#and I like passed out when they tried to take my blood and then threw up?? like I got Sick but the next day I was fine

[multimilfs]

Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader: The Reigning Game, Chapter (7/?)

Chapter 7 - Stone's Embrace

Summary: Traveling into the Eastern Pass brings old friends and with them, new fears.

AO3

Words: 11.8k

A/N: This chapter was the hardest for me to get written, but it is hands down my favorite so far. It also contains my favorite scene I've ever written for this story.

I have a LOT more to say but I threw it into the end-note on AO3! So if you'd like to read that, you'll find it all there. Enjoy :)

Tag List: @escapetodreamworld @multifandomfix @ghostsunderstoodmysoul @imtrashinflames @thatmacrameisnotgonnahitchitself @thoroughly--confused @white--lillies @h-doodles @vii-v @anxiousgoldengirl @shinkomiii @danvers97

Warning(s): Blood, Mild body-horror, Self-harming behavior, Knives

Previous Chapters

“How can I begin anything new with all of yesterday in me?”  L. Cohen 

Stones warmed by the sun wait, but for what is undivined. The citadel paths are absent of any traffic save for the movements of one witch. As she wanders the length of the eastern wall, she closes her eyes, savoring the light and heat sinking into her skin. 

Her feet traverse the distance, the divots and grooves in the path like silent beacons guiding her forward. Then, she feels it—the missing stone, the one that tries her right ankle.

Beside a window-like gap in the wall, she opens her eyes.

No crowds fill the streets of The Cradle today. Below, there are a few stragglers—wanderers, like her—but they don’t tarry long, not when there is warmth to be found indoors. All is quiet.

The only bit of noise is visual; the proud, gray castle on the horizon, standing with its tattered banner still just hanging on. Most have fallen by now, the once-blue fabric collected and dropped on the citadel steps to be burned. Yet the last still remains clinging to the lowermost spire.

“Maiden Calderu.”

It is not the title that prompts her flinch—though it will always sting—but the voice, belonging to one such witch that Lilia had prayed to never again see. Yet, Chaos has a funny sense of humor.

She turns, ever the picture of poise, “Mother Elara.”

The witch has not changed a day. Still with her wide, sharp jaw and gray eyes, mouth pinched in a scowl so fierce Lilia’s not sure she has ever smiled. Her navy robes, near black even in the sun, cast a sickly look over her skin.

She could have been identical to her sister, had she possessed even half of her grace.

“Fair meeting. I did not expect any to linger today.”

The words are even, monotone.

“Fair meeting. There is work that requires my eye, I’m afraid.” Lilia says.

A mean upturn of her lips, “Greater than the joy of Light’s day, Maiden Calderu?”

Lilia cannot help it, but she sticks out her chin, unwilling to stoop an inch. She folds her hands behind herself to hide the flares of yellow.

“I work so others may know peace on such days.”

“Ever the nimble servant of the people.”

“Such is my duty.”

“Duty.” Elara chuckles.

The weight of the castle looms at Lilia’s back, casting an impossible shadow. Elara eyes her like she can see how it stains Lilia’s soul.

A shift in stance sees the light catching on the pendant around Elara’s neck; that damning silver sword. Sighting it alone turns her stomach. Its weight has always pressed against her neck, but now she feels how it threatens to pierce through the heart of her.

That would no doubt please Elara to see.

“Might I be of any service to you?” Lilia offers.

Any trace of amusement is wiped from the witch’s face. Her eyes are hard as stone—harder.

“No. You’ve done enough.”

Lilia does not tremble, but it is a near thing, “Good day, then, Mother Elara.”

“Good day, Maiden Calderu.”

Retracing her steps away from the spot and back to the citadel center, she holds her shoulders taught, head high. Yet she deflates the second she reaches the winding staircase taking her down. Once safely inside her lonely office, she slumps against the door.

There’s an ache in her chest she can never fully forget. A deep, gnawing wound that won’t heal. Her legs tremble.

A beating of wings and the click of talons on stone draw her from the feeling. Tight, greying curls are pushed back and away from her face. She pales.

“No.”

Yet Aquila flutters into the room regardless. She settles on the edge of Lilia’s desk, leg baring her letter held out. Lilia flinches. She pushes off from the door, but doesn’t approach the desk, choosing to walk around it.

“Beat it.”

No movement beyond the tilt of the raven’s head. Then, a warble.

Lilia’s hands are fists at her side, “Tell her I could not be found. Tell her anything. There are some things time cannot erase.”

The response that earns her is scolding. Aquila shakes her leg until the ribbon unravels, the letter sliding over the desk to rest atop the papers there.

Lilia stares, eyes missing nothing. Magic clings to the letter and she tilts her head; Agatha’s magic, yet unlike what she remembers.

Aquila ruffles her wings, impatient.

Throwing her hands up, a muttered complaint is issued to the Divine Mother. She searches for anything to offer the raven that will satisfy and send her on her way.

She comes to an abrupt stop, eyes closing. Aquila waits. Lilia’s hand snaps toward a drawer she’s sure hasn’t been touched in ages. It opens to reveal no small amount of dust and old parchment, among it all a large beetle scuttling for cover—the second Aquila sights it, she pounces. The exoskeleton cracks in her beak.

As the raven enjoys the fruits of her nagging, Lilia is frozen, stuck and staring at the hand that moved. The old wisp of magic that’s eluded her for centuries is… real, tangible. She grasped it as if it had always been so clear.

She shakes her head. Curls bob around her face, the movement grounding, yet her mind still wanders. Light help her, she cannot be considering this.

Eyes follow every movement.

Lilia shoves down the wayward desires of her past and schools her features, “I will not see her.”

Aquila bows her head. A beat, a flash, and she is gone.

--

“We await your order on when to march, Your Majesty.”

For all the snarking and teasing she does, Agatha does pay attention. Her gaze is sharp. So when your eyes glaze over at Captain Thena’s words, she notices; just as she had noticed you could barely stomach part of breakfast, and the sallow pallor of your skin.

“On the hour.” Agatha answers in your stead.

She senses the flare of suspicion in the Captain’s mind. True to her training, she only nods and bows, walking off to relay the order.

You sigh and relax back into your seat.

“I’ve been told I’m excellent in bed,” Agatha drawls, eyes alight with mischief, “but rendering a woman speechless even days later is new. I’m flattered.”

She braces for the snap of your eyes to hers, that delicious fury that she can taste in the air. She welcomes the twist of your beautiful face into something like a sneer.

Will you rattle off some small insult for her to twist, or level her with your wit, forcing her onto the back foot? Her magic itches in her skin at the anticipation.

When your eyes snap to her’s, her magic crows with delight. But your emotion is muted. You look at her as if looking through.

You wave a hand, “Is there anywhere you don’t find flattery?”

Agatha’s magic quails at the lack of fight.

“Of course not. I possess the advantage of being superior in all aspects of life, I’ve grown used to it.”

No change. No challenge. Something like fear grips her heart.

She reaches out with her magic, skimming your mind. It’s the same makeup of indecipherable color and shape that she’s unable to grasp. Though, it’s muted. Pulses of what should be emotion bring only waves of numbness.

If anger isn’t working, she has to pivot. The usual choice would be to prod your never-ending well of grief, but it seems that something already has. That leaves… care.

Agatha slips into the role. It’s a relief to find that it’s easier this time around.

“Dear,” she waits until you look at her, “talk to me.”

An opening, a lifeline. She doesn’t really want to hear a woe-is-me monologue, but if that’s what she has to endure to fix whatever this is then fine. Never let it be said she is incapable of doing the hard work.

Something shifts���a flicker, really. It’s enough to soothe her.

“I’m going to die.” You say, hollow.

She raises a brow, “Everyone dies eventually.”

You shake your head.

“After these fourteen days, She’s going to kill me.”

The words settle over Agatha like something comfortable; too comfortable, like an inescapable truth, and it chafes. It awakens something primal. She feels like an animal being backed into a corner.

She wracks her brain for the proper, wifely thing to say. Empty words displaying affection should do the trick—if she can pinpoint the right ones. Not without going through me would be the closest to the truth of the matter. I won’t allow it would also be truthful, even appeal to whatever skittish part of you is seeking reassurance of safety.

Instead, what comes out is;

“No one gets to kill you but me.”

Agatha’s statement cracks like a whip. Upon impact, she freezes. You’re going to fall to pieces in her hands and then she’s going to have more of a mess to deal with.

You freeze. Your eyes snap back to Agatha, full of fire.

Oh, good girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t play coy, dear, it doesn’t suit you.”

“Coy?” You echo, lip curling deliciously, “We’ll see how coy I am when I bury a knife in your chest.”

“Promise?”

The first thing you can close your fist around, you grab, and aim. Agatha sidesteps the too-wide swing. Her magic purrs in her veins. God, you’re glowing with rage; it’s almost enough to make her eyes roll back in her head.

A dagger is eased from beneath your pillow and stops her up short. That hadn’t been there when she checked.

You advance on her in a few quick steps. Agatha’s eyes don’t leave the dagger, which is why she misses the kick until it lands against her knee, straightening her leg with a crack that reverberates and unsettles her footing. She snaps her fingers before she can fall and feels the weightlessness of travel.

Smugness of being poised for the kill settles in her as she reforms at your back. But it withers when your smoldering eyes are already there, locked on hers, with the tip of your dagger at her throat.

She should really stop underestimating you.

“Impressive,” her voice comes out more husky than she intends, “but you can’t kill me.”

“Not yet.”

“Not ever. Unless, you meet me at my level.”

Agatha leans into the tip of your dagger until she feels the warmth of her own blood. A small moan escapes.

She waits for realization to strike. Your eyes are so bright this close, thoughts passing behind them, searching her own. Agatha grins. You’re so close. Your brows furrow.

Come on.

Your eyes widen. She blinks, and the expression is gone; the knowing gone with it. You’re just as wary and confused as you’ve always been.

“I’m afraid I like being above you too much.”

The dagger is hidden in your skirts as you pull away and move to exit the tent, though not before snapping at her to pack everything away so you can leave on time. Agatha watches you go without a word.

Her purple rears its head. It itches inside her, begging to be free and aimed at your retreating back, to poke and prod until it brings forth and consumes what she knows you’re hiding. Just one little fight couldn’t hurt… could it? 

Agatha muzzles it.

She snarls and packs up the royal tent with a wave of her blackened hands as her mind works. Something is plaguing you enough to make you numb, near-negligent; a dangerous thing to be in these circumstances. And negligence is one thing Agatha can’t allow. Not when it comes to you.

--

The barrier ripples. The surface twists.

James grabs Darcy’s arm, pulling her back, though they already stand a fair distance away. The ravens shriek in their cage. He lunges forward and grabs that, too.

There is an odd, distorted cracking as the barrier ripples again, and a figure pushes through. Feminine in form. Short, though not disarmingly so.

Her face almost looks like Agatha’s, but it’s off. Wrong. There is a gaping, raw wound in the center of her throat. The features of her face are warped—stretched, pulled, as if trying to melt off.

She tilts her head and grins with a mouth full of too-white teeth. Her voice is raspy and distorted, changing volume rapidly as her vocal chords strain and snap.

“I need you to relay a message for me.”

--

The Eastern Pass is a long, winding path cut directly through the center of the mountains. And it is the coldest place you’ve ever known.

As far as the eye can fathom brings nothing but the same gray rock. In the warmer hours, there’s the shine of water running down the walls, but it has gradually hardened over the day as sunlight fades; the warmth fading with it.

Past the base of Nethys’ Peak there is said to be a large cut-out from the Pass, large and with space enough to hold nearly your entire host. If you push through in the night you should make it halfway to sunrise. Yet there is already a distinct bite to the wind in the fading hours of daylight—what damage will it do in the dark?

A flash of purple above your head draws your eye upward. In a cloud of black smoke, a raven appears. They play and twist in the wind before arcing down to Agatha at your side.

She intercepts the raven on her shoulder without flinching, “And?”

There’s a lengthy stream of song and sound. Agatha nods along like she understands every bit, face neutral.

“Well, we expected as much. Where?”

A low, hesitant reply.

Agatha laughs. It’s not her usual wild cackle, but something muted; bitter. You take in the angry set of her jaw with wary interest.

“Of course.” She says, resigned, “Well done.”

The raven cuddles into the offered hand. Agatha’s expression melts into one so tender you have to look away; the reminder that she does possess a heart twists unpleasantly in your chest.

How is it that she can be unapologetically wicked, yet still trick pure-hearted creatures into loving her?

Weight unsettles your balance, causing one shoulder to droop. Dark eyes look back from said shoulder. You know in an instant who the raven is and a small bolt of joy cracks through the numbness.

“Hello, Aquila.”

Aquila trills. She nuzzles the side of your face with her head, all soft feathers and warmth. Your Grandfather had been fond of dogs in your youth, bringing his around on his rare visits; they would show affection similarly. How lovely it’d be if humans also relied on action, rather than the emptiness of words.

Your shoulders straighten as you adjust to her presence. She continues to nuzzle at you, occasionally stopping to pick through pieces of your hair.

She pulls out one of your silver clips with a practiced yank. The piece of hair it’d been holding back falls forward into your eyes.

“Aquila.” Agatha scolds.

The raven only preens, prize held in her beak.

“You can have this one.” You say, meeting her eyes, pointedly ignoring Agatha, “The rest are mine.”

A tilt of her head. Then, she bows, as if nodding. You scratch at the soft plumage of her skull and carefully avoid knocking the clip from her hold.

“You shouldn’t encourage her.”

“Oh, so rewarding poor behavior is frowned upon, is it?”

Agatha’s eyes narrow, “Something you’d like to say, dear?”

“It’d fall on deaf ears if I did, I’m sure.”

Aquila’s head swivels between the two of you.

“Pot, kettle.”

You bark out a humorless laugh, “You love to hear yourself talk. It’s only natural I’d block you out after a time, dear.”

“Is it my fault I’m the only one worth listening to?” She snarls.

“Most fools think themselves philosophers in one form or another.”

“And you think yourself a God.”

“I do not—”

“Oh yes you do—”

The bickering is stopped as you both jolt in your saddles, coming to an abrupt stop. Aquila lets out a little noise of surprise and readjusts her footing.

Captain Thena has brought your host to a halt.

You twist to see the front line, but can’t see beyond the heads of those in front. The lines of your host are locked tight. 

Between those before you, the barest hint of Thena’s white-blonde hair finds its way to your eyes. Her head is turned, relaying something to the Knight on her left, before someone shifts and blocks you again. You go so far as to stand in the saddle but find yourself glued to it. Blinking, you spy the tell-tale wisps of black and violet curling around you.

With Aquila on your right shoulder, you have to turn your entire body to glare at Agatha, but she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are focused straight ahead.

“Aquila.” Her voice is sharp, commanding, “Bring me answers.”

Your right shoulder is much lighter as she takes off and aims for the front line. Faint though she may be, you can see her circling. You don’t have time for this.

Being stuck in the saddle may keep you from leaving it, but it doesn’t stop your mount from going anywhere.

“Are you incapable of doing anything yourself?” You throw at Agatha. Digging your heels into your mount’s sides, you call, “Let me through!”

A ripple goes through the interlocked forces. Like a wave, they part, allowing you to pass at a trot to where Thena leads. You’re intercepted by a Knight a few paces from the very front; the same you’d seen your Captain speak to.

It takes a moment before recognition dawns on you. She’s different than when you last saw her—no longer covered in a layer of soot, hair grown back in.

“Sir Maria, why have we stopped?”

The Knight glances behind you for a brief moment before focusing back on you, sitting taught in the saddle. Her armor gleams in the dying light of the day.

“The Captain is handling a complication, Your Majesty.”

“What kind of complication?”

“There are riders in the path. Captain Thena is attempting to speak with them, Your Majesty.”

“Attempting?”

“Their common is poor, it is taking some time.”

You nod, accepting and putting the information away when you see it; the Knight fidgets in the saddle. Suspicion takes root.

“What aren’t you telling me, Sir?”

She looks over your shoulder again. You don’t have to turn to know Agatha is coming up behind you, you feel it; the way her presence sucks out the air.

Agatha comes to reside on your right once again, face fixed in a scowl. Aquila no longer circles the skies, nor is she anywhere on Agatha’s person.

“Spit it out.” She demands.

Every rider around you shifts in their saddles.

“They’re demanding to speak with you, Your Majesty. They won’t speak with the Captain.”

“They’ve asked for me by name?” Your brows shoot up.

“Not quite.”

You resist the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose—only just. When did speaking plainly become so difficult?

