arduous process. One that both you and Eris shared no interest in. Deaf to the conversation happening around you, eyes never leaving the others.
Your own wordless conversation flowing naturally, an automatic understanding settling between the two. Almost as if you were both speaking your own language, one known only by the pair of you. A level of synchronicity between you as you exchanged greetings and compliments through the glistening of your eager eyes and the soft smirks which formed upon your tender lips.
Eris needn't say a word to convey the message he was trying to send. It was an invitation. A plea for the two of you to escape the draining presence of your fathers. A subtle suggestion to leave the room so he could hear the sweet tones of your voice for the first time.
Whether or not your fathers noted the rushed manner of the way you stood, excusing yourselves from the rest of the meeting, they did not let on. The two alpha males still locked in a daring battle, both seeking more and more from the other. It made it all too easy for you and Eris to slip from the room unnoticed.
Giggling alongside each other as you fled from the scene. The Autumn Prince flashed you a charming smile as he held out an arm for you to take. Enabling him to lead you alongside him until you had exited the Forest House. The male leading you towards an outbuilding, the building from which a cacophony of barks and growls sounded from.
"This isn't where you tell me that I'm not actually a bride. That this whole agreement was just so you could have some poor innocent damsel to feed to your dogs?"
Eris smiled at your joke, at the way you had failed to hide the anxiety which laced your voice. He continued to lead you towards the kennels, bringing his free hand to comfortingly rest against yours which was wrapped around his bicep.
"They're hounds," he corrected, a cocky smirk finding its home on his handsome face, "And I wouldn't dare feed them someone as pretty as you. It would be such a waste of beauty."
It was impossible to hide the deep red blush which flourished on your cheeks, eyes nervously attempting to avoid the intensity of his admiring gaze.
Trying to quell the rising heat in your face, you battled your flushed embarrassment with another joke, "Isn't it how a boy wastes his time? Playing with dogs...hounds?"
The two of you slowed your approach as you rounded on the solid oak doors. The heavy metal lock rattling with the force of the dogs pounding against the other side of the doors.
"I can assure you, my future bride, that my hounds are bred for far greater things than simply playing," he notes your fearful gulp as you flinch at a particular violent bang to the door, "And I can also tell you that my hounds are the finest in all of Prythian. You needn't worry, they wont hurt you. Not whilst I'm here."
You weren't sure whether it was the sincerity of his words or the confidence that welled in his amber eyes but you believed him. Finding yourself relaxing as he dropped your arm in order to unlock the door, satisfied that Eris would not allow any harm to befall you.
He twisted the key in the lock, dropping the heavy padlock and chains to the floor as he cast his gaze back to you, seeking some form of approval to reassure him that you were fine with this, allowing you to know that he would never force you into a situation that you didn’t want to be in.
Heart feeling full due to his compassion and thoughtfulness, you willed yourself to nod confidently. Determined that if Eris were to be your future husband and caring for his hounds were his passion, you would learn to love them in the same way the male did.
With a firm pull of the handle the door opened, hound after hound pouring out from the open doors. Each giddy pup jumping up to excitedly greet their master before a few brave ones curiously made their way over to you. Big noses snuffling at your feet, neglecting to jump at you in the way they did their master, no doubt sensing the remaining traces of fear which you had failed to flush from your system.
Opting to take the leap yourself, noting how Eris's searching eyes were observing the situation, whether to make sure his hounds didn't try anything or he was simply curious as to how you would react, you sunk to your knees on the ground in order to stroke the hounds which circled you.
A joyous laugh escaping from your lips as they saw your action as an invitation to huddle around you, overwhelming you with gentle licks and playful nibbles.
If only your father could see you now - you thought. Your pristine dress filthened by the damp ground you were knelt on, hands and arms covered in the slimy sheen of their saliva as they eagerly laid affectionate licks wherever they could.
Pleased, Eris contentedly watched the scene from where he was stood. Admiring the outpouring of love his usually reserved hounds were showing you. His heart told him that this was a sign from the mother, your already flourishing bond with his pups was surely an indication that the two of you were meant to be.
Only when their excitement of meeting a new person decreased, and the hounds had begun to wander off, inquisitive noses buried in the ground as they followed the trails of scents which interested them, did Eris then approach you.