“You’re trying my patience, Maria.”

The Knight has the decency to look chastised. Her eyes dart behind you and widen for a second before they return to you. You file the action away for later.

“They won’t speak to her because she isn’t the true commander. Without speaking to you, they won’t allow us to pass.”

That brings you pause. True as it may be that you’re the genuine source of power among the host, you’re unsure how anyone else would know. Your journey here wasn’t planned. There has been no word sent ahead of your impending arrival; a misstep on your part, but helpful from a tactical standpoint.

Daylight is fading and fast. Annoying as it may be, you need to handle this yourself, lest you lose anymore time.

“Let me pass, Sir.”

She looks to Agatha, as if searching for permission. Your lip curls. In your lap, you white-knuckle the reins.

You are not a child to be minded.

“It was not a request.” You strain to keep your voice civil.

At your side, Agatha nods. Maria steps back and out of your way. You offer your own terse nod, moving to the front. Those standing at the front line aren’t so open with their shifting at Agatha’s arrival but you can taste the unease.

Beyond the Captain, three riders stand in the Pass.

Sitting high on bone-white horses without saddles, they sit side-by-side in perfect rank. Pigment clings to different parts of their mounts, illustrating pictures you can’t quite grasp. Long, grey manes trail over the shoulder of each horse, of which the ends have been dyed green.

The riders themselves are tall and wide. Long, dark hair is tied above their heads in intricate styles, showing off the rich furs draped across each set of shoulders. Each wears a similar marking of paint; a stark yellow line horizontal across the bottom lip, with a vertical counterpart traveling from the cupids bow down the neck and out of view.

One on the right, whose additional paint boasts powerful blue lines and grey dots, leans over to the man in the center. The language you hear is familiar. You startle.

You’ve never met them, but you’ve heard enough of the Netueht to feel as if you have.

Russet-colored skin glowing with life and strong noses make them more enchanting than any story could tell. You find yourself compelled to stare at the proud image they make. But you’re keenly aware of the chill biting at your ears.

Long has it been since you’ve spoken their tongue, but you pull on your hours of study to call out as you step forward, “I am Queen of Lucia, daughter of Nethys and Daris. How might I be of service?”

Every head on your side of the path turns to regard you. Some wear shock, others interest. Even the Captain blinks before remembering herself. You pay them all no mind.

The man in the middle steps forward. He is by far the most painted; bearing a proud swatch of green on his forehead and filling in his bottom lip. A collection of blue dots align with the edges of the green on his forehead. But the most striking is the blue over one eye.

If he is impressed by your knowledge, he does not show it, “Chieftain Aly’Liwen bids you welcome, daughter of Nethys. What is your purpose in The Pass?”

His speaking is far smoother than your own. The syllables rumble forth from his throat as a deep, simmering note that swings up and back again. You could listen to him speak for ages.

“Passage. We’ve come from the West to return to Greymont.”

A swift incline from all three as they accept the information.

“We were not informed of your coming.”

“This was not our original path. I beg your pardon and that of your Chieftain.”

The two others murmur to the leader, swift and low enough that you cannot follow. His expression does not change as they speak.

“Should you and your people respect The Pass, we will trouble you no further. We bid you safe passage.”

His tone brims with finality. The three turn to return the way they came and something grips you—knowledge from lessons hammered in by your Mother, courtesy so be remembered, but above all the feeling of rightness in their presence. They alone have soothed the simmering anxiety that has chased you since the barrier.

That cannot be a coincidence.

You call at their retreating backs, “Should Chieftain Aly’Liwen have room, it would be my honor to fill the table.”

They turn. The leader does not show any visible surprise, but one of the others does, if only for a moment.

The Netueht do not observe Queens and Kings; to them, all but a few are sons and daughters of the grand scheme; and all children know hunger. Breaking bread, providing, assuaging that hunger—there is no greater act of respect.

A common man could have allowed them to leave, but for a leader—a Mother of the people—to do so would have been a slight. And while said slight would not have been punished, it also would not have been forgotten.

“Are you friend or foe, daughter of Nethys?”

You can’t help your grin, “Do foes often name themselves so easily?”

Then you see it; a crack, the beginnings of a smile on the man’s face.

“Only the foolish ones.”

A laugh leaves you, swallowed up and carried across the space on a cold wind. Despite it, you feel warmed.

“I am a friend.”

“Then you and your closest may follow. Friends are always welcome at the table.”

You turn to Captain Thena, whose gaze flickers between you and the Netueht with interest. Her expression is not quite wary, but on the brink of it.

“Captain, you’re to take the host and continue through the Pass. Half-way to sunrise you’ll reach a settlement large enough for all of you to rest.”

“Your Majesty—”

You hold up a hand, “Agatha, myself, and the Guard will remain to break bread with the Netueht. Continue on and make camp near the village at the base of the mountains. We will follow a day behind.”

Thena opens her mouth to speak, but pauses.

The world has frozen.

Behind you, Agatha snaps, “Are you out of your mind?”

You turn your destrier around to face her, “I think you’ll find I’m perfectly in control of my mind. Now put the world back, I wasn’t done.”

“You have less than fourteen days to see your kingdom protected and you’re running off with the locals.”

“The Netueht are an ally hard won.”

“You need witches to beat a witch.” Agatha explains like one would to a child, “The Netueht are not an ally that you can afford to waste time on.”

“They have to know something. They’ve been around since the First Men.”

“So have cockroaches.”

“You can commune with them while I speak with the Netueht, then. I’m sure you’ll enjoy seeing your family.” You respond, voice sickly sweet.

“Cute.” She rolls her eyes, “We’re continuing with the host.”

You can’t. There is something in these mountains, something connected to the Netueht that you need; you know it as intimately as you know breathing.

“There is something here, I can feel it.” You say in a tone just shy of begging.

“What does it feel like?”

“Like… like standing outside a library and knowing the answer you seek is inside.”

Agatha’s mouth twitches into her signature smirk. Her head tilts as she thinks, eyes roaming, fingers tapping idly at the horn of her saddle.

“I don’t trust them.”

“You don’t trust anyone.” You reply immediately, “But will you follow them?”

“No, but I will follow you.”

You blink, “You mean it?”

“Don’t get soft on me. Whether I like it or not, I’m your magically-bound shadow.”

“Fitting since you’re always in the way.”

Agatha waves off the comment, “We’ll delay no longer than a day. That’s all we can afford.”

“Alright.” You nod.

“Should we seal the deal with a kiss?”

Rolling your eyes, you offer a look the comment deserves. She laughs. You turn to face the Captain. Then, with a snap of her fingers and a wisp of violet, time resumes.

In however long you and Agatha existed outside of time, you’ve been distracted enough to forget you’re mid-conversation with Captain Thena.

“I do not think that would benefit, Your Majesty.”

You blink, fighting to recall what exactly the conversation had been and where it’d been going. Agatha snickers behind you. You want to throw something at her.

“It was not a suggestion, Captain. You’re to continue on as instructed.”

The Captain looks past you and you know she’s looking to Agatha for confirmation. This is the second person within the hour to do so. You fight to keep your face neutral.

“As you wish, Your Majesty. I bid you safe passage.”

“And you, Captain.”

The wind whips your cheeks as you advance, following a few paces behind the leading Netueht. Agatha settles into the space at your side comfortably while your Guard follows at your back.

The Netueht are swift riders. The Pass is a winding, singular road blurring around you in the fading light until it isn’t—until a second, slimmer carving through the rock appears, and they race inside without fear. It is only wide enough to ride two-wide, but the Netueht traverse it single-file, and you mimic them.

Agatha grumbles something behind you.

Were one to travel any slower through this new path, a normal individual might find themselves struck by the fear of the rock walls closing in; but you’re not normal, and you find yourself struck by said fear even as you ride fast enough to rival the wind.

All it would take is one misstep to send you careening into one of the walls, one step to deepen an unseen crack until it splinters and brings a mountain of rock down on you. You white-knuckle the reins in your grip.

If you make a mistake, even a small one, it could lead to an end, and you can’t die here—you don’t want to die here. Would anyone find you beneath the rock? Would anyone know if you were beneath it, clawing for freedom, desperate—

A path wider than The Pass is where the Netueht guide, and you feel the panic in your chest loosen.

Arched openings line the new passage. The walls are shorter, boasting tufts of grasses and plants atop them, the roots curling down on either side. Color clings to the walls in pictures you can’t decipher as you race by.

Cutting off the path ahead is a wall of stone.

Like traversing a long hallway, you gradually come to a stop at the end. You’re surrounded on three sides; and on each side, an identical arched doorway cut into the stone.

All three Netueht slide from their saddles and land on sure feet. The leader turns to you.

“We will return for you.”

He vanishes through the doorway ahead. His companions split, one going right, the other going left. Only their mounts remain as evidence of their presence.

With the heavy hoofbeats on stone silenced, quiet descends over your party. There’s little wind to be found in this tucked-away corner. It’s nice, even if the air does still possess a bite.

Agatha and her mount shift, restless, eyes darting across the landscape, “I don’t like this.”

“We’re not in any danger.”

“Dreykov, Belova, Romanov.” Agatha barks, ignoring you, barely turning to regard them lest she put her back to any of the doorways, “Moving Her Majesty to safety is to be your only priority.”

You don’t have to turn to know they all nod.

“That’s not necessary.”

“Your new friends tell you that?”

“We’re safer here than we were in The Pass.”

Agatha scowls, clearly skeptical. But something like joy has settled over your shoulders. There’s a tug in your abdomen as you run your fingers over the rock wall, not unlike what you felt in the river. For a moment you swear the stone hums beneath your touch.

Can you hear it, like you could the river? Does it, too, have a voice?

The Netueht leader steps from the same doorway he vanished through. Warmth dances in his eyes, “Come.”

He remains on foot, leading his mount by the bridle through the doorway. You’re the first to step down from the saddle and mimic his actions. The members of your Guard follow suit.

Agatha remains in the saddle.

You roll your eyes, “I hope you hit your head.”

“Though a kiss is capable of fixing many things, I don’t think that will extend to brain damage. You’re welcome to try.” She teases.

“With the brain damage you already possess, I’m of the hope that something will be knocked back into place.”

“What more could you desire from my personality, darling?”

“We don’t have nearly enough time for that.”

She presses a hand to her chest in faux-hurt. A grin pulls at the edges of her mouth. You shake your head at her antics.

Through the arch reveals a tunnel of stone.

You cannot see ahead; the tunnel winds, snake-like through the mountain. Your guide is sure of every step. He walks with a swiftness that he has to rein in every now and again, as if remembering that he’s leading guests.

The air is still. No movement can make it past the initial curves of the path, and it feels stifling. You grip the bridle of your horse in a shaking hand. Even as the path widens and grows taller you cannot raise your eyes from the floor.

It’s as if the stone is compressing, moving in toward you on all sides. Your breath comes in short bursts that you try fruitlessly to even out. They can’t see your weakness, any of them—they can’t see you fall to pieces over something so trivial.

They can’t see. Please, you beg, though unsure of who you’re begging, don’t let them see.

If it all comes crashing down there is no escape, no way out. You’ll be extinguished beneath the weight—

You dig your nails into your palm until you draw blood. It releases some of the tension in your chest, opening your lungs as breathlessness abates.

Darkness settles on your left side and your eyes dart to find the source. Agatha has settled into step at your side, her destrier walking to the left of her. They’re a striking pair. Agatha, all blue eyes and fair skin but with an aura of darkness clinging to her; her mount, deep black across every inch, as if he has siphoned the darkness licking at her fingertips.

Weight settles back on your chest. You focus on the ground before your feet, nails digging in deeper, but it doesn’t offer the same release as before.

You’re safe, you tell yourself. The Netueht walk these paths often and they’ve remained standing.

But what if this is the time—

You focus on Agatha again, blurting, “Have you named him?”

“Who?”

“Your horse.”

She frowns, “Is that a requirement of riding one?”

Her brows are pinched. She looks between you and her mount.

“Of course not. But he’s going to be with you for a long time, it seems silly to call him ‘horse.’”

Silly and disrespectful, though you keep the second thought firmly to yourself.

A long stretch of silence settles between you. Agatha regards her four-legged companion with the calculated gaze you’ve come to expect. Gently, she scratches at the side of his face with her free hand, pleased when he leans into the contact.

“Inanis.”

The purr of her voice sends a shiver down your spine. You ignore the warmth in your cheeks.

“What does it mean?”

Agatha grins, “Inanis was the horse Darkness rode into battle, a void given shape.”

You don’t have time to unpack that. You’re not even sure what it means. She mentioned Darkness during your time near the river, didn’t she? The reverence in her voice feels similar.

“He does look void-like.” You settle on.

A sidelong glance, “And yours?”

“Oh, I didn’t name her. She was my Mother’s.”

You run a fond hand down her face. She huffs against your palm, leaning into the contact. Her nose presses, searching, just like she did when you were a child, but you hold no treats in hand.

“I see.”

Something in her voice makes you stiffen.

“Do you?” You ask, defensive.

“Your Father’s throne. Your Mother’s horse. Their legacy. Is anything in Lucia yours?”

You balk. You have your home, the love of your people, your friends. You’ve earned it all on your own merit.

Right?

You recognize the lies as soon as you think them.

All the time you’ve spent nitpicking Agatha about her own lack, when in reality, you’re no better; at least the power she wields is her own, rather than that which you borrow under your title. Cold settles into your bones.

“What is her name?”

You blink, drawn from the maw of emptiness threatening to consume you. Agatha watches you expectantly.

“Pardon?”

“The horse, what is her name?”

“Sundrop.”

You run your hand over her nose again, admiring the buttery yellow of her color, though its flecked with patches of gray.

Agatha’s lips twitch.

Noise, bouncing off the tunnel walls and to your ears, beckons both of you to look forward. You round a final corner to find there is no tunnel left.

You’re led into a grand, cavernous space. Before you sits an expansive rock ledge teeming with people. Beyond that, two winding stone staircases lead down and out of sight. Walls curve around you in a great circle and boast countless doorways; though unlike those outside, they’re decorated—personal.

Curling overhead is an impressive overhang of rock that draws every sound into an echo. Amongst the cacophony of people you hear water and birdsong—life hidden away in this great cave.

Children race past, screaming with joy, not sparing you a glance. Some of the older Netueht regard the group of you with curiosity. None of them appear surprised to have company.

“These are our visitors?” A smooth, feminine voice asks.

Your eye is drawn to a tall woman with a diamond-shaped jaw and an elegant hooked nose. Long, dark hair flows around her, inlaid with tiny braids. The ends of her braids are dappled with green.

She examines you with keen chocolate eyes. Her lips are downturned at the edges.

“She certainly looks like a Queen.” She adds, seeming unimpressed.

You’re surprised, only just able to hide your grin.

“Pleased to meet your expectations.” You say.

Her eyes widen a fraction, darting to the man who led you. His shoulders shake with silent laughter. Cheeks flushed with a bit of pink, she hits him on the shoulder, hard, but he doesn’t seem phased.

“You could have told me they spoke our tongue!”

“And miss you making a fool of yourself?”

“Awful man!”

A third voice cuts in, “What an example you set, Mallinali.”

Coming up behind her is a tall, lithe man. He bears no paint besides that they all seem to share; the yellow marks across the mouth. His hair lays behind him in an undisturbed curtain, displaying the same hooked nose, but a sharper jaw.

It is not the set of said jaw that gives away who he is, nor the way he holds himself—but his eyes, kind yet ever-so detached; a look you’ve seen gazing back from the mirror often.

“I hope my sister has not offended you.” He says.

“Not at all.” You smile.

Holding out your arm palm up, you offer your name. He clasps your wrist, your arms rotating in unison, both of your hands feeling the pulse of the other through your veins before releasing.

“Pleased to welcome you. I am Aly’Liwen.” His gaze flickers over your shoulder, “And the sharp beauty at your back?”

“My wife, Agatha. And our Guards Yelena, Natalia, and Antonia. We are at your disposal.”

His gaze settles back on you, amusement lingering at the edges of his mouth, “Waman said you were formal, but I didn’t expect the old formalities.”

“Much of the new hasn’t reached our people in some time. If you’d like me to observe different courtesies, I would be pleased to do so.”

“I didn’t expect it, but it is not unpleasant. I haven’t heard them since my Mother was Chieftain.”

“She is likely the reason I know them.”

Aly’Liwen is thoughtful, before nodding, “She would have taught them to your Mother.”

“Yes. Aly’Ajei was held very dear to my Mother’s heart.”

Something softens in his eyes at that. The detached look lessens. You notice Mallinali perk up at the mention of their Mother’s name where moments before she’d been hissing at the other man—Waman.

Waman does not watch you, though—he watches Aly’Liwen with a knowing gaze and something else; a careful fondness. Ah.

They make a striking pair.

A small smile comes to your mouth. When you look back to Aly’Liwen, an unexpected fondness lingers in the way he regards you.

“You are Little Sun.”

The name slams into you like a battering ram, but you nod. You try to hide the flinch that has Agatha’s hand pressing to your lower back.

“I am.”

His face splits into the most wonderful smile. Were you not otherwise inclined, you could find yourself falling at the mere sight of it, and the deep sound of his laugh.

“My Mother used to read the letters to me. You were more of a handful than my sister.”

“This I must hear.” Waman grins.

You flush, “Oh Gods.”

“I was not that difficult.” Mallinali defends, “Even if I was, I’m far better now.”

“Barely.”

“Waman, on my Mother I will see you silenced.”

“He is Hawk, Malli, his tongue is spoken for.” Aly’Liwen pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, “But forgive our manners, you and yours must be tired. There is time to rest before we eat.”

The additional doorways along the walls, as it turns out, are rooms. Chambers. Your Guard are led to one just to the right of the one you and Agatha are offered. Agatha inclines her head politely before strutting inside as if she owns it.

Even the thought of entering the chamber makes you tremble. Despite how tired you may be, you’ll handle that problem later.

“Would you mind terribly if I shadowed you?”

Aly’Liwen looks surprised, but shakes his head, “Of course not. I want to know the full story behind the worm sandwiches you served to Lady Valentina.”

You groan. He laughs, the sound echoing beautifully in the cavern.

An arm is held out and you accept it with a smile. Belova falls into step behind you.

“Waman expressed my intent to hunt for your people?” You ask.

“It’s why you were allowed here.” He leads you across the main space and toward the downward-sloping staircases you noted earlier, “We will have to wait out the darkness. Tonight, you and yours are at our hospitality, and at first light we will be at yours.”

Nearing the edge, the scene below draws a gasp. At the bottom of the stone staircases sits the true mouth of the cave, teeming with life on all sides; flowers and herbs and even trees. The Netueht have cut all the way through the mountain to the forest on the other side.

Inside the cave mouth, the life is more uniform—cultivated in rows and warmed by the few careful fires some of the Netueht sit around.

Birds linger on rock ledges clinging to the ceiling. Most are nestled down in their nests, silent. A few are trilling their final song of the evening. They’re common birds, sparrows and crows and larks… except one; a large, solitary hawk.

He notices you just as you notice him. He blinks, his head tilting.

Aly’Liwen guides you toward the staircase and down. You focus on every step, careful not to stumble, but find yourself distracted by the warmth of his arm in your own.

Upon reaching the bottom step, the space rumbles, and you tense. Panic flares. You were right, this place is unstable, its going to collapse inward and what will come of you then—

Two massive stone wheels are rolled from the edges of the cave, pushed by a few men each. They roll until they meet and close off the cave mouth from the forest lying just outside. The rumbling ceases.

You offer Aly’Liwen a questioning glance.

“The predators in these mountains that would ravage us in the night.”

“There are many?” You ask, racking your brain for what wildlife they have.

“Bears and large cats and wolves. Not overwhelming to us, but we do not tempt them.”

“Greymont only has wolves.”

“Direwolves, so I hear.”

You’re not sure how valuable a distinction it is, but nod.

“They’re more scarce than they once were, but yes.”

He shivers, “I cannot imagine sharing a home with direwolves.”

“You have bears!” You say, unable to help your laugh.

“Bears are more reasonable and easier fought.” He defends.

Waman appears, a sly grin on his lips as he passes, “For you, maybe, but only because I’m the one doing the fighting.”

The noise the Chieftain lets out can only be described as indignant. It comes out in a squawk that has you covering your smile to preserve politeness. Waman only throws a smug look over his shoulder as he moves along.

“Do not listen to a word he says.”

You’re guided to the small fires in this space, introduced to all the people lingering and working. Aly’Liwen is a courteous host. What startles you is that he doesn’t introduce you by name, but as Daughter of Nethys. Hearing her name said so casually is blow and balm both.

Something of her lingers here; perhaps it is the fondness she had for these people, maybe it is the ease with which you find yourself falling into joy with them like you once did with her.

Each person greets you with the same clasping of hands. You don’t know the last time you’ve been touched by so many. It’s overwhelming.

Awareness prods your senses. You’re being watched.

You glance around in a quiet moment and spot it; the only solitary bird besides the hawk is a raven. Aquila.

--

The Netueht gather on the upper rock ledge, surrounding a great fire on benches. You hand a stack of woven bowls off to Isi—Mallinali’s daughter—who darts off to pass them out.

Mallinali comes from the fire carrying roasted meats. She sets them on the table where you’ve come to stand, arranging them to the side of all the roasted roots and greens.

“You’ll never be rid of her now.” She comments.

“Who would ever want to be?”

The corner of her mouth turns up in a sly smile, “You may not feel that way after she’s had sweetleaf.”

You shake your head. Isi, while precocious, is a delight. She’s eager and sweet and has no shortage of interests; many of which she has regaled you with details of.

Like moths to a flame, Waman appears over Mallinali’s shoulder with Quidel, her husband. Both make sly attempts for pieces of the meat near her hands while she’s focused on you. She doesn’t bat an eyelash as she slaps the hands viciously.

Quidel says nothing, seeming unfazed. Waman cradles his hand dramatically.

The latter exaggerates, “You’ve broken it.”

She shakes her head and turns to regard them, arms crossed over her chest. You stifle a laugh.

“Would serve you right.”

“Is this anyway to treat your Hawk?”

“No, but it is how I treat my brother’s bonded.”

“No mercy for your family. You see how we are treated, Little Sun?”

The nickname seems to have been well known to most you’ve come into contact with; and they’ve taken to using it like your true name. You’ve become used to it enough that you don’t flinch, but it does still hurt to hear.

“The consequences of your own actions.” You shrug.

“Another ally lost to Mallinali. I’m beginning to wonder if I should change sides.” Quidel muses, face unchanging from its stoic look.

Mallinali pats his cheek, “If you know what is best for you.”

A tug on your skirts draws your attention from the interaction. Isi has returned and is holding out her arms with a grin.

“More bowls, please!”

“Coming right up, your greatness.” You tease.

She giggles, showing off a great big grin. The offered bowls are near-snatched from your hands as she bounds away again.

When you look away from where Isi is gone, you see her.

Agatha has appeared on the other side of the fire, closest to the chambers you were given. She’s changed out of the ornate dress she traveled in to one that is more understated. It softens her edges.

Romanov stands at her back, taking in the scene. Agatha’s eyes are searching, darting over the faces of those in the space. When they land on you, they do not stray. The dress hasn’t softened the electric blue of her eyes.

She weaves through benches and bodies to come stand before you.

“You have kept busy.”

You blush as you remember the state of your appearance.

Somewhere in the midst of pulling roots for dinner, you shed your outer jacket, haphazardly rolling up your dress sleeves. Dirt still lingers under your nails despite scrubbing at your hands. You unpinned your hair, too, opting to tie it up with a braid of sweet grass someone had offered. A far cry from your usual look.

“Many hands make light work.” You offer.

Agatha smirks, “That’s not the only thing they do.”

You roll your eyes, swatting at her lightly.

“Behave.”

“I always behave. Just not for you.”

Ignoring the comment and the infuriating amusement paired with it, you hold some of the bowls between you, “Make yourself useful.”

She purrs, looking you up and down, “Where do you want me, darling?”

Despite doing everything you can to keep it from happening, you feel the hot flush in your face.

“Go.” You grit out.

Agatha throws her head back in a laugh. She wanders off to hand out the bowls, a rare mercy, and you relax against the table. You hate the things she is capable of doing to you.

The purr in her voice has gone straight between your thighs. The rasp, the barely-restrained desire hidden under the teasing… it feels all too similar to a few nights past, when she’d taunted you to your breaking point. Now that you’ve gotten a taste, your body aches for it, but you can’t have it; the moment in the river had been a one-time indulgence you won’t risk again.

You’re drawn from your thoughts by more meat, fresh from the fire. Waman and Quidel have since given up on their crusade for taste-tests, leaving you behind with Aly’Liwen and Mallinali. The three of you make quick work of any lingering preparations.

Silence descends over the three of you as you work. It’s so unlike the stifling silences in Greymont, where it brings the feeling of a million eyes. This silence is freeing, comfortable. You find yourself lost in the work until the two push you to go sit.

You spy the familiar, unruly head of hair around the fire. She’s chosen a bench that is back away from the flames; not quite secluded, but not front and center, either. None of the Guard linger near her.

Agatha watches the room as she watches everything else; with intense, unwavering focus. It allows you to slide in next to her almost unnoticed.

“Where are the Guard?” You ask without thinking.

“I don’t need them, dear.” She drawls, then her demeanor takes on something more pointed, teasing, “After all, someone was rather adamant that we were in no danger.”

Your opinion on that hasn’t changed; you feel safe here, but powerful as Agatha may be, you don’t like the thought of anyone being without extra protection.

“The Guard is here for a reason.”

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about little old me?”

“I like having the extra layer of defense between my hands and your neck. It helps to curb the urges.”

Agatha leans closer to you, voice dropping to a heated murmur, “Tell me more about these urges of yours.”

You’ve pivoted in the past, made threats, attacked her, even. Anything other than acknowledging her more risque taunts. Now you want to see her surprised. You lean closer, mind conjuring all the filthy things you could whisper to catch her off guard, when movement catches your eye.

Aly’Liwen has come around with a grin, bowl in hand, “For all your assistance, you forgot one for yourself.”

You blush and back out of Agatha’s space. With a grateful nod, you accept the offering. He wanders away.

The charged feeling has dropped, leaving you uncomfortable with her proximity. But you don’t move out of her space, unwilling to give even a hint that you’re backing down. Her interest lingers in the air, in the way she regards you from the corner of her vision.

Whether it is the emotion of the moment or the still-present draft, you shiver.

Agatha sighs, long-suffering, and snaps. A flash of violet brings a weight that settles over your shoulders. You sit up straighter, looking down at yourself; Agatha has summoned a warm fur and draped it over you.

A gasp sounds from your right.

Isi stands steps away, cradling a food-laden bowl. Her eyes are wide, mouth dropped open, looking between you and Agatha. You bristle and stand to do damage control. She drops her food onto the bench and turns, running off.

But it isn’t fear that colors her voice, it’s delight, “She’s magic! She’s magic!”

A gaggle of children follow behind Isi as she comes racing back. They surround Agatha—and you by extension—staring up at her in awe. Only Isi is brave enough to venture into her personal space and grab her hands, jostling them for emphasis.

“Make magic!”

You laugh, hiding it behind your hand. You sit forward to translate when she poises her hands before her. A crackling beam of power extends between her palms, held like rope. Little sparks fly from the display before she pulls it back.

Netueht rolls from her tongue like honey from the comb, “What is the magic word?”

That earns her half a dozen voices crying out ‘please!’ and her smirk deepens. You’re staring at her in astonishment.

Her hands twist and the rope of magic unravels into a hundred bolts of lightning, dancing and lashing. When they sneak from between her palms they erupt into puffs of smoke. Said smoke curls at the faces of the children, making them erupt into giggles.

Agatha’s just as smug as ever, but the set of her posture is softer; she’s taut with awareness, holding her power steady, yet she grins as she leans forward to acknowledge every child who shows interest.

The children have opted to make Isi their spokeswoman, whispering questions for her to ask. Agatha answers every one as if she were holding court in Greymont. For some of the more complicated questions, she’ll conjure items or images with magic.

The rest of the Netueht watch. A few crowd around, displaying the same interest as their children.

She is totally in her element with an audience. And when she turns and catches your eye in the midst of it all, she winks.

Something in you stops. You’re seized by an emotion you can’t name. You need to move—anything to work out this feeling in your veins making it hard to breathe.

You go to offer her a smile and find you’ve been smiling.

Rising gracefully, you pick Isi up and plop her in your seat. She squeals with delight.

“Keep her out of trouble for me.” You whisper conspiratorially.

Isi glances at Agatha briefly and says with utter seriousness, “I will.”

It takes longer than you expect to weave through the gathered crowd, and it feels even longer before you reach the table laden with food. You feel you can breathe the second you reach it.

What was that?

You’re not alone at the table; Quidel standing near, focused on you. His expression is just as stony as always but his eyes hold an interest.

“Not fond of crowds, Little Sun?”

Understanding dawns. The odd feeling in your chest, the need to move—it was fear. You’d felt the Netueht pressing in like stone walls and your body had registered what your brain couldn’t; too distracted you were by Agatha’s display.

“Not especially.” You say.

“Your bonded handles them well for the both of you.”

“Yes, she does.”

A glance finds her still entertaining the group, lips moving to explain something you can’t hear to one of the children. Your eyes fall on the empty bowl in her lap.

Has she eaten?

She had breakfast with you, but you were too caught in your own mind to notice her behavior. She touched nothing on the journey here. And when you wandered with Aly’Liwen she likely took the time to rest.

You load your own with double the food. You eye the roseberries with desire, but ultimately avoid them; Agatha’s face always twists at their flavor.

Every step back toward her makes that feeling inside you grow. You can veer off course and leave her to handle herself, she hasn’t noticed you yet; but the idea of how ravenous she must be drives you forward. Is it not your place to assuage the hunger of those here?

Agatha catches your eye. Concern softens her features and you quickly school your own.

Mallinali clears away the crowd of onlookers and admirers. Your place on the bench is once again wide open as you slide next to her, careful to maintain a healthy distance. You set the bowl between you. 

Agatha hesitates, then begins to pick at it. You avoid her eyes. 

--

You groan, “I was a child.”

“That only makes it all the more damning, darling.” Agatha grins, “Children are the truest form of being.”

“Oh, please. And what were you like as a child, then?”

“A delight, naturally.”

“Delightful terror is probably closer to the truth.” You muse.

“Says you, young overlord. You know what they say about casting stones, dear.”

Aly’Liwen and his people are natural storytellers; and there is no better excuse for storytelling than to entertain visitors. Over the course of the evening you’d even been prompted to share a few of your own. A mistake, it seems—at least in relation to Agatha.

Your bickering with the witch has brought you to your chamber door. Agatha waltzes right in, utterly unafraid. You stop in the opening.

Amusement is quashed beneath the weight settling on your chest. Drawing breath feels impossible. Your hands come to clutch the arch of the doorway. If you can just take one step inside, you’ll be fine. The fear will fall away.

You put one foot through the door and can’t move any further. The step has made it worse. Oh Gods.

The opening inside is snake-like to protect from any wind, but it only makes it worse. You can’t assess the room from here. Though it’s a positive that Agatha can’t see you fall apart.

Briefly you consider not entering at all and finding a place within the cavern to sleep; but you’re not a commoner. Finding a way to enter the chamber is inevitable.

You pull one hand from the doorway and sink your nails into your flesh, hoping for the sweet reprieve the pain can bring. Nothing. The fear doesn’t ebb—if anything, it grows worse. Gods, you just need to step into the chamber.

You have no choice.

“H-Harkness.” You call into the chamber, cursing the break in your voice.

Shuffling, feet on stone. The wild, dark mane of her hair comes around the curve, blue eyes curious. The sight of her is a comfort.

She raises a brow.

“I…I can’t…” You whisper.

You don’t know how to put it into words—the lack of breath, the impossible weight on your chest, how you tremble like a child. Every fear in your mind is alive and whispering terrible things in your ear. You don’t know how to tell her that you can’t silence them.

Your eyes are glassy, casting a blurry haze, but you still see the cruel smile that forms. It feels like a twisting knife in your chest.

Agatha coos, mocking, “Something wrong, dear?”

The knife pierces deeper. You can’t do this. This isn’t a fight you can rise to—you can’t even breathe.

You flinch back. One of your hands leaves the doorway as you prepare to retreat, to find anywhere to bide your time until the morning, logic be damned.

Humor drops from Agatha’s expression. Worry stains her proud features and she crosses the distance in a blink. She comes to stand before you, hands held between your persons.

You hardly see them through your blurred vision.

“Give me your hands.” Agatha orders.

The order drums up annoyance. It’s comforting—the heat of you defiance, low as the temperature may be.

If only you had more of it, perhaps you wouldn’t need her.