Holding out a strong hand so he could help you up from where you were collapsed on the ground, the pups having knocked you onto your bottom from their enthusiasm.
"I'd say that went well" he mused, his amber gaze raking your body as he took in the little tears and muddied stains from your time on the ground, "You may need another dress though. Not to worry, I'll make sure you have plenty of those as my wife."
Thrilled with the child-like excitement that being surrounded by his dogs had brought you, you exclaimed, "Oh Eris they're amazing. Can we come here every day?"
"Every hour if that is what you wished," he smiled. Eris nodded his head towards the open kennels, beginning to drag you towards the building, "Come on there's something I want to show you."
The two of you made your way into the empty kennels, your curious eyes taking in your surroundings as you wonder what it is exactly that Eris wanted to show you. The answer becoming clear as he pulled you to a stop at a large doghouse, bending down to peer inside. "Here" he whispered quietly, gesturing you to drop down to the same level.
You bent down next to him, squinting through the opening of the house, trying to make out the figures which wriggled in the darkness. Before your eyes could even focus, one of said figures bounded out from where it was hidden and flopped into your lap.
You cast your gaze downwards, eyes blowing wide with awe at the sight of the small puppy which was digging into your lap in an attempt to seek some warmth.
A cry broke from your lips, a sound of appreciation, lip pouting as you brushed a gentle finger along it's tiny head. Eyes beginning to water at the sheer cuteness of the creature before you.
"You like her?" Eris asked, his own hand coming to lovingly rub at the scruffy patch of fur on the pup's head.
"Like her? I love her! Eris she's so sweet!"
"Good" he grinned, "Because she's yours. Consider it a betrothal gift."
You couldn't contain the squeal of happiness which broke from your lips, surprised eyes flashing to the male who was sat looking at you and the pup with unbridled joy.
"For me?" you asked in disbelief, of all the gifts you had ever received this by far had to be the best one.
"Well only if you want her. And she'll need training and walks. I'm not sure if you'd want her for hunting but I'm sure she'd be happy to keep you company whenever I'm gone. And she'll need a name of course."
"Darling" you answer immediately, there was no doubt in your heart that that was her name. For that was what she was, her little face, her small paws, her reddish coat. Every inch of her was darling.
"Darling is perfect" Eris agrees, his hand which had been brushing the pups head coming to hold your hand sweetly. This would be the first of what would be many affectionate touches in your relationship to come.
The night time cuddles - And a very jealous Eris.
It wasn't unusual for Eris to sneak into your bedroom to see you. Whilst you were betrothed, the rules of courting did not permit the two of you to be left unchaperoned in a room. Your father had made this point clear to you after discovering you alone with the Autumn prince in the kennels after he had gifted you Darling.
But Eris wasn't one to follow the rules.
He was constantly finding excuses as to why he urgently had to see you in your room. You left a hairpin at the breakfast table. You had forgotten to give him a review of the latest book you had finished. It slipped his mind earlier, when the two of you were sharing a supervised walk in the gardens of the Forest House, just how beautiful Eris thought you were in the new dress he had bought you.
Yet this, Eris appearing at your door, when the sun had already set and the moon was far into its nightly journey, was unusual.
Being caught alone together during the day was one thing - but at night? You shuddered at the thought of the punishment your father would deliver.
"Eris, what are you doing?" You hissed in a low whisper as the male pulled the door to after him.
"I haven't seen you today," he reasoned, hand coming to rest against your cheek as he absorbed the natural beauty of your tired features, "I'm sorry I was caught in meetings most of the day but I just had to see you before I went to bed."
That inescapable blush which appeared whenever you were around the Autumn prince burned your cheeks, a pleased smile making its way onto your lips at the thought of the male being unable to make it one day without your presence.
A stubborn nudge to his leg and an angry yelp had Eris removing his hand so he could bend down and greet a disgruntled Darling, "Yes, yes. I haven't forgotten about you sweetheart. Been behaving well for your mother?"
"Well I was sure it was the end for her today when she bit your brother when he came in for breakfast."
"Damnit" Eris smirked, his evil eyes flashing to your amused ones, "Why do I always miss the good things?"
"Hmm," you hummed in thought, "he seemed fairly convinced that you had been training her to do so."
If possible, his smirk grew even wider, "I have no idea what you mean."
You rolled your eyes at your future husband, retreating to your bed as you yawned at the lateness of the hour at which he had arrived.
"You can't be tired yet!" He argued, words filled with exasperation as Darling ran after you to chase you to the bed where you had laid down, "I just got here!"
"It's not my fault it's so late!" you fought back, gesturing to the window where the moon was high in the sky, "You could...I mean you'd have to be gone by morning of course…But if you wanted to?"
Your eyes flicker to the empty spot on the bed next you you before flashing back to Eris's. Hope flooding your pupils.
"I mean, I can't deny my future wife can I? I've heard terrifying stories about men who said no to their wives."
He obediently crawled onto the other half of your bed as he spoke. Making his way up the mattress until he was level with you.
"Perhaps..." he started, his lips dangerously close to yours, "Perhaps I can finally allow myself to feel the soft touch of your lips," his eyes flicker down to your body, "or feel the soothing heat from your bare skin. Maybe if I’m lucky I could hear your desperate cries as I make you call my name, over and over again."
Your breath caught in your throat, eager eyes boring into Eris's amber ones which were burning with lust. Releasing a shaky breath you cast them to his red lips, eyes beginning to close as you lean in.
Until the forceful shove of Darling tore the two of you apart. The small hound wriggling her way in-between the two of you, tail wagging ferociously with her desire for attention.
You laugh sweetly, hand coming to rub her ears as she happily burrowed against your body. Eris on the other hand, allowed his brows to knit together in a deep frown, his once puckered lips downturned at the sight before him.
"Sorry Eris," you giggled at his disappointment, "You are in Darling's spot and she had been in my bed many more times than you have."
His brows furrowed deeper, lips moving into a pout, "But she's had you all day! It's not fair!"
"I'm sorry dear," you shrugged, allowing your pup to dictate exactly what happens in your room, "Darling has spoken. It's ok, she gives great cuddles, I'm sure you'll sleep soundly."
Your words did nothing to improve the Prince's mood. In fact, the reminder that your pup had spent more hours nestled against you in a warming embrace than he has only made him more miserable.
"Maybe next time" you grinned, loving eyes focused on the now sleeping form of Darling.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you give better cuddles my Prince.”
The wedding.
You met in private. The two of you making your way to the old oak tree hidden in the security of the Autumn Court's forest. Lucien had joined you at Eris's request, the male trailing after you, a doting Darling close at his heels.
You had come to make your vows in your own terms. Neither you nor Eris wanting to share this moment with the thousands of uncaring guests Beron had invited to your wedding. Strangers who knew nothing about how deeply yours and Eris’s affection ran.
No, you wanted to exchange them in the privacy of each other's company, his brother joining as your witness. An eager Darling not wanting to miss out on the excitement.
So here you were, dressed in a simple white dress. Standing hand in hand with the male you had grown to love, covered by the shade of the oak tree.
"Well I can't say I've ever married someone before," Lucien stated as he scratched his red hair in thought, "I guess you just...say your vows?"
Eris rolled his eyes at his clueless brother, "You'd think when we asked you to do this you would have consulted a book brother or even a prince. Don’t you have plenty of them in the spring court?"
Knowing that the two males could spit retorts to each other for days on end, you made the easy decision of choosing to speak your vows first, "Alright. You guys can stop, I'll go first!"
You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts, worried that words could never do justice to the way you felt about Eris.
"Eris, I think I have loved you from the moment I met you. It wasn't hard, you make it so easy to be loved. You are not only the kindest male I have ever met, but the most thoughtful. Your compassion and the love you hold for everyone, and every thing, in your court is inspiring. And I am the luckiest woman alive to be blessed with your presence and the honour that I can soon call myself your wife. I have loved you since I first laid eyes on you and I promise that I will continue to do so until we're nothing but the ash remaining from the inferno that is our love."
Tears sparkled in Eris's eyes, his grip on your hands increasing in an attempt to ground himself. Even Lucien bore a soft grin at the sight before him, at the happiness that his brother had found for himself in you.