Finger by clenched finger, you peel your grip from the doorway. They ache from the force at which you held on. Blood rushes back to the appendages, but you still feel cold.

You’re forced to take a step forward to grab her hands. They’re warm and dry. You’d flush at the sweat on your palms if you weren’t otherwise distracted.

Her blackened hands grasp your own tight.

She takes several steps back into the pathway until you’re forced to take more to follow. It’s a slow, terrifying dance. One step for you, several for Agatha, and so on. You stare at your joined hands.

In your periphery, you can see the walls on either side, and you can see exactly when they widen into what is the dedicated chamber.

You’re rooted to the spot.

There is a great woven rug over the floor, tapestries and painted scenes covering the walls, a modest bed in the center of the room. It’s beautiful, but the walls are too close, the ceiling is too low—

Agatha has stepped away far enough that continuing to clutch her makes you lean forward at an odd angle. You need to move forward, but you can’t. You won’t.

You can’t stay in this room.

She leverages your uneven footing and yanks, hard. You stumble a few steps forward and feel a shriek clawing up your throat. It’d escape—if you could catch enough air to make it so.

You only manage to whimper.

She pauses, then steps close. Too close. You can’t push her back; the overwhelm of having all of her so near blocks out the vision of the room—the too small room with all the shadows with all the weight—

One hand is extracted from your own. You cry out, clawing at it, trying to catch it with your own. She can’t let you go. She can’t.

The words leave you without your consent, “Agatha, please.”

Her hand settles in the center of your chest, over where your heart beats. Agatha’s gaze traces your features; over the pleading look for safety, for her to fix this one thing you can’t face. Carefully, she pulls her other hand from yours, and instinctively you latch onto fistfuls of her dress, desperate to anchor yourself.

“Close your eyes.” Her breath is warm over your skin.

You’re helpless to do anything but obey.

It helps when your eyes fall closed; you can’t see the shadows crawling over every corner of the room. All you feel is the heat of Agatha so close, the firm press of her hand over your heart.

Then, frisson. A bolt of electricity.

“Feel her.” Agatha says.

Her voice echoes, carrying a depth just like it did in the center of the river.

And then, you do.

Your senses expand outward. The gentle hum you felt through the stone is alive and real, something closer to a steady breath. You feel the tug of every root clinging to the stone, the reverberations of every step taken upon it. Despite so much weight and movement there is no yield. No give. She does not budge even an inch.

“She won’t hurt you.”

Caught up her instruction, in the feel of the mountain coursing through you, the whispering fears in your mind go silent. You’re safe.

Tension melts from your limbs. You slump forward, a shaking breath escaping. Your front is pressed fully against Agatha’s. The warmth exuding from her helps calm the shaking in your limbs. You’re grounded by the pressure of her. It’s nice to be held.

A hesitant hand comes to hold your waist. Two of her fingers trace careful patterns.

“Thank you.” You whisper.

Agatha hums.

“This isn’t what I expected from you.” She admits.

“It’s my place to keep you on your toes, isn’t it?” You laugh, a bit of bitterness creeping in.

You shouldn’t be showing her this weakness. Of all the people to see you at your lowest, she should be the very last. This weakness shouldn’t exist, let alone have seized you enough to override your faculties.

His words echo in your mind; a Queen never loses control.

The weight of the dagger under your skirts is a promise; control is just within reach. You release a fistful of Agatha’s dress and reach for it.

You press the tip of the blade into her side.

Her hand releases your waist and two fingers crook under your chin. You meet her eyes, defiant.

“You’re getting predictable.” Agatha murmurs.

You smile, but you don’t feel any joy. You need to regain what you’ve lost.

You need control.

“If I’m predictable, why let me so close?” You whisper.

Agatha leans in, barely a breath between the two of you, “Because it’s your place, angel.”

The dagger is extracted from your hold faster than you can blink. She doesn’t turn it on you. Rather, with a grand flourish, she sinks to one knee, and pushes up your skirts.

You watch, frozen. Her flesh is warm against your own. The length of the blade is cold where she slides it back into your garter.

She chuckles low. As she stands in a fluid motion, she winks. One of her hands pats your thigh.

“Sleep well, darling.”

Your prior fear feels miles away, now. As you tuck in for the evening you burn with the lingering feeling of her flesh on your own.

--

The slant of light tells you you’re dreaming. You sit beneath a tree, back pressed against it. Above you the branches sway in the wind. Yet, the sunlight doesn’t change; unmoved despite the jostled branches.

You hold a book in your hands and a heavy weight in your lap. The weight is familiar—comforting, even, like you’ve always carried it with you.

“Mother?” The weight asks, voice high and youthful.

The book is lowered to reveal wild hair and blue eyes one could drown in. Her face is serene, but she’s aware; eyes a whirlpool of thought. You smooth a hand over her cheek.

Since when do I have a child?

“Yes, my beloved?” You murmur.

“Where are my sisters?”

She leans into your touch like a starved animal, even as she delivers the question. For some reason it feels like a blow to the chest.

Sisters? No, there is only her… my baby. My only baby. Right?

“You don’t have sisters.”

“Yes, I do. You’ve just forgotten. You always forget.” She sits up, “Remember. You have to.”

“My beloved, there are no sisters to remember.”

The words settle something incorrect in your chest. You claw at it absentmindedly.

“Yes there are! She’ll help you find them again.”

Your thumb had been stroking little circles on her cheek. It freezes. Tilting your head, you regard her closely.

“Who?”

Her weight vanishes. She’s gone from beneath your hand, round youthful cheeks and all. The slant of light dims, the shadows lengthen, and the sky is painted from golden to crimson. Beneath you the earth is charred, dead—just like…

“Turning the water against me was clever.”

You turn and stop. She stands a few feet away, hands folded in front of herself, waiting. The skin of her face is as if someone grabbed and pulled. No bone is revealed in the wake of it, but void; endless nothingness.

The light, golden and sweet, drips from the branches overhead like rain. It sizzles upon meeting the blackened earth.

Her voice… like pulling a thread too thin, an auditory example of pure anticipation and fear. It bobs up and down but always too tight. The sound is almost impossible to bear.

“It wasn’t my idea.” You say.

She looks as if she means to smile, but the melting flesh on her features doesn’t move to accommodate the action.

“But it was your intent.” She says, slowly advancing on you. You resist the urge to back away, “Do you think Agatha could do this?”

You see it, then. The carnage wrought upon her throat. A gaping wound through, the edges black and festering. Snapped chords hang limp through the opening, but a few remain; you watch them tighten as she speaks, itching with the knowledge that it could snap before your eyes.

Gripping your middle, you feel light-headed. You’re going to be sick.

“How are you even here?” You ask, eyes averted to the ground.

Agatha had told you that your mind was guarded after everything at the barrier; she’d handled it herself, meticulously weaving magic and latin around you. And you had felt Her fall away from your mind. You know you had.

“We’re cut from the same cloth, you and I—woven of the same thread. Agatha cannot fathom us so she cannot keep us apart.”

“We are nothing alike.”

She shakes her head, sighs. The sound is strangely human; out of place coming from the horror of this witch.

“I don’t want to be your villain.”

You feel a pull to believe her. You shove it down.

“You have an odd way of showing it.”

“I’ve been kind, haven’t I? Haven’t I been merciful? I didn’t touch your people when you came to me. I offered you a way to free yourself and your kingdom.” She surges forward, hands outstretched as if to grab your own and make you see. She stops when you flinch back, “I even tried to give you what you wanted.”

Your prize under the deal you could have made; freedom from Agatha. Despite you spitting in the face of her deal, she’d gone ahead and given it to you anyway—or attempted to.

Something in you is pulled toward her beyond logic and reason. A part of you—the part you share—wants to believe her. It begs you to just trust.

You stare at the golden-stained spots on the charred ground.

“Why?”

Why do any of it? Why appear now? Why does she want Agatha gone?

“I loved something. Someone.” The grief staining her is palpable, overriding the tension created by her vocal horror, “I…I want him back.”

Love of the romantic sort is not a privilege you’ve ever known. Still, you feel the lack she experiences. It threatens to drown you. How has she been carrying this so long?

“Why not tell me this to start?”

She sighs again. Her eyes close, like she herself is fighting to stay above the grief washing over her. When she opens them, she’s steady again.

“Please… please, will you help me?” She whispers.

One of her hands reaches out, palm up. The edges of her hands match the earth. Her eyes, empty and dark as they may be, hold a pleading glint.

You reach back.

[slutforleeminho]

“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

.

.

.

i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks

[punishereditz]

Best Interest

Pairing: Tyler Owens x f!reader

Warnings: 18 plus only! Minors DNI! DO NOT COPY! Fighting. Blood. Small injuries. Swearing. Smut. Unprotected sex. Oral (f receiving). Praise kink. Creampie. Overestimation.

AN: May be my best smut story yet.

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: After getting into a fight, Tyler takes care of you in more than one way.

~

The hotel parking lot was full of Storm Chasers. His team, yours, and another group of Chasers he didn't know. Tyler's eyes followed your march. A line growing between his eyebrows. What were you doing? Before he had time to wonder, you hurled a book at a guy's head. "You fucking asshole!" Tyler was frozen in place. In complete shock as he watched you lunge yourself at the man.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out?!" You shouted in a fit of rage as you shoved him against a truck with all your strength. "Would someone get this loser off of me?" His team started pulling you off of him.

"You stole my story! You took it as your own and published it you son of bitch!"

"What are you talking about?"

"The book! The goddamn book that I wrote! You stole it, Ray!"

"Oh! That." He chuckled and your blood went cold. Your knuckles turning to a ghost shade of white, you had your fist clenched so tightly.

"I didn't steal it. You threw it away. I just published." He spoke in arrogance and with a shrug.

"That's not the point, the point is that you published it, with your name and absolutely no credit to me or permission! You're taking all the points when you know damn well you didn't write one word!"

"If I didn't dig the story up, then it wouldn't be a #1 best seller."

"You bastard. You betrayed me!" Your voice cracked and you lunged yourself at him again. Your friend quickly rushing over. Wrapping his arms around you and pulling you away. "Enough! Enough! Stop! It's not worth it!" Your friend tried to get through to you. Taking a few steps away from him. Your fist clenched by your sides. As Tyler watched the chaos, he started piecing everything together. His eyes on you as you started to walk away.

"That's right. Walk away, just like you always do. You gave up on it just like you've given up on everything else."

Your body reacted before you mind did. Before you even realized it, you were shoving your knee between his legs, falling to the ground with him, straddling his lap as your fist met his jaw. Then again. And again. Over and over until your hand ached and he spit up blood. The sound of his pain and the sight of his blood giving a sense of satisfaction. You hated how your rage took over you in this moment, but you couldn't stop it. All you saw was red. Your adrenaline high. Your mind so full of wrath that as your group of friends started pulling you off of him, you were still trying to punch him.

It wasn't until Ray stood on wobbly legs that you finally took a deep breath. Taking a moment to watch the blood pour from his nose and mouth. You took a few steps back, but still with a small amount of fury in you... you gave him your best right hook. Falling to the ground and blinking his eyes, trying to not pass out. Now that you finally felt satisfied, you sighed and walked away. Going up to your hotel room.

His team all standing around him. Trying to make sure he was okay. Your friends all frustrated at the hell that just broke loss. But they deiced to leave it alone for tonight. They knew that would be best, but Tyler thought differently. He was feeling a swarm of emotions, he felt your rage, he felt impressed and shocked by your actions. But he was mostly feeling concern because when you walked to your room, walking by him, he noticed your bloody knuckles. He knew some of the blood wasn't yours, but he noticed that your knuckles were cut up and your hands were severely shaking. It was none of his business. He knew that. He knows that the two aren't always on good terms. Always in a competition of who is the better chaser.

But he forgot about all of that right now. All those problems between the two of you, he shoved to the back of his mind, and he walked to your hotel room. Knocking on your door before he allowed his mind to think about it too much. His eyes immediately going to your hands when you opened the door.

"Hey there Rocky." You rolled your eyes at his cocky smirk, and you went to close the door, but he put his hand up and stopped you from closing it.

"Let me see your hand."

"Are you always this forward?"

"Only when something has my interest."

"I'm interesting?"

"Interesting is an understatement." He chuckled. A small smile growing on your lips. "Now that's a sight." Tyler's eyes fell down to your lips. The air between the two of you suddenly growing thicker.

He cleared his throat. "Let me take a look at it." Before you could give him an answer, he was grabbing your wrist, closing the door and sitting you down on the bed.

"Hey!" He simply chuckled and smiled at your complaining. He got down on one knee in front of you. Taking your hands in his and you tried to ignore the heat growing in your cheeks.

"It's fine. I was just cleaning them up."

"Hmm. Sure sweetheart." He started to closely check your knuckles. Gently rubbing his thumb over them. Your hand twitching and your body tensing. He quickly moved his thumb away and looked up at you to make sure you were okay.

"Since when does the tornado wrangler worry about anything else other than tornados?"

"Since there's blood involved." He had a teasing smile, but it faded when he noticed your embarrassment.

"You really did a number on the guy." He said after a long moment of tense silence.

"So... you saw all that?"

"Oh yeah."

"Well, that's not embarrassing at all." Your cheeks burned a brighter red and you wanted to hide.

"Nah. Impressive actually. Remind me to not piss you off." He tried to reassure you and put you at ease with jokes.

You didn't say anything to his joke and instead looked into his eyes. The realization started to settle in. He was checking on. He was being unbelievably gentle with you. Why was he doing this? Your mind spiraled and Tyler noticed.

His gentle hold on your hands tightening just a little. "Other than being sore for the next few days, you're okay." He let go of you and he rose to his feet. Returning in front of you with gauze. He knelt down. Taking your hands and starting to gently wrap them.

As he did, the realization started to hit him. He realized the position he was in. That he was down on his knees in front of you. The smell of your sweet perfume suddenly overwhelming him. He would be lying if he said he hasn't thought about this before. On his knees for you. That was when a mischievous smile crept to his lips. What if I just... "All set." A crease settled between your eyebrows when you saw the look he was giving you. "What is it?"

"Nothing..." He said with a shrug and his voice suddenly got lower. Your breath catching in your throat when you felt his hand start to gently move up your leg. The motions of his hand slowing when he got to your thigh. Taking his time to feel you as he slowly brought his hand back down. Stopping at your knee. He gently pushed your leg. Spreading your legs wider. You couldn't stop the gasp of surprise that left your lips.

"So gorgeous..." He mumbled. His hands running along your thighs. Your cheeks burning so hot you feel like you could start sweating. "Do you know that? How gorgeous you are?" You weren't able to get the words he wanted to hear out. So, you just shook your head. His crooked grin growing wider. He moved his hands away, slowly taking off his coat. His eyes never leaving yours.

"Guess I'll just have to show you." His hands went to the button of your jeans. "Lay back and lift your hips sweetheart." His voice was a low growl of lust in your ear. Sending shivers down your spine. You slowly leaned back and lifted your hips. "Good girl." He pulled down your jeans alongside with your underwear. He moved your legs over his arms and pushed them up until your legs were draped over his shoulders and his hands were gripping your hips. He gently kissed your thighs. Making your body shudder. His lips moving over your other thigh. A smirk on his lips when you a moan escaped you when he licked a line up your folds.

His lips gently wrapping around your clit. Kissing it before he lightly sucked it. Causing your eyes to be sent to the back of your head and your hands gripping into the sheets. Your knuckles aching in pain but the pleasure between your legs overpowered the pain you had because of your grip on the bed. Your hands were the last thing on your mind. Slowly forgetting about what all has happened. Forgetting about the whole reason he ended up on his knees for you. All you could think about was why he was on his knees now and how his tongue rolled on your clit.

Your breath got heavier, and your moans started to get louder. Your legs trying to close around him. But his grip on you kept you in place. Your body still but your head spinning as his tongue started to move faster. One of his hands leaving your hip and circling your entrance. Slowly pushing his long finger into you. Curling his finger up and reaching places that you could never reach on your own. Your body shaking, you moaned out his name.

"I'm... I'm close-" You spoke weakly through moans, and he continued exactly what he was doing. Matching the speed of his finger with the speed of tongue. His finger deep in you and his mouth sucking your clit, you gripped his hair. Keeping his head in place as your climax hit you. Your moans stopping and your breathing slowing. Your hands slumping at your sides. He sucked his fingers clean, and he looked at you with a cocky smile. Feeling his eyes on you, you opened your eyes and looked at him. Raising up, you looked down into his eyes. His hands rest on the sides of your thighs, and you got closer. Your face mere inches away from his. You laced your fingers through his hair, then suddenly leaned down and kissed him. He moaned into your mouth. His cock straining in his jeans. His hand creeping up your body until he gripped your hair. Deepening the kiss. A sweet gentle kiss quickly turned into desperation.