"And I, Little fox," Eris started, his voice cracking as he spoke, "I never thought I'd be lucky enough to deserve a life like this. I've always assumed I was just like my father and was resigned to a life just as miserable as his. But being here, being with you, I know I can allow myself to feel as though I've earned this. Earnt your love. And I will spend the rest of my days proving to you just how devoted I am, just how much I was made for you as you were made for me. You are my other half. My beginning and my end. And I love you."
You choked back a gleeful sob, your own eyes glistening with tears as the two of you looked to Lucien expenctantly.
"What?...Oh! Oh right. You, uh, you many kiss the bride."
And Eris did just that. Connecting his lips with yours. His shuddering breath meeting your lips as he sealed his against yours. Moving them against each other in a passionate dance, arms flying around each other's body in search of some support. The two of you getting lost in the moment, losing yourselves in the heat of your embrace, acting as though it was just the two of you, locked in this scene for an eternity.
Until there was a rude awakening in the form of Darling leaping up at you. Her muddy paws leaving streaks of dirt down your pure white fabric of your dress. Reluctantly pulling away from Eris, you bobbed down to give her a loving stroke, pleased that she got to share in the moment with you. She was a part of your family after all.
Lucien, red-faced and blushing, broke the silence, "I guess I'm looking after her tonight then?"
"Yes!" You and Eris eagerly replied in glee.
The intruder
It was late. The world was sleeping along with the sun. Eris was away, visiting another court. Which led you to where you were now, sound asleep in your joint chambers, Darling cuddled up against your body. The two of you breathing deeply as you dreamed.
Yet not everyone was asleep. Night was the time for criminals and wrongdoers to crawl out from the depths. Sinister people who chose to act under the cover of darkness, skillfully hiding between the shadows which blanketed the court.
And tonight they had come for you. Of course choosing the one night that Eris wasn't here to protect you.
It was the rattle of your door handle which stirred Darling from her slumber. The hound curiously jumping off the bed and padding to the door, hoping that her other master had returned from his travels.
Only she didn't scent the usual crackling fire or roasting chestnuts. Instead a putrid smell of soured milk and fermented fish wafted to her nose.
Her fur stood on end. Baring her teeth as she released a low growl, the sound being enough to draw you from your dreams. Sitting up in bed and noticing the precarious way Darling was stood at your door.
"Darls?" You questioned, your worlds slurred through the thick coat of sleep which was still wrapped around you, "Come back to bed girl."
She didn't move. Muscles still tense as she stared at the door which you had only just noticed was banging softly. If Darling wasn't so on edge you would have passed it off as wind. Though the dogs anxious demeanour and the lack of a howling gale blowing against your windows had your body filling with dread.
The doors burst open, clattering against the walls from the force at which they did so. A dark figure entered, crazed eyes locked on your shaking form as they advanced.
You froze, unsure of what to do. Cursing yourself for never taking up Eris’s offer on learning how to fight, for being so sure that the need for that skill would never arise and that if it did Eris would be there to protect you.
But Eris wasn’t here. And as you stared into the cold, unforgiving eyes of your intruder fear flooded your system. Thoughts swimming around your mind at the possibility that these could be your last moments. That you’d never see your husband again. That he’d come home from his trip and find your mangled body sprawled across the bed.
Your panic increasing, you shook yourself awake, needing to be prepared to put up a fight. Jumping out of the sheets as quickly as possible so you could stand and draw your hands into shaky fists.
Ready to act.
But you needn’t do so. For as the man crossed the threshold Darling was already on him.
Her sharp teeth finding their home in the flesh of his arm. Rabid growls leaving her mouth as she tugged and thrashed at the limb trapped between her teeth. Blood poured from the man’s arm, screams of pain escaping from his throat. Legs pathetically flailing as he tried to kick her from him.
It didn’t take long at all for Darling to wrestle him to the ground. The whites of her eyes bulging in a way you had never seen, your dog never before having the need to show this amount of aggression to anyone.
She continued to ravage the man, tearing at his arm as he continued his attempts to bat her away.
Anger coursed through your body at the sight of the kicks and punches he was delivering to your dog. Your baby. And so you make to run forwards, to aid Darling with what little strength you had.
Yet once more you were saved by another.