The more the need grew the more heated the kiss got. The tighter the two of you gripped at each other's hair. Your hands moving down and pulling away from the kiss. Grabbing his shirt with a quickness you didn't even know you had. Pulling his white t-shirt over his head as fast as you could. His lips clashing with yours once more. A heat of desperate want and need. He rose to his feet, pulling you up with him. Never once breaking the kiss. Even when you started to unbutton his jeans and pull them down. His cock springing free. The two of you were like animals. Crawling at each other. Ripping each other's clothes off. His pants. Your shirt and bra. Being torn off of each other in a matter of seconds and being discarded to the floor.

The two of you spun and Tyler sat down at the edge of the bed. Pulling you down on top of him. Straddling his lap, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders. His hand moving down between the two of your bodies and guiding his cock into your entrance. Gently pushing it in. His fingers gently digging into your hip. Biting his lips to mask his groan as best as he could. A soft gasp leaving your lips as you started to slowly move yourself down. Starting to take all of his long, thick cock. Stretching your pussy so perfectly. You kissed him as you started to roll your hips up and down.

The kiss quickly turning into all tongue and teeth. Kissing with the same desire that has been burning through the both of you. Wild animals set free. Animals that have been held back and hidden away from their needs. Unleashed to hunt. To hunt for that fire that they need in this cold world. Finding the heat that they need. Finding the heat in each other. In the kiss. In your bodies pressed together. The pleasure growing heavier as you broke the kiss. Throwing your head back with your eyes clenched shut as you were overwhelmed with the best pleasure you've ever felt. Tyler's hands digging into your hips as groans escaped his gritted teeth. Gasping, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt the best pleasure he's ever felt.

Your heart rates spiking and your breathing getting harder to control. The adrenaline of this better than any adrenaline you two have felt chasing a storm. No. This, this was the greatest thing he could ever chase. You. He held onto your waist, and he kissed you as deeply as he could as he felt his climax start to get closer and closer to him. His cock twitching and throbbing. Your walls clenching around him. It was too much for the both of you. He groaned loudly as he came. Your moans as loud as his as you came with him. Your knees weak and your hips slowing to a stop.

You both took a moment to try and control your breathing. Coming down from the high. Tyler left a soft kiss on your forehead, your nose, your cheek, then on your lips. He took a moment to soak in your beauty. Your naked body on top of him. Your forehead glistening with sweat. Your soft gaze. He knew in this moment that you were more beautiful than any tornado and definitely worth chasing than any tornado.

"What are you thinking?" Your gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat. "Nothing." He said with a shrug and a big smile. Gently lifting you off of him. Cum dripping out of you. He laid you down on the bed. Leaning over to give you a kiss. Then he entered the bathroom. Returning with a warm bath cloth. He carefully cleaned you up. Then himself. Changing the sheets. He crawled into bed. Your head laid on his chest and his strong arms wrapped around you.

"I'll see 'ya in the eye of the storm sweetheart."

[paulyenvol6]

Acting Out Of Love

Based on this request

Your husband Daemon and you have an ugly fight after which you don't speak to each other. Your children are quick to notice it though and come up with a plan to make you reconcile.

I loved this request and I had so so much fun writing this so thank you very much <3 Also, please feel free to send me your requests and tell me what you would like me to write

Contains: angst, fighting, fluff

Wordcount: ~5.67k

Masterlist

You had your lips pressed together and head turned away.

Your hand gripped the edge of the table tightly, anger controlling your senses and you felt so heated that you just wished for a cold rain soaking your body.

"I said no, Daemon.", you hissed at him.

Your husband had his eyes closed as if he tried to calm himself but it clearly didn't worked because he pushed himself away from the wall against which he had rested and restlessly walked back and forth.

"And I'm asking you once again, why?! Why, y/n?"

You exhaled loudly and threw your hands in the air. "Because she is too young. I can't believe I even have to discuss this with you. Visenya is 8 years old. Not old enough to climb on a dragon on her own. She can fly with you but she is not going to take off with Sirmai alone."

He rolled his eyes. "Gods be good, y/n! Our daughter is made of fire. She belongs on that dragonback. It's where she is alive."

You laughed out madly and approached him with quick steps.

"Yes. I want her to be alive. And if she is on that dragon alone nothing can assure me that she'll get back on the ground alive."

Daemon shook his head and lowered his head. "Visenya claimed Sirmai, she is not going to get her in danger."

"But she is eight, Daemon! Saena was 10 when we first let her fly on Cloudchaser and Wyllam as well."

Your husband raised his chin and defiantly chewed on his buttom lip. "Visenya is tough. And she wants it too."

You threw your head back. "This is so stupid, Daemon. I said no. I'm her mother and I'm not going to risk my daughter's life because you act irresponsible and emotional and without reason."

"Oh so I'm the bad father now, is that what you're trying to say?"

You crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"No, but it in this case, yes. You're putting your honor as a Targaryen and as a dragonrider above Visenya's well-being."

Now it was Daemon who laughed and rubbed his tired eyes. "I can't believe you just said that…" He abruptly turned around and lifted his finger to point at you.

"I love our daughter as much as a father can love his child. But she is ready and maybe you can't see that but I can. I'm telling you, we should allow her to mount Sirmai."

You shook your head, trying to make your expression look as cold as possible. "No, Daemon. I will not allow it and so it's not going to happen."

He exhaled loudly and shook his head in disbelief.

"And I can't believe you are always coming up with that 'she's meant for it as a Targaryen'. Yes, the blood of the dragon runs in her veins but that doesn't mean that you can use that fact as a justification. She is still my daughter and as much as I respect Targaryen tradition, she is still half dornish and sometimes I have the feeling that you think of your side as superior and more distinctive."

He turned to walk away from you. "This is stupid…"

You glared at him and narrowed your eyes. "No it's not, Daemon."

"It is and I have no desire to listen to any more of your childish outbursts. I'm going to bed now."

You watched him with flashing eyes as he hasted through your chambers but before he passed you you held out your arm to stop him. Your head hit his chest and his eyes shot down to meet yours.

"You will not sleep in here tonight.", you whispered dangerously and Daemon frowned.

"You're not being serious, are you?" But you remained persistend and gestured to the door.

"I am. I don't want you in here."

He grinded his teeth and his eyes twinkled and yet he did as you had demanded and was quick to leave your chambers.

Once he was outside you inhaled deeply and sat down on a chair. You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to make your boiling blood calm down but it took you some time until you opened them and you were able to think normally again.

~~~~~~~~~~

You saw your husband again the next day for breakfast. Your children were playing by the fire surrounded by maids and servants and septas and when you entered Daemon was just reading a piece of parchment but lowered it when he saw you.

You on the other hand completely ignored him and didn't look at him for a mere second. You had decided to give him the silent treatment and just act like he wasn't there. So instead of giving him a morning kiss like you usually would have done you walked to your children and caressed your daughter Saena's dark hair.

Your children were a mixture of your husband's and your features. While Visenya, Wyllam and Meradith came more after Daemon and his Targaryen looks, your eldest daughter Saena and Orlyn had your thick brown hair and darker eyes and skin as their siblings. Meralith on the other hand was the pure image of her father. Silver straight hair, light eyes and the only difference to Daemon was her darker tan. The girl would soon turn 6 and you lovingly watched your children while ignoring your husband's presence.

Orlyn, your youngest just brought you a little dragon that his uncle had gifted him for his name day and pulled it through the air.

"I called him Aero, mother. And when I have my dragon one day I'll call him Aero too."

You smiled softly and caressed your son's shoulder. "That's a name fit for a fierce dragon, my darling."

Your son smiled contendly and babbled something while shifting his attention to his toy again. You straightened up again now and walked towards the breakfast table, still not giving a glance at Daemon. He on the other hand watched your every move but when he realized what it was you were doing he lowered his head as well and folded his hands in front of him.

He was way too proud to give in and talk to you. He was pissed and hurt (even if he wouldn't admit it) but definitely wouldn't communicate with you about his feelings now that you seemed so indifferent. So his expression changed to cold as well and he leaned back in his chair grabbing the parchment once more and fixed his eyes on the letter beneath him. If you were to treat him like this he would play along.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next days you spent almost entirely ignoring each other. Of course you saw Daemon during the meals and when you spent time with your children but you didn't say more than necessary, never looked at him and especially never exchanged any sort of loving affection. You were stubborn and still furious and wanted him to feel that.

In your head Daemon had acted unreasonable and childish and you just hated it because you felt like he didn't actually listen to you. Why was it that you always had to keep a light head while he came up with dangerous ideas and plans and acted as if you were too controlling and scared. You weren't scared, you simply wanted your children to be safe, seven hells.

Daemon on the other hand was equally angry and couldn't understand your behaviour any better. To him, his suggestion was the perfect proof of his love to his children and he simply knew that Visenya would be perfectly fine on her dragon. He felt like you were controlling him and taking part in a piece of his family history that you just couldn't understand that well because you weren't a dragon rider yourself. Daemon was secretly hurt because in his understanding you were trying to claim that part of his identity and that translated in his anger.

And yet through all of his fury, he couldn't help but glance at you when you entered a room. Just like you also took care of him from afar, he had to make sure that you were alright, that you were eating enough and that you weren't overwhelmed with taking care of the children.

One time you didn't attend supper and Daemon had been worried when he found out that you had a headache. Everything inside of his screamed to approach you to take care of you but he couldn't get over his pride and he also wasn't sure whether you would even want him there.

So instead of visiting you, Daemon sent servants to your rooms every 10 minutes and ordered them to make sure you were fine and ask you whether you needed anything. In the meantime the prince walked up and down in his chambers and nervously nibbled at his nails. He hated this so much but what was he to do? He was a stubborn and proud person and remained angry with you. He certainly wouldn't be the first one to give and come apologizing.

~~~~~~~~~~

Four days after your fight, things shifted though because while Daemon tied his hair in the morrow there was a knock on the door.

A part of him hoped that it was you who finally wanted to discuss things but once he had ordered the person to come in the door slowly opened. He turned to see who it was and his face softened when he saw his daughters one by one peeking into the room. Daemon smiled gently and gestured them to come in. The three girls walked to their father who sat down on a chair and lifted his eyebrows at their careful and uncertain expressions.

"What is it, girls? You seem serious."

Saena, your eldest daughter nibbled at her thumb while glaring at her sisters.

"I-Is there something wrong?"

Daemon frowned. "What do you mean, darling?"

Now it was Meralith who stared at her father with big eyes and seemingly was sad. "You almost haven't spoken to mommy yesterday. And the day before. And the day before.", she mumbled and Daemon felt a little stitch in his heart.

He reached down to grab the girl under her arms and lifed her onto his lap. Then he caressed her silver hair out of her face and determindly looked into his daughters' eyes.

"Everything is fine, girls. Your mother and I have been very stressed the past days and sometimes there isn't a lot of time to talk to each other. But we cherish and love every second we get to see each other, alright?"

The only one who looked a little more relieved was Meralith on his lap but Saena and Visenya frowned and pouted.

"But it's never like that.", Visenya claimed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You never talk to mother or kiss her or even look at her."

Daemon shook his head. "I promise you that we have everything under control. In a few days there will be less things going on and your mother and I will have more time for each other again. You on the other hand – " He caressed his daughter's head. "Don't need to worry about anything."

Visenya sighed while Saena still looked suspicious but the three girls decided not to uphold the discussion any longer and told their father they would go in the gardens to play now. Daemon nodded feeling relieved and told them he would have to attend a small council meeting and reminded them of their lessons with their septa later.

What the rogue prince didn't know was that you just had had quite a similar conversation with your sons only a few feet away. Because Wyllam and Orlyn had knocked on your door even earlier. Orlyn with his four years was your youngest child and Wyllam had come to you with him because his brother had felt very anxious the past days because just like his sisters, he had sensed that his parents weren't on good terms with each other.

And so you had assured your sons that everything was perfectly fine, just as Daemon had your daughters. Of course you knew that you shouldn't lie to your children but this whole situation was already exhausting enough so you didn't additionally need your children to suffer from this. It was easier that way. Telling them that mommy and daddy were fine and they didn't have to worry about anything. And perhaps you would be. Maybe.

But Daemon and you didn't know that your children were way too smart to be tricked like that. They had left the both of you alone and pretended to believe you to some extent but once your three daughters had left Daemon's room and walked outside the castle to sit on a bench in the gardens Visenya looked at her older sister with a deep frown between her eyebrows.

"Do you believe father, Sae?", she asked and Saena thoughtfully bit her buttom lip.

"I don't know. I can't believe that we imagined this."

Tears were glistening in Meralith's eyes as she pulled at her sister's sleeve. "I-I want mommy and daddy to love each other.", she whimpered and Saena caringly wrapped her arms around the little girl.

"It's fine, Mera. They do love each other." But then she turned to Visenya again.

"But if father says so we are to believe him. He says we shouldn't worry and maybe – "

But her sister crossed her arms in front of her chest. "I don't care what he says. I know that something's wrong."

Meralith stared at her other sister now and pouted. "B-But no… Please Sae, do something."

Her eldest sister sighed and chewed on her lower lip. She wanted to say something when they were interrupted by their brother Wyllam who had sneaked up on his sisters from behind a tree.

"Arghhh.", he made and Saena shrieked. "Oh Wyllam, stop it."

Her brother laughed and held his stomach while Visenya angrily flashed her eyes at him.

"Not funny at all.", she hissed.

Orlyn stumbled towards his sister behind his brother and as with his sister Meralith tears swam in his eyes. Wyllam turned to him and then sighed.

"He is sad all the time and I wanted to play with him but he didn't want to so I thought you could take him."

Visenya reared up in front of him. "So you thought you could just bring him to us whenever he bores you?"

Her brother rolled his eyes and attempted to pat her head but the girl pushed away his hand. "Relax, sister. You are… girls. You are better with emotions."

That made Visenya jump at Wyllam and her fists came down to hit him in his stomach.

"I make you feel emotions now, you little – " Saena came forward and wrapped her arms around her sister to pull her back.

"Oh stop it, the both of you." Being older and stronger Saena was able to separate the fighting siblings and then once everyone was at calm again and Wyllam and Visenya only angrily glared at each other the eldest sibling kneeled down in front of Orlyn.

"What is it, little brother?" The boy sucked on his thumb and stared up to his sister without bringing out a word.

Wyllam shrugged. "It's because of mother and father. He believes they are fighting because they haven't spoken that much and now his whole world has been destroyed."

He rolled his eyes and indifferently plucked an apple from a nearby tree which he examined closely for holes or worms.

"Oh Orlyn.", Saena sighed and hugged her brother.

"I don't think there is reason to worry though.", said Saena then. "We've spoken to father and everything is fine between them."

Visenya cleared her throat while her youngest brother looked from one sibling to the other. "At least that's what he said. I believe that they have fought. It's always like this when they fight."

Saena shifted her attention from Orlyn to her sister. "What do you mean, always? They don't fight often."

Visenya rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know. But when it happens they always ignore each other. Like today and the day before."

Saena tiredly rubbed her eyes. "I mean… Maybe you are right after all. I sensed something as well but I thought now that father has claimed that we shouldn't worry…"

Wyllam had started to eat his apple but now that even his eldest sister doubted their parents' reassurances he also looked a little worried.

"I've taken Orlyn to mother in the morrow. He was so sad that I thought if we spoke to her, mother could calm him. But though she did, Orlyn remained panicky."

Visenya lifted her eyebrows. "You've spoken to mother? And she said that as well?"

Wyllam nodded. "Yes. She said that her and father were perfectly fine."

Saena put a hand to her lip and hummed to herself. "What should we do now?"

Everyone stared at each other as if they would find a solution in their sibling's faces but no one came forward with a suggestion. It was Meralith who opened her mouth first.

"I want mommy and daddy to love each other again.", she whispered again with her eyes dropped to the ground. Saena, who felt the most responsible and caring towards her siblings took a step towards her sister and pressed the girl's head to her chest.

"They still love each other even when they're fighting, Mera. They are just not talking at the moment but they are still in love, do you understand me?"

Saena kissed her hair and felt her sister nod slightly. So she pulled back, having made sure that Meralith was fine and questioningly looked around in the circle. Visenya cleared her throat and rested her hands on her hips.

"We should do something. Give them no choice but to talk to each other."