Eris burst into the room, sword in hand. You were too stunned by his sudden appearance to try and make sense of how he was here, how he could have possibly known what was happening.
Upon his arrival, Eris was swift to finish the job. A still feral Darling coming to stand in front of you protectively. Blocking your view of the scene before you, hiding the figure of Eris stabbing his sword through the man’s gut.
When the deed was done, Eris made to come towards you, wanting nothing more than to rush to your side in order to make sure you were ok.
But Darling wouldn’t allow it.
Baring her blood-stained teeth at her master. Snarling as he tried to lay a calming hand on her. Refusing to let your husband come anywhere near you.
“It’s ok Darling” you soothed, stroking along her back, bringing her back to reality, allowing the cloud of fear to clear from her eyes as she saw who was before her. Inhaling his familiar sent. It was her family.
“It’s over Darling” you whispered into her ear as you pulled her into a hug, “my brave, brave girl. You did so well.”
The baby
“Oh Eris, let her in. She’s scratching at the door!”
It had been a long labour. The efforts of which had drained a lot of energy from you, leaving you exhausted, pale and sweaty.
But it was worth it. Every minute of pain. You would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant getting to hold the little bundle of joy which was currently held against your chest.
A little baby girl.
A beautiful daughter who already had a small little head of red hair to match her father’s. Her little fingers clinging onto your body as you cradled her.
Your husband, eyes full of love sat at the edge of the bed, admiring the beauty of the moment. His tiny, healthy baby. His magnificent, strong wife.
Yet to you, one thing was missing from the picture.
Your poor little hound had been kicked out of the room by Eris at the first signs of your labour. Your husband claiming you didn’t need any distractions, that Darling would get in the way.
But you could see it. The underlying glint of anxiety in his eyes, the already fierce desire had had to protect his newborn daughter. Worried of what could happen if he let an excitable Darling into the room, what havoc she would cause.
He didn’t mean to think that way, you knew Eris loved Darling dearly. But you also knew that this was a big change for Eris.
That he wanted to be a good father. That he wanted to be different from his own.
With the distraction your labour brought, where Darling was or what she was doing didn’t cross your mind. But now all you could hear was her incessant scratching and whining at your door and you wanted nothing more than for your pup to meet the new member of your family.
“Please Eris” you begged, a tired hand stretching across the bed in an attempt to reach your husband’s, “Let her in.”
The male sighed, rising from where he was sat. He placed a gentle kiss against your forehead before making his way to the door. Only opening it slightly before he caught Darling as she ran inside, sweeping her into his strong arms.
It was a sight to behold, your giant, wriggling hound in Eris’s sturdy grip. Darling had been much too big for you to pick up for years now, and Eris definitely looked as though he was struggling to do so now as well.
He perched back onto the end of the bed, arms tight around Darling, his stern voice berating her, “No Darling! Calm down, gently now. Gently.”
You smiled, a warming wide smile. Your heartstrings twinging at the sight. Everybody you loved was here, sat together on your bed.
Darling managed to wriggle her way out of Eris’s grip, the male cursing as she did so. Her spritely form running up the bed until she came to rest against you. Slowly laying her head against your stomach as her wide eyes took in the child against your breast.
“This is Eva, Darling” you smiled, introducing the hound to your baby.
She didn’t jump. Didn’t push her sniffling nose as close to the babe as she could. Instead Darling just laid in silent contentment, her curious eyes never leaving your daughter for a minute. She needn’t have the ability to speak for you to know what your pup was thinking, to know that in this very moment her heart had grown two times as big.
To know that she had just met her new best friend.
The terrible two’s
“Oh cauldron, Eva get back here!” You chased after your daughter, her little feet carrying her through the halls at a pace you didn’t expect a two year-old would have.
“Eva!”
Whilst running may appear to be her speciality listening was not.
As much as you loved your daughter, there were some days where you just felt utterly exhausted. Unable to keep up with her energetic soul and curious demeanour.
Spending more of your time chasing after her than anything else.
Yet thankfully, even on days like these where Eris was stuck in meeting after meeting, you always had help.
Your little Darling was never far behind Eva. The hound glued to her side wherever you went. You thought Eris was an overprotective brute, but Darling coddled her as if she was her own.