Wyllam agreed and nodded. "We could lock them in the same room.", he suggested but Saena shook her head.

"That goes too far, brother. And how would you even do it? No, we have to come up with something else. Though I'm not sure if we even should interfere…"

Visenya rolled her eyes and walked back and forth. "Of course we should interfere, sister. Otherwise they're never gonna speak again."

Her youngest siblings looked shocked at her words and fearfully stared at her with big eyes.

"Stop scaring them.", complained Saena. "She is not being serious.", she then spoke to Meralith and Orlyn. "Of course mother and father are going to speak again."

Then the eldest girl sighed and looked at Visenya. "Fine. Maybe we could try it. We should make them talk again."

Her sister nodded contendly and clapped her hands. "Perfect. I already have a plan."

Wyllam frowned. "You do?"

She nodded and pointed at Orlyn. "What is your favourite game?"

The boy widened his eyes and his gaze wandered over his sibling. "Hide and seek."

Visenya nodded. "Exactly. Mother and father will notice that Orlyn is feeling a little weary and sad. So he will go them, perhaps separately and tell them that he would love to play a round of hide and seek with the whole family." She smiled mischieviously. "And then we will manipulate the game so mother and father are in the same team. Then they will have no choice but to talk again and everything will be fine."

The girl smiled proudly and looked from Saena to Wyllam waiting for their admirations but her sister frowned.

"What if they don't have the time? Or they don't want to? Father said it himself, they're very stressed at the moment."

But Visenya shook her head and sighed. "You forget that this was only an excuse, sister. And Orlyn just has to be persistent with them."

"I can do that.", her brother claimed and raised his chin.

Wyllam also thoughtfully hummed. "But what if they won't talk? They can play the game with us and still just ignore each other…"

Visenya realized that he had a point and his sisters remained silent for a moment. Then it was Saena who shrugged.

"We could try it though, right? It's not a perfect plan but it's better than doing nothing."

Visenya nodded enthusiastically while Wyllam hesitatingly tilted his head but it was decided. Meralith and Orlyn were seemingly merely glad that something was happening to make their parents reconcile and so in the afternoon Orlyn shyly knocked at your door while your handmaidens were brushing your hair that always got so messy over the day.

When you saw who it was you smiled softly and sent away your servants. Your son still looked a little sad so you took him into your arms, lifted him and caressed his dark hair.

"My sweet boy.", you purred while holding him closely to you. Orlyn crouched against your neck which made you close your eyes simply enjoying the closeness to your youngest child.

"Mommy?", he then hummed against your neck after a while and you felt the vibrations in your whole body.

"Yes, love?"

"Can we play a game in the gardens? Please."

You sighed and drew your face in a painful smile. "Oh Orlyn, it's really… I have so much to do…"

Your son pouted at you and you felt a little stitch in your heart at his dissatisfied expression. "Please mommy."

You chuckled at his dark puppy eyes that looked so much like your little sister's and suddenly you remembered the way she had looked at you as a child when she used to ask you to play with her and so you knew you couldn't refuse your son.

"Alright, sweetling. What do you want to play?"

Your son shrieked excitedly which made you deepen your smile and his hands grabbed your shoulders.

"I want to play hide and seek. With Meralith and Wyllam and Visenya and Saena."

You nodded and put Orlyn back to his feet. "Fine. As you wish, love."

And so the two of you walked out of your chambers and to the gardens where your other children were already waiting. You hadn't lied when you said that you had a lot of things to do, but when Orlyn had come to you earlier to ask about Daemon and you, you had sensed that your son was feeling a little worried and anxious, even after you had assured him that everything was the way it was supposed to be. And so you had decided to make some time for your youngest son to give him your love and affection and make sure he didn't feel sad and concerned anymore.

Now you stood with your children but just when you were about to ask them what teams each of you were playing in Orlyn excused himself. You didn't see the wink that was exchanged between your son and Visenya because their plan was it to get your husband now and in that way give Daemon and you no choice but to talk about your differences.

You didn't know that though and just watched your son haste inside the castle with a surprised expression but were quickly distracted by Meralith who showed you a bunch of beautiful flowers she had collected. You admired and complimented each of it and were leaned down to closely examine the flowers when suddenly your daughter shrieked and twitched. A bee had stung her on her arm and tears filled her eyes at once.

"Owww.", she cried and you were shocked when you saw the sting starting to swell.

"Oh no no.", you made and grabbed your daughter's arm to look at the sting. The girl cried panicky while your other children gathered around their sister.

"What is it, mother?", Wyllam asked concerned and you kneeled in front of Meralith.

"Saena, get the grand maester. Quickly."

Your eldest daughter looked equally shocked as your other children and swiftly ran off inside the castle.

"It's alright, sweet girl.", you tried to sooth Meralith even though you felt really scared yourself. Her whole arm was swollen by now and your daughter looked pale in her face though you weren't sure if it might be caused by her shock.

"Everything will be fine, Mera. Just look at me and breathe."

You had to keep a clear head and clam your children who all nervously wandered around and Wyllam had started nibble at his thumb, a habit he had since he was a young boy.

"Mother what's happening? It looks so scary.", he asked.

You caressed Meralith's shoulders and tried to breathe steadily. "It's just a bee sting. Saena will be back soon with the grand maester and then everything will be fine."

Your daughter's cheeks were coated with her tears and you just prayed that your words would turn out to be truthful. And then finally your eldest daughter returned, old grand maester Simon hasting behind her. He was breathless and held his chest as he kneeled down in front of your daughter.

"Oh gods be good. What happened here?", the old man asked and Meralith's lower lip trembled.

You took a step back to let Simon take a look at the sting and wrapped your arm around Wyllam and Visenya. Anxiously you bit your lip and waited while watching the grand maester doing his work when there was suddenly someone else entering the gardens. You had totally forgotten about Orlyn and the fact that he had mysteriously left the scene to get back to the castle but now your son walked out with Daemon.

All of a sudden there was a tightness in your throat and you felt the need to cry and just hug your husband. He narrowed his eyes when he understood the scene and hurried to Meralith who was still crying.

"Darling! What happened?"

It wasn't you who answered though you wanted to. Simon explained it to Daemon while your youngest frightened son ran to you and pressed himself to your legs. You petted his hair while you watched Daemon talking to his daughter with his eyebrows drawn together. His hands held hers tightly and then you head Simon speak again.

"First she should go to bed now and rest. I'll bring the medicine that she might require."