Eva never went anywhere without Darling, and Darling never went anywhere without Eva.
The hound ran down the corridor after the giggling toddler. Her head nudging Eva back up whenever she stumbled or fell, allowing the girl to grip uncomfortably tight onto her fur for support. Nose lightly pushing your daughter to the side whenever she was about to run into someone in the hallway.
Darling may not have been raised to hunt like all of Eris’s other hounds, but clearly her expertise lay in raising children. Her heightened instincts which would have allowed her to easily track prey, were what enabled her to keep up with the toddler so well.
Eris liked to joke that if Eva spent any more time around the dog she’d begin to act like one. That her increasingly mischievous personality was unbecoming of an Autumn Court Princess. You liked to joke that Eva acted just as wild as her father did.
You were panting by the time you caught up to the pair, a slight sheen of sweat across your forehead as you scooped your squealing daughter into your arms. Darling jumping up and barking along, wanting to join in on the fun.
“Come on girlies” you beamed, continuing to walk towards your destination, “let’s go find Daddy.”
Eva happily babbled away at the sound of his name, bouncing in your arms as you made your way towards Eris’s office, hoping to catch him having a break in-between meetings.
You tap at his door, pressing your ear against the wood in order to better hear. “Come in” his tired voice rings out.
Opening the door, Darling bounds into the room, leaping into your husband’s lap, a smile forcing its way onto his face at the action, hands absentmindedly scratching behind the hound’s ears.
He must have noticed the slightly disheveled state you’re in, taking in your appearance before letting out a teasing snort, “tough day Little Fox? You can go and sit in my next meeting and I’ll look after our girls if you prefer.”
“I think I’ve got the better end of the stick here my love.”
The man huffed in disappointment, though his mood lightened slightly when you passed a giggling Eva into his arms, resting her butt on Darling’s body as he bounced her up and down as he cooed.
“You can take her into the meeting with you if you wish. I’m sure your father wouldn’t mind his Granddaughter running around, maybe if she tires him out as much as she has me it’ll be a short meeting.”
“She’s really run you ragged huh?” Eris asks, he attempts to keep his words light and hearty but you noticed the flicker of concern which flashed in his eyes.
“Not just her” you reasoned, “And not just the fact that I had to chase after Darling in the woods this morning because she saw a squirrel. It’s actually…ah-”
Your sentence was interrupted by a knock at the door. Eris’s brother stepping inside his office without needing to hear any acknowledgement of his knock. His full eyes looked to you before boredly travelling to his brother, “Your late Eris. Father won’t wait much longer.”
Your husband nodded at his brother, dismissing him as he stood from his chair with a sigh, Darling jumping off of his lap. “What was it you had to say Little Fox?” He asked whilst passing Eva to you.
“Nothing, nothing don’t worry,” you brushed him off, knowing that what you had to tell your husband required more time, “I’ll tell you tonight.”
It was a torturously long wait. His meetings having run on for more than half the day. Night had fallen, and Eva had curled up to sleep alongside Darling, the two snoring softly. Yet your anxiety didn’t allow you to sleep, not until Eris came back.
Once he did arrive, he bore dark circles under his eyes and his posture was slouched, you almost thought about waiting another day before telling him the news.
But then you saw the way his eyes lit up when he cast his gaze upon his daughter and your dog. The never ending love which poured from his eyes made it too difficult to resist. You didn’t even say hello to the man before you blurted out, “I’m pregnant Eris!”
He turned to you, tiredness slipping from his eyes as a combination of shock and joy flooded into them, “yeah?”
“Yes!” You cried, unable to stop the tears which leaked from your eyes, throwing yourself into your husband’s tender embrace, “we’re having another child.”
He cheered in glee, picking up your body in glee and spinning you around, yelps leaving both your lips as you slapped his chest and cursed him, “Shhhh, you’re going to wake her! It took long enough to get her to sleep!”
The two of you looked over to where your sleeping daughter was laid, smile adorning both your faces as you saw a cheerful Darling looking right back at you. Her gentle head resting on Eva’s stomach as her tail batted happily back and forth.
Almost as if she knew the news which you had shared between you. As if she knew what was coming next. Who was coming next.