And so your husband picked your daughter up from the ground and carried her inside with Simon following close behind. For a brief moment Daemon and your eyes met and all he could see was the worry and angst on your face. Then they were inside and as much as you wanted to hurry inside too to by at your daughter's side, you had to calm and be there for your other children now.

~~~~~~~~~~

And that you did. You stayed with Orlyn, Wyllam, Saena and Visenya by the fireplace, read them from their favourite books and assured them that their sister would be fine.

It had gotten late and soon Wyllam expressed that he was tired and wanted to go to bed so that was what you did next. It took some time bringing each child to their rooms, covering them up with their blanket (the only exception was Visenya who insisted that she was old enough to do it herself), wishing them a good night and promising them that in the morrow they could see Meralith.

It was the hour of the owl when Saena drifted off to sleep and you sighed as you left her chambers. Your plan was to finally look after Meralith but just when you were about to enter her rooms grand maester Simon opened the door and put his finger to his lips.

"Shh. She has just fallen asleep."

He closed the door behind him so you didn't have a chance to peek inside the room.

"How is she? Please, I need to see her."

Simon looked pitiful as he shook his head. "She is fine, my lady. She will be fine. But you shouldn't disturb her now, it has taken hours until she was calm enough to drift away to sleep."

You exhaled bitterly. Everything was just so overwhelming and the worry about your daughter restricted the air coming to your lungs.

"Fuck.", you breathed because you had held back your emotions all evening and now all you wanted was to see that Meralith was fine and not even that you could do.

"I'm sorry. But she needs her rest, I recommend you come and see her first thing in the morrow."

You nodded though you felt disappointed and sad. Simon bowed his head and then turned to walk away from you. You were left feeling cold and lonely and in desperation. You inhaled a few times and then unwillingly returned to your chambers.

Once you were there you felt empty and numb but knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep now. You wished you could fall asleep next to your daughter because you were certain that her presence was all you needed right now to be calm. Knowing that you were denied that, you walked up and down in your chambers so close to tears but they just wouldn't spill for some reason.

Suddenly there was a knock on your door and absently you called "Come."

Only after the words had left your mouth did you realized what you had done. You couldn't bare the presence of anyone who was not Meralith right now and you wanted to slap yourself for not thinking before speaking.

But when the door opened your eyes rounded and it felt as though a weight dropped from your heart.

Daemon stood in the door watching you with tired eyes that in an instant made a warmth spread in your body. The lump in your throat seemed to somehow increase in size and now you felt that the tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.

You saw him gulp and then walk towards you and without speaking a word Daemon wrapped his arms around you. You held him equally tightly and for a moment you felt so relaxed and at calm that you forgot every worry or concern and the comfort of his body so close to yours made a few tears escape your eyes.

"She'll be fine, y/n.", Daemon hummed against your hair and you nodded against him.

"Yes. Yes, she will be."

Then you pulled away from him but still had your hands on his shoulders. "Did you see her? Is she in pain?"

Daemon smiled softly and caressed your back. "I did see her. She was scared but… no, she wasn't in great pain."

Then he pressed you against his chest again so you felt the warmth of his body and now you realized how much you had missed him these past days. Gods, how had you done it? How had you survived without laying next to him at nights, without smelling his familiar scent?

"I'm sorry, y/n.", he now whispered against your ear and your thumb soothed his collarbone.

"Me too.", you said and then once again pulled back to watch your husband.

"I know that all you did was act out of love for Visenya. I'm sorry for what I accused you of and I know that I perhaps was too hasty and I… I didn't think about what I was asking of you.", Daemon stuttered and you smiled softly.

"And I shouldn't have said that you were acting like a bad father. I know that you're not."

He grabbed your hand while watching you with these puppy eyes that immediately made you melt.

"I know that you're right. Our daughter should always be safe and I-I don't know what possessed me. There's nothing wrong with waiting another year until she will mount her dragon and I want her to be safe too. I just… I guess I just felt hurt hearing you speak about how dangerous it is to be on dragonback. It felt like you thought of dragonriders as ridiculous and imprudent. And then... I thought you were trying to take this part of me and my identity away. And then maybe I was scared that you would never allow Visenya to mount her dragon and that made me act irrational and emotional. Gods… I know that it was so childish of me to come forward with this idea and stubbornly insist on it."

He kissed the back of your hand and then you reached up to hold the side of his beautiful face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to feel you like that. And I know that you acted out of love as well. I know that you're proud of your family and your traditions and I respect that so much, love. I know that you want Visenya to carry this tradition as well and share it with her and just like you, I can't wait until she will. I don't think of dragonriders as imprudent. I think of them as fierce and brave and I know that Visenya will do an amazing job."

His eyes lovingly looked into yours and he squeezed your hand tightly.

"Thank you.", he merely spoke and then you leaned forward to kiss Daemon on his lips.

That night you didn't throw out Daemon. That night you didn't feel cold or lonely.

That night you held your husband tightly with his arms wrapped around your back while your hands were buried in his hair. You both knew that it would probably get way too warm in the night because a thick blanket was additionally covering the both of you but you didn't care. All you wanted was to feel Daemon again and so you drew patterns on his scalp while the both of you drifted away with your thoughts.

"I love you, y/n. So much."

You smiled with closed eyes. "I love you too, Daemon."

And then you fell asleep with your last thought being that you promised yourself you would never let such a stupid fight get between you.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗟𝗘𝗙𝗧 𝗔𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗘 | 𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 𝟮

　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where the weight of Matt's actions gets the best of him, and he tries everything to receive his girl's forgiveness.

WARNING: Fighting, cursing, crying, smut (mdni), slight praise kink. Angst with a happy ending!

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons and @ivoncheetooo1239

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

Part 1

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Matt sighed deeply as he parked his car at an abandoned gas station. He closed his eyes tightly as his index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his own nose. His body was completely tense, as if someone had thrown a sack of potatoes over his shoulders and hadn't removed it until now.

The boy reopened his eyes seconds later, looking vacantly at the pitch black surrounding him before seeing out of the corner of his eye his phone screen light up for the thousandth time, alerting him of a new notification. He picked up the device, unlocking it and scrolling through the notifications bar.

His heart seemed to stop pumping blood to his body instantly, his face taking on a pale color as he saw more than 20 new messages and thousands of missed voice calls coming from Chris.

His brain seemed to go on red alert as his mind screamed Y/N's name, and then he finally revisited the memory of what he did to his own girlfriend just over an hour ago, the smoky fog finally dissipating from behind his eyes.

Matt felt like his chest was burning while his heart accelerated strongly. His arms momentarily lost strength, almost dropping his phone.

His eyes flicked through the messages before tossing the device onto the passenger seat, turning the key in the ignition and driving back.

He stepped on the accelerator with full force, exceeding all permitted limits and passing all red lights. He knew he would wake up the next day with a new ticket - or several -, but that was his last concern at that moment.

His orbs were fixed on the road, his brow furrowed as his mind rattled off the words he threw at his girl, his precious girl. If he could, Matt would go back in time right then and there, so he wouldn't break his promise to never hurt and abandon her.

Matt turned his steering wheel abruptly when their house appeared on his eyesight, slamming the break in front of the garage door, wasting no time in parking correctly. His hands quickly unlocked the doors, throwing his body out of the driver's seat and slamming it behind him, the dull thud echoing through the lonely night.

The boy's hands shook as he fumbled for the front door key, cursing under his breath each time it seemed to slip through his fingers.

Finally, after a few long seconds, he was able to open it, closing it slowly so as not to wake Nick, not wanting to involve another person in his huge mistake.

His steps were quick down the stairs, stopping in front of the familiar white door. The boy took a deep breath before turning the handle, pushing it slightly.

Matt's eyes met Y/N quickly, pain hitting his heart like a stake at seeing her in such a vulnerable state; Her eyes - despite being closed - were swollen and her face was wet from the last tears she shed before falling asleep.

A rude sound caught his attention, his gaze meeting Chris's, who stood up from his chair abruptly. His eyes held a fury that Matt didn't remember ever seeing before, while his shoulders were tense with nervousness.

Before Matt could utter a word, Chris pulled the collar of his shirt, bringing his face closer to his own. Chris's nostrils were flared from his heavy breathing, hitting Matt's face.

"If Jimmy was here, you'd be dead. That's no way to treat a woman." Chris rasped, his voice low but full of anger. "Fix your mistakes, or I'll end you."

He pulled away, roughly letting go of Matt's shirt, watching him with his right eyebrow raised and crossed arms, waiting for his next move.

Matt swallowed hard, biting his bottom lip hard, feeling the sensation of crying rise through his veins. He quickly turned his back on Chris, walking over to his brother's bed with tentative steps.

His hands lightly pulled the duvet down, exposing the fragile body covered in the pink sweatshirt set. Matt hooked his arms under Y/N's neck and knees, pulling her up carefully, watching her eyes move beneath her eyelids quickly. A sign of a nightmare.

Matt hugged her closer to his body, walking past his brother with his head down in shame, leaving the room and going up the stairs slowly, not wanting to wake her with every movement of each step.

Upon arriving in their respective bedroom, the boy took her to the bed, placing her body gently on the soft mattress.

"M-Matty?" The fragile voice echoed like lightning in Matt's chest.

Matt sighed, closing his eyes tightly as he crouched down, getting into a squatting position. The boy rested his arms on the mattress, bringing his face slightly closer to hers, watching her eyes slowly open.

"You came back. I thought you left me." Y/N whispered, her lips trembling as her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Would you really leave me?"

Matt felt his heart being crushed by her words, his cheeks burning, as if he had been slapped. He swallowed hard, mentally calling himself every worst name possible.

"No, no, no, baby! I would never leave you-" He shook his head repeatedly, his brow furrowing in such a way that he was sure it would leave marks.

You already did.

"But... You said you'd stay forever, and then you left me out in the cold, alone." A sob escaped Y/N's lips, her weak body shaking incessantly. "What did I do? Why would you do that to me?"

Matt felt his own eyes filling with tears, blinking them quickly to ward off the tears. The boy bent over his girl, hugging her head gently, stroking her hair with his fingers.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, my love. I fucked up. Badly." An ugly sob escaped Matt's throat, cutting off his sentence. He closed his eyes tightly, the taste of his tears touching his tongue. "I love you so much, I'm so fucking sorry. I know that this doesn't change my actions, and trying to find a plausible explanation for why I acted that way won't erase what I did." His eyes travel across Y/N's features, seeing an ocean of hurt in her eyes. "If I could, I would go back and remake our day all over again."

He paused momentarily, swallowing hard.

"All the work we are getting with the 6 million and the new things on the channel has taken a toll on me. I missed you so much, Y/N, you have to believe me. I don't know what's gotten into me, I just got so upset because I wasn't seeing you as much as before. God, I was so selfish." Matt shook his head, biting his bottom lip hard. "I love you, and I never want to hurt you, not again. I was on the wrong, I fucked up with you."

His hands shook as they found her cheeks, caressing the wet skin.

"I'm so sorry." His voice now was a mere whisper, pain present in his tone.

"I-I understand. I also made a mistake, I should have warned you that I had to work overtime and... Give you space, I know I can be a lot sometimes. I never wanted you to come pick me up out of pity or obligation-"

Matt shook his head repeatedly, silencing her by guiding her head slightly so that she looked him in the eyes. His fingers working to brush the loose hair from her face.

"Don't say that. Please. You did nothing wrong. I love taking care of you as I take you to work and pick you up... It was my fault. I was an asshole, a terrible boyfriend, I- fuck..." He presses his lips into a thin line, stopping the sob that was about to come out. "I left you alone, what the hell was I thinking?"

"It's okay." Y/N whispers, lowering her eyes to the mattress, feeling her chest burn in pain from seeing him so distressed.

"Shh, no. It isn't okay." Matt denies it, his fingers touching Y/N's chin lightly, forcing her to look at him again. "I don't fucking deserve your forgiveness." He was pleading with his eyes for her to understand that she was not the one to be blamed.

Y/N nods while sniffling, closing her eyes as she feels her fingers caress her face as if she were made of porcelain.

"I love you. So much." Matt says. His hands cup her face, bringing his own closer, touching their noses in an eskimo kiss. "I love you. I love you. I love you." He repeated it like a mantra, sighing when he felt his girlfriend's ragged breaths so close to his. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry."

Their faces were equally wet with tears.

"It's okay, I'll forgive you at some point. Just... Don't ever do it again. Please." Y/N plead in a vulnerable whisper, half opening her eyes, before closing them again as she feels Matt's lips caress hers.

"Never, I'll never do anything like that again. I promise. I'll take care of you forever." He assured, nodding his head. "What can I do? How... What can I do to make you forgive me?" His tone was full of despair.

Y/N pondered momentarily, her heart beating heavily in her chest. Her hands snaked across the duvet until they reached Matt's wrists, wrapping her fingers gently around them. She pushed her head forward, lightly bumping her nose against his, touching their lips almost imperceptibly.

"Make love with me. Show me how sorry you are. Show me how much you love me, Matt. Please." She begged softly, her eyelashes caressing her cheeks as her eyelids fluttered, hiding her orbs.

Matt felt his breathing stop, his mind seeming to process what she asked. He curved his spine higher up the mattress, sealing his lips on Y/N's quickly, before pulling away, but not enough to lose the warmth of his face against his own.

"Are you sure? I don't want to take advantage of your vulnerability." His tone, despite being anxious, had hints of hesitation, not wanting to invade his girl's space after such a traumatic event.

"Please, Matty. I need to feel you. I need you to love me." Thick tears rolled down Y/N's cheeks, her tone full of anguish and lust, a strange mix, but one that matched perfectly at that moment.

Matt didn't blink, pushing himself up off the floor before kneeling on the mattress, helping Y/N lift her upper body.

He rested his right hand on the bed while his left one gently held his girl's jaw, as if she was made of glass and could break at any moment.

The boy brought his face closer to hers again, taking her lips in an intense kiss. His blue eyes closed at the sensation, his warm tongue caressing Y/N's bottom lip, asking for entry, which was quickly granted.

Their tongues started a beautiful dance, the taste of tears mixed with saliva. Whimpers escaped Y/N's throat, her hands flying to the back of Matt's neck, lightly tugging at the curly strands.

Matt moved nimbly onto the duvet, kneeling between his girl's legs and using both of his hands to guide her down, squeezing the spot below her breasts, just above her ribs, so that her back lay against the mattress again.

He bent his torso over Y/N's chest, keeping his weight supported on his right hand while his left one caressed her cheek, never once breaking the kiss.

Y/N snaked her hands around Matt's shoulders, squeezing the tense muscles caused by his position, desperate for contact.

Her fingers went down her boyfriend's abdomen like warm water, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up slowly. Matt broke the kiss for a second, allowing her to pull the piece of clothing off his body.

His large hands worked on ripping off Y/N's hoodie gently, admiring every bit of her exposed skin, and mentally thanking her for being braless.

He dropped the heavy piece to the floor, lowering his spine again and sealing her lips, their tongues now in a slower pace, pain giving way to love.

Matt ran his right hand down Y/N's breasts, caressing her nipples just momentarily, before moving further down, trailing his fingertips across her stomach and navel, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind.

He touched the waistband of her sweatpants lightly, breaking the kiss momentarily to draw in air, which filled his lungs like water on dry ground. His eyes wandered over the girl's hopeful expression, taking that as a go-ahead.

Y/N lifted her head from the mattress slightly, pressing their mouths together again, craving the contact.

Matt smiled against her sensitive lips, finally running his hand through the layers of clothes, moving down until he found Y/N's pleasure point.

His fingers rubbed circles around the already swollen clit, receiving nasal sighs from the girl below him, who raised her hips in search of more contact.

He took his fingers further down, slipping a finger between her folds, her wetness helping him to move better. He gathers a bit of it before slowly introducing two digits.

Matt pulled his lips away from Y/N, his blue eyes traveling over her features contorted in pleasure as she felt his long fingers going deep inside her. He felt like he could admire her like that forever; cheeks flushed from all the crying and pleasure, mouth slightly open - from where gasps and sighs escaped -, brow furrowed and eyes closed.

That was his private paradise.

"Matt, please." Her voice came out in a faint whisper, a silent plea for more.

The boy didn't take long, lifting himself onto the mattress to have greater access, dragging the sweatpants and panties down his girl's legs slowly, not wanting to hurt or rush her.

He removed his own pants and boxers, returning to his initial position between his girlfriend's legs. Matt lowered his torso, spreading small, wet seals across her belly toward her breasts.

His hands gently held Y/N's heels, pushing them so that she bent her knees and placed the soles of her feet on the mattress, opening her legs wider.

A breathy moan escaped the girl's lips as Matt gently kissed one of her nipples, the slightly chilled air of the room hitting the saliva on her hot skin, goosebumps rising through her body as a result.

"Is it good, baby? I'm making you feel good, hm?" Matt questions knowingly. "Y'so pretty. Even when you cry. My pretty girl."

He stroked the skin between the valley of her breasts with the tip of his nose, before moving up further, managing to see Y/N nod her head repeatedly in response, her cheeks wet from her tears.

Matt pressed his forehead to hers, their heavy breaths mixing as he looked down momentarily, taking his cock in his right hand, pumping it a few times, a wince escaping his lips at the sensation.

His blue eyes met hers, silently asking if he could continue. In response, Y/N's right hand snaked up his torso towards the small of his back, pressing down lightly, while her left hand squeezed the biceps of his occupied one.

Matt lowered his hips, brushing his red tip between her folds. He moved his hips gently, slowly pushing into her. A unison moan escaped both of their lips, Y/N closing her eyes tightly at the feeling of invasion while Matt kept his open, taking note of her every expression.

The boy eventually started picking up his pace, going with slow and shallow thrusts, sighs escaping his mouth, accompanied by breathy moans from Y/N.

"Matt- Oh." Her mouth opened in a perfect O as she felt Matt hit a specific spot inside her that made her see stars. "D-don't stop. Please."

"I won't, my love. I'll never let you go. Never again." Matt promised, his hips moving to deepen his thrusts.

Tears fell from Y/N's eyes due to the overwhelming sensations, the weight of the previous events still hurting in her heart, mixing with the immense pleasure that the boy was presenting her.

Matt sealed each of her tears with his lips, whispering sweet nothings and little apologies, along with huge declarations of love.

A sob escaped Y/N's mouth, her teeth working to clamp down on her lower lip in an attempt to stop the loud, ugly sounds from keep escaping.

"Hey, hey, sweet girl. I'm here for you. You're so important, the best girl out there. I love you so much... M'so sorry." He murmured against her lips lightly, his own heart aching with each tear that fell her pretty eyes. "Do you want me to stop, sweetheart?"

"N-no, please. I need you, I need to feel you." Y/N responded desperately, shaking her head, lifting her head off the mattress and sealing their lips in a messy kiss.

"It's okay, it's alright." Matt responded gently against her mouth. "I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere."

His movements never stopped, Matt alternated the rhythm between slow and deep, reaching places inside Y/N never reached before, feeling her hot, spongy walls pressing him into a delicious tightness.

"Oh fuck, fuck, fuck." Y/N moaned against Matt's chin, their faces moving messily against each other from the now faster movements. "P-please." She cried.

"I love you so much, so fucking much." Matt panted back, fucking her with a little more urgency, chasing her and his own orgasm.

It didn't take more than five thrusts, and Y/N felt her entire body tremble, her legs instinctively wanting to close - being blocked by Matt's hips - while her belly contracted. Her chest rose slightly from the mattress as her spine arched from the intense pleasure that hit her.

Her eyes saw little stars as she rolled them tightly, Matt's name escaping her lips like a mantra.

The sight and feeling of his girl's body shaking against his brought Matt's orgasm to the surface, hitting him hard. A moan escaped his throat as he buried himself deep inside her pussy, feeling his cock throbbing against the walls that seemed to want to crush him.

Matt pressed his nose against Y/N's cheek, breathing in her scent as he felt the sensations of his orgasm slowly subside.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." Y/N whispered, still in a post-orgasm trance, her eyes closed and her breathing ragged, her legs still having small spasms.

Matt kept his eyes fixed on her face, watching her come down slowly, rubbing his thumbs on her hipbones to ground her.

"Y'with me, babe? S'all for you, my love. Always." Matt slurred, pressing his lips against his girl's warm, flushed cheek. His left hand went up her body to her face, wiping away the traces of tears. "I'm so sorry, petal." He asked again, his chest still aching.

"S'okay, I forgive you." She nodded, kissing his left shoulder lightly, her eyes heavy with sleep from exhaustion and excessive crying.

"I'm going to fill the bathtub and give you a relaxing bath, okay? M'gonna take care of you, sweet girl." Matt spoke softly, moving his hips slowly, taking his cock out of her, receiving a small sound of discomfort in response. "Shh. I know baby, I know." He whispered. "I'm gonna grab some snacks from the kitchen, so you can eat while I wash your body. How does that sound, pretty girl? Hm?"

"S'good. Please." Her voice came out in an almost incomprehensible whisper, her eyelids serving as curtains for her heavy eyes. She could feel her head floaty and her heart beating in a rhythmic rhythm, her skin warm with euphoria.

Matt sealed her forehead with his lips for long seconds, closing his eyes and breathing in the natural scent of Y/N's skin.

He still felt the guilt eating him alive, promising himself he would never again let his emotions get the best of him. He would take care of her, his best girl.

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[ohmygraves]

some more period related stuff cuz i hate bleeding and being born with a uterus

inspired by this piece by @dmitriene !

okay, so say that the reader is someone who grew up in a "traditional" household. being taught that period is an "embarrassing" thing, that you clean up after your own mess, even if you're feeling like your body is being torn into two pieces. even if the job takes two person to do.