The goodbye
An unfortunate circumstance. That’s what the doctor called it. It was her time to go.
Eris had called him to your chambers immediately, the second Darling had slumped in exhaustion and refused to wake back up.
She was old. That was true. But there was something about her that had you convinced she would live forever. She had always been here, for as long as you had been in Autumn, and now you would have to try and live on without her.
You were in a state. Not even the comfort of your two beautiful children could quell the grief which had found its home inside of you.
Their presence, while appreciated, failed to fill the Darling shaped hole which had grown in your heart in her absence.
You weren’t sure how long it had been since that day on the floor of your room, cradling your best friend as she drifted into her final sleep. Each day seeming to all blur into one. Every one more dull than the last. Your source of enjoyment had gone.
Yet Eris seemed to have had enough. He was familiar with the grief that came along after the loss of a pet. He has experienced it more times than he could count, having lived for centuries and loosing just as many pups for years he had been alive.
Your husband had decided you can’t go on like this, that something had to be said. You already knew it was coming right from the moment he sat down onto the bed, comforting hand moving to hold yours.
“I know it’s hard,” he spoke slowly and concisely, as if he had rehearsed exactly what needed to be said, “I know it feels like you’ll never be happy again. But you will. The reminders you look to now which cause you pain will soon bring you joy. Will bring you thanks, will make you grateful for the time you got to have with her.”
Your tears which had been spilling for the past few days stopped at the words your husband was saying. Your ears twitching as you took in every word he was saying. He saw your peaked attention as a sign to continue.
“You’ll see her everywhere. In the forests she used to run in, the halls, your bed, Eva, Lucerys, me. You’ll see her everywhere but you’ll be able to look and smile because you were fortunate enough to have shared those memories with her. You’ll never forget her. No one’s asking you to. But it’s time to move on.”
“It’s hard” you cried, the pain in your chest felt as though it would never leave. That it had built its home there and that’s where it would stay.
“I know,” he consoled, soft hand coming to brush against your cheek, “no one said it’s not hard. But you just have to be strong. For me. For the kids. For Darling.”
He was right of course. He annoyingly always seemed to be. But you understood what he was telling you, what he was asking of you.
That you did need to move on. But moving on didn’t mean that you had to forget. And you never would.
The new beginning
“Mum! Mum come look! Come on!” Lucerys called for you. Now taller and faster than you it took him very little effort to drag you through the halls as he ran. You chased after him, wondering what could be so urgent.
He led you outside, his hand still entwined with yours as he slowed his pace after noticing how you were struggling to keep up.
It was only now he had slowed that you were able to properly look at your son, at his long red hair, at the beaming smile across his face, at the spark of joy in his eyes as he led you to the kennels.
It had taken you a long time to come here after losing Darling. But once you did you had immediately found yourself at home, surrounded by a dozen other hounds who you loved just as dearly. Your time being spent with your son who held the same affinity with animals as his father, the two of you opting to spend most of your free time tending after your husband’s hounds together.
“She’s had the pups mum!” He exclaimed as he led you inside, hand pulling yours until the two of you reached the back of the kennel where Eva was doting over the mother hound. A litter of newborn puppies suckling at her.
You didn’t fight the tear which fell from your eye, nor the twinge of pain caused from the plucking of one of your heartstrings. You allowed yourself to feel the pain as you looked to their reddish coats and their small paws. You allowed yourself to be reminded of Darling. To grieve for what you had lost all those years ago.
Lucerys helped you to sit, excitedly bringing you with him to the floor as you admired the small puppies. Your son passing you one of the small hounds, which had started to cry as it was moved from its mother. Yet it fell silent once it had reached the warmth of your hands.
That old familiar glow settled in your chest. The rekindling of a love you once felt so strongly. A blissful smile crossing your face as you took in its dear little face.
“That one’s for you mum” Eva smiled, her bright eyes locking with your watery ones, “you can name her whatever you want. She’s all yours.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: I know this took a very sad turn but this piece means a lot me so I really hope you guys like it!
#acotar#fanfic#acotar imagine#sarah j maas#eris vanserra oneshot#eris vanserra imagine#eris oneshot#eris vanserra x reader#eris imagine#eris acotar#eris x reader#eris vanserra
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