it took a while for you to get out of that kind of family dynamics, and now that you're together with simon (either married or dating) you understand that maybe your period doesn't have to be something that's so shameful.

one day you bled through your pads or whatever period products you use, the blood leaked everywhere. On the shorts you wear to bed, the new satin sheets you just bought, the thick comforter on the bed, simon's... oh god you even bleed on him.

of course, you panicked. one because now you had to somehow clean everything yourself and then get back to bed to get some rest before the sun goes up, and that you had to wrangle those pants and sheets from simon so you could clean them properly. this was your nightmare and you're not sure if you could even deal with everything.

you were about to cry and pass out from the sheer overwhelming feeling before simon wakes up, seeing the blood on the bed and on him and on you and he just let out a sigh before pulling you to the bathroom, giving you a pat on the back and kisses your forehead to calm you down.

"y're bleedin' onto the floor, sweetheart... c'mere..." he whispered, didn't expect you to start crying instead after he said that. oh god, i have to mop the floor too, you thought.

"what're you crying for, love? it's okay. i'll handle the mess."

you tried to form words, but all that came out were sobby mess. "b-but... 's blood... dirty..."

if he could roll his eyes further he could've seen the inside of his head.

"love, really? you think i'm bothered by a little bit of blood?" he let out a sigh. "do you remember what i do everyday?"

"it's different!"

"'s not. blood's blood," he sighed, "take off your pants."

you didn't want to make him more angry, so you obliged, letting him throw the stained clothes away. he took off his own stained pants, grabbing a clean one for himself before telling you that you should probably shower and get yourself settled down, he'll be outside cleaning everything off the bed. you reluctantly agreed, you felt really gross anyway and shower might help.

when you're done, he prepared you some new pads, clean set of clothes, the dirty clothes you wore earlier were now gone. the bed is cleaned, though missing the comforter and the sheets have been replaced. the blood on the floor is also clean, he must've mopped the floor while you were inside.

"how's my love doin'? better, i hope?" he came up behind you and hugged you. "threw everything into the washer, everything's sorted."

"simon, i have to handwash them..."

"do you want to handwash the comforter too? be my guest, then."

you sighed, hand washing the comforter would've been absolute hell.

"just come back to bed, love... everything's clean."

"bed's stained, right?"

"'s all good, i flipped it over."

good enough.

you laid back down with simon, the clean sheets feel nice on your skin. it seems like he got another blanket, though not as thick as your usual comforter, still better than nothing. hopefully the stain on the comforter will be gone by tomorrow.

"sorry that i woke you up..."

"just go to bed, love. 's late." simon grumbled, pulling you into a hug. seems like he's not used to the thinner blanket too, seeing how he's snuggling into you closer. it is quite cold without it, the two of you just got used to the thick comforter.

"okay," you closed your eyes, feeling better. "i love you, simon."

simon only grumbled in response, his face already buried in the crook of your neck.

you hoped that there won't be anymore leakage later.

[krypticcafe]

Reader/ Y/n coming back to base covered in blood and tortured while 141 + Alejandro had no idea where reader was since they left in the morning.

Reader is "the little sibling/adopted child that we must protect all cause" to the boys

Love your writing so much ❤️

As Long as I'm Here

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic gn!reader x 141 + alejandro

warning(s): canon-typical violence, language, drugs and drugging, torture, blood, military inaccuracies, no use of y/n, no beta read

a/n: Hope you don't mind that I decided to put this all in one long fic, kinda struggled with the writing direction with this since I had to rewrite it multiple times and I had to cut it short so I'll probably make a part two?

synopsis: it's going to take a lot more than simple torture to keep you from going back to the 141.

Part Two is now up!

"I'll be back before they know it."

Those were the last words you thought to yourself before you hopped off the helicopter. You and a team of other capable members of SpecGru and the Los Vaqueros had left before the crack of dawn for a joint operation and anticipated coming back by the afternoon if things went smoothly. And of course, they didn't.

No, you couldn't be afforded such a luxury as seen by how you were overwhelmed in battle. You wish you could've said you did your best, but god dammit you should've checked before entering that building, thinking you could lure the enemy away from the rest of your team. Compared to the hours you spent strapped to a chair with nothing but fluorescent light and a buzzing in your ears to compliment the throbbing pain in your head, you started to prefer the option of joining the rest of your teammates becoming target practice instead.

It didn't help either that the people who caught you were sick bastards. You could deal with the punches, a kick to the crotch, the hair pulling, cigar smoke, the blades, and having your body slammed around the place. It was nothing compared to practice with the 141 and prior missions you had with them. But when the metal cart of syringes came out, you knew you were beyond fucked, even when you had a swollen eye, a busted lip, broken ribs, open cuts, and burns. They took it a step further and injected experimental drugs you were supposed to investigate, homemade concoctions as they lovingly called them.

By pure shitty luck, you only escaped because one of them was stupid enough to clean up after offering you a glass of water when you woke up after passing out, dropping and shattering it in front of you, and not bothering to clean up. When your guard left to go take a piss break, you threw yourself to the floor and tried to squirm your way to the glass, using a shard to cut through your ropes. Once your guard came back, you pretended to still be bounded to your seat, coaxing him to come closer as if you wanted to confess something, and slit his throat. From there, it was easy now that you had a gun.

Or at least it was supposed to be. Maybe it was the heat of the moment or the adrenaline of finally being able to move, but the drugs hadn't fully kicked in until now. Your whole world seemed to sway, or maybe it was just you. You couldn't tell, all that mattered was that you could fight. Based on the layout of the building you were in, you were still in the same area as you were before. It took more bullets than you would've liked to admit to take down the guards that were in your way, but how was it your fault when the only two thoughts in your head were 'Where the fuck is my stuff' and 'God I'm gonna puke'.

Whoever kidnapped you really didn't think things through. Security was tight on the second floor but the bottom floor just had a single guy in the kitchen messing with a bag of crackers. You aimed your gun at him and click!

Click!

Clickclickclick!

Shit.

Well that caught his attention. You ducked down right when he reached for his gun, tossing your empty one to the side now that you'd be doing this the hard way. Waiting with bated breath, you took your window of opportunity, lunging when he had to reload. You took him by such surprise that he fumbled to put in another magazine and that allowed you to knock the weapon from his hands and tackle him to the ground. The both of you struggled on the hardwood floors for what felt like hours, but it was only a minute at most. Even in your feverish, dizzy, survival-instincts-only state, you overpowered him and stabbed him with his own knife.

Towering over the body, you gasped for breath, feeling your lungs struggling to expand and contract if you didn't force yourself to focus on the task. Great, now you're sweaty, weak, bloody, and out of breath. Based on how your hands started trembling, your symptoms were getting worse. Pacing around the area, you found your bag on a couch and fished around for the radio, yelling out your callsign before the rest of them would discover why their friends were suddenly so silent over comms.

"Sending coordinates, get a chopper over to exfil ASAP. And a damn medic."

The 141 were back from their own mission when they had heard the news of your distress call. Ghost was on the verge of strangling one of men that was on the team with you if they didn't add the fact that you made a reckless move for the sake of the team. Ghost could agree that it was something that only you would do despite his constant arguing with you and his protectiveness over you. He'd keep an eye out for you from the shadows both on base and in the field, be the one to challenge you to push your limits during your sparring matches, make sure you were well-trained so you could protect yourself. And yet you would instead protect the 141's asses countless times.

Ghost was brooding in the helicopter, well, more like sulking after a mission with you and Soap. During the crossfire, he wasn't able to keep an eye out for his flank and see the grenade flying for him. In a desperate move, you shoved him out of the blast range with all your strength, landing you with a couple burns and injuries, but nothing fatal. You knew he was going to get moody afterwards, giving a knowing glance to Soap before turning back to Ghost and nudging his leg with your boot.

"Hey, L.T, you were in the British S.A.S, right?"

"..."

"Just answer the question! C'mon Ghost, for me? Pleaaaase?"

"Affirmative."

"So back then, if you were to get bathroom duty, would they call you a Loo-tenant?"

"... negative. Was promoted after joining the 141." He turned his head away, and despite his blunt, by-the-book response, you knew he was smirking under that mask of his, especially with how Johnny and you were both snickering your asses off.

"Ghost?"

Simon snapped out of his thoughts and looked back at Soap, visibly concerned for the masked man but reading him all at the same time. Years of working together helped Soap get over the boundary of Ghost's silence and stoicism, and Ghost wasn't the only one looking out for you after all.

"You alright, L.T?"

"Solid, just need a talk with Price."

"I know what you're thinkin', and as much as I'd love to shove it to the bastards, they're going to need us when they come back. Price will come up with something, we just hafta wait 'til then." For once, Soap was the voice of reason and Ghost couldn't argue with his point.

"He's right, you know." Price stood a few feet away from the two in the hall, "Kid's capable of themselves but they're going to need a shoulder to lean on when they get here. Maybe a couple stitches, too."

Price hoped it was only going to be a few stitches. Though he knew it probably wasn't the case. Alongside Roach and Gaz, he had trained you for these situations, ensuring it would never happen and it never did thanks to his mentorship. He saw you as one of his own and ensured that you'd be able to fight tooth and nail so that it would never end up like this. But now that it has, he could only wonder what could've been done to you for you to get captured.

He didn't want to wonder.

"Bloody hell, what did they do to you?" Gaz muttered, watching as you stepped down the ramp with a soldier aiding at your side. There was an attempt to bandage you up on the way, though it only seemed to be temporary since your bandages were already stained with blood and some of it oozed out. Even the bandages around your head didn't stop the crimson liquid from spilling down the side of your face. The soldier passed you to Gaz, immediately urging that your injuries be tended to.

"Something's wrong, look." Roach helped support your other side to allow Gaz to examine you.

With a closer look, Gaz found that your pupils were disturbingly dilated, eyes glazed over in a way that made you almost look dead. You were muttering and mumbling nonsense under your breath, something about the mission and wanting to go home.

Gaz swallowed an anxious breath and nodded, "We'll get you home soon, buddy. Roach, help me take off their gear."

As soon as the other man began unclipping your vest from your body, it seemed something had pulled a trigger in you.

"No... no you're not- don't fucking touch me-!" You slurred, weakly tearing yourself from the hands of your friends. It surprised Gaz that you had the energy to punch his chest with that much force, but it broke his heart all at the same time. Roach guessed that you were so out of it that you could barely comprehend your surroundings, hell, you probably thought you were still in captivity. It hurt to imagine your perspective, and how vulnerable you felt, thinking they were your enemies.

"What's going on here?" Price's voice rose over all the noise as people tried to calm you down, Soap and Ghost following behind him along with Alejandro, who joined them with no hesitance after hearing what happened.

Roach approached them, "I don't know, the Sergent just came back like this, like they're in some kind of haze."

"They're drugged, at least, I think. I took a look at them and they don't even look like they recognize us," Gaz struggled to keep you from falling but you were insistent on getting away from him, from everyone. Thankfully, Ghost had come up from behind you without being noticed and locked you in a hold. You tried to flail even more, but with your weakened state and Ghost's strength, all you could do was yell with sloppy words for him to let go of you. It hurt them all to hear you yowl and yelp like an animal in pain, but they knew that you'd only hurt yourself more if Ghost didn't keep you like this. He forced himself to ignore your cries and clenched his jaw, focusing on keeping his temper and how he was going to let it out when given a chance.

"Steamin' Jesus, Price, I thought this was a cartel recon mission?" Soap seethed at the thought of what might've happened. Torture was one thing, but it was this whole new level of "fucked-up" that had him wanting to snap and tear at the throats of your tormentors.

"It was," Alejandro spoke up, "There was talk of a new drug on the market, released even though it was 'incomplete'. Nobody know that it was more dangerous than it was supposed to be, nobody outside of them." The words left a sour taste in his mouth. Cartels being reckless was nothing new to him, it was something he had seen time and time again. But it was the lack of awareness, the blatant disregard for safety and society, and how they betrayed their own people that made him livid. As a leader, he emphasized his loyalty and dedication to his soldiers, which was why he considered those who worked for and with him to be friends or even family, like you. So to him, if someone had messed with you, they were messing with him and his army as well.

Price glanced in the direction of you and Ghost for a moment, watching you finally begin to calm down from tiring yourself out. His gaze softened after you finally went limp, but still breathing, and he felt a pang of disappointment in himself for the briefest of moments. Maybe if he had known you'd leave so early in the day, he could've better prepared you. Maybe he should've assigned one of the others to join you so you wouldn't be in this predicament. But he didn't know. He didn't expect things would go this far south. None of them did.

"We'll finish the job first and then," Price took one last look as you were taken away on a stretcher, unconscious but writhing with a pained expression.

"We give them hell."

[confietti]

CAN U WRITE FOR SUKUNA IM BEGGING HJFJFJRR

Never Lose Me

you knew sukuna would kill you if he knew where you were right now, but you didn't care. you had it in your airy little head that he was a cheater because of what one of your 'homegirls' told you.

it all started when you were in your shared apartment laid on the bed scrolling through instagram waiting for 'kuna to come home when your 'friend' sent you a picture of him hugging this girl.

you never were the smartest, so you never second-guessed the photo. you on the other hand immediately broke down into tears. sukuna never liked her and always suggested you get better friends for a reason.

he always got weird vibes from her because she continuously tried to make passes at him whenever you weren't around.

you could only imagine your boyfriend's surprise to get drunken texts and voicemails of you telling him to 'go fuck himself' and how you 'don't need him'.

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: [ forwarded an image ]

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: nigga FUCJ you

my supersoaker🫶🏼💞: i thoguth we had somethgin anf you trwest me like thid??? i hste you!

hubby💝: ??? baby? who sent you that???

hubby💝: and are you at the fucking club??

you stared at your phone through teary eyes as you blocked his number and turned off location sharing. you shoved your phone into your purse and continued to drink.

sukuna had been watching from across the bar for probably 20 minutes now. he watched you flirting with the guy you were talking to for maybe the same amount of time. he studied the way you held onto his arm and laughed at all his jokes. it made his blood boil.

“what do you say we take this a step further hm?~” his hand slipped up your thigh and you giggled when he started nibbling on your neck.

“nah fuck this.” your boyfriend slammed his drink on the counter and stormed towards you, angrily shoving people out of the way but he didn't care. his main focus was you.

he didn't say anything as he heaved you over the shoulder like a sandbag, ignoring your protests and the weird looks he got as he exited the bar. he practically threw you in the passenger's seat and locked the door.

the car ride to his house was dead silent. except for your protests and complaints about your boyfriend's behavior.

“Bitch why the fuck did you do all that for?” you stared at him with your arms crossed over your chest in annoyance, glaring at him for an answer that never came.

the rest of the ride was just you looking out the window and light curses underneath your breath of “cheating ass”, “hoe ass”, “worthless ass”.

once you got home, sukuna parked the car and dragged you into his house with a tight grip on your arm.

he walked into his bedroom and threw you down on the bed before locking the door. then sukuna finally spoke after what was hours after not speaking.

“you gonna explain your sudden little tantrum or do i have to fuck the attitude outta you first?”

sukuna chuckled when you still had your arms crossed over your chest, not looking in his direction. your eyes were puffy as you let out little hiccups and sniffles. you were still mad at him for spoiling your fun. how cute.

just then he harshly gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. “it’s really rude to not look people in the eyes when they’re talking to you.”

his hands traveled down to your neck and he squeezed it tightly, you felt a breathy chuckle in your ear before he began to speak.

“so that’s how it’s gonna be, huh ma?”

it was about 20 minutes later and your brain was so foggy to the point where you couldn’t remember how you got into this position.

your boyfriend had you on all fours, one of his hands pulling your hair back into a makeshift ponytail, the other wrapped around your neck pulling your head back to whisper the most disgusting things into your ear.

“you think what you said t’me was nice? you thought it was funny to send me those voicemails and texts while i was working? huh? y’had me worrying my ass off you dumb. fucking. bitch.”

he emphasized those last three words with harsh thrusts, before pulling your head back to tap his fingers at the side of your cheek. “open.” he mumbled before spitting roughly in your mouth. “swallow all that shit.” he spat before shoving your face back into the pillow before you.

he took this time to analyze how small your figure was compared to his. you were so much smaller… so vulnerable… so much easier to manhandle.

sukuna decided to tease you. fucking you slowly, working every inch of his thick cock into your little hole as slowly as he could. he wanted you to memorize every vein and inch. he wanted to make sure you never forget tonight and you should never disobey him ever again.

“wouldn’t have to be this way if you were just a good little girl who followed the rules. tsk.” this had been going on for hours now. the rough fucking, the degradation, even after what? 4 orgasms? he still hasnt had his. you figured out by now that this wasn’t a punishment… he wanted to torture you.

“p-pleasee ryo.. i’m- haa~ s-sorry! wan’ you t’fill me up. please!” he chuckled darkly. “ y’want me to fill you up? huh?” “please! hnghh- m’sorry!” “you never did have any shame did ya hun?”

sukuna’s thrusts began to get sloppier as he was nearing his release. you whimpered for him to slow down as your tear stained face was pressed into the pillow. his balls slapping against your clit with each harsh thrust.

“i won’t f-fuck- i wont slow down. you’re grown, right? if you can go to the bar on your own then you can take this shit like a big girl, right?”

before you knew it hot ropes of cum start spurting out filling your tight cunt. your boyfriend’s thrusts began to slow down until they came to a complete stop.

he slowly pulled out of you, replacing his cock with his fingers to keep his seed in. humming lowly before getting up to get some towels from the bathroom.

you woke up the next morning in his shirt. you tried to get up before feeling an immense pain in your back. you groaned before you felt a large hand rubbing at the small of your back.

“y’wanna talk about your feelings now? if you don’t want too then we can always go for round two. i still have some energy left over.” he smirked down at you.

“also.. this was supposed t’be a surprise but… the girl i was hugging in the picture you sent wasn’t anybody baby. remember when we were apartment shopping and you mentioned you really wanted the one in tokyo?”

you nodded as sukuna pushed some of your hair behind your ear to see your face better.

“it’s ours now.” sukuna thought that nothing could compare to your smile in that very moment as you hugged and peppered kisses across his face while murmuring little ‘thank yous’ in his ear.

“yeah, yeah.” he chuckled and hugged you back. “you could never lose me that easily.”

a/n: thank you so much for this request anon!!! it took me a little while but i really enjoyed writing it. hope you enjoy!! </3!!

© confietti, 2024. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.

[ellebakers]

☆ Jealous boy | Part one (+18)

Ethan Landry x reader

PART TWO

Summary : if he can’t have you, no one else can, especially not chad.

Warnings : violence + mention of death + blood + mention of sex + voyeurism + y/n x chad + cheating.

Ethan had never wanted to kill chad so much as he did now. that asshole was in the next room fucking you. and you moaned louder and louder, but could he blame you ? no never. after all, you thought ethan was in class. and hearing you moan was the most melodious sound he'd ever heard. but it had to be him who had to make you scream. you should call out his name, not his roommate's.

after the woodsboro murders, you and chad got closer, after a while you became a couple, and since then, you have been living bliss.

"shit. chad i'm gonna cum."

"come on baby. cum for me."

ethan rolled his eyes. "baby" that guy didn't deserve to call you that, he's not good enough for you.

when ethan and chad became roommates, the meeks-martin’s son introduced you to each other. that day, ethan will remember it for the rest of his life, you wore a flowered dress that came above your knee, your hair fell in a cascade and you had blocked a pair of sunglasses in it. the brunette thought he was dead and in heaven you looked like an angel.

after that, the more the days passed and the more he fell in love with you. you were so nice to him, always a smile, always a kind word for him. for a while he thought he had a chance with you, until the day he saw chad kissing you. it was when he saw this that he went to his father's house and said "I want to do this, I want to avenge richie." his brother's revenge was just a pretext, he knew it himself, all he wanted was to watch that asshole chad bleed out. after that he could come and comfort you with his words and with his dick. you will be his forever.

one last moan louder than the others and he knew you had come. he never touched you, but he knew when you were done and when you were faking it. more than once he had heard you pretend. like when chad wanted to do it and you didn't dare say no to him, so you faked it to please him. but after chad left to take a shower, you finished the job yourself. ethan had heard you moan silently, and just imagining you touching yourself had made him hard.

that night, he had closed his eyes and then he had let his fantasies take over by jerking off. thinking of you.

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that's it. ghostface was back. your nightmare was beginning again. you had just gotten off work and were walking towards your car when samantha called you with the news. after hanging up with her, you got in and turned the key to start, but it seems that your car doesn't want to run.

you groaned and threw your head back against the headrest. you picked up your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. it rang but no one picked up. you then looked in your contact list and called ethan.

on the first ring, he picked up.

"hi y/n."

you smiled without realizing it. you didn't want to admit it but his voice brought you comfort.

"hi ethan, i'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down. i tried to call chad but he's not answering. i was wondering if you could pick me up."

"yes of course, are you at work ?" he asked you

"I'm in the parking lot in front of the building yes."

"I'm coming."

"thank you ethan."

"no need to thank me. wait for me in your car."

"ok."

he hung up and you put your phone on the passenger seat. it was about ten minutes by car from chad and ethan's apartment, you just had to wait ten short minutes, you'll be fine.

time passed and you started freaking out. at each outside noise you jumped. you took deep breaths but nothing helped your state. suddenly, a ding indicated a new message.

you took your phone and an unknown number appeared, followed by a photo and a message. "

Looks like chad has other things to do.

you pressed on the photo to enlarge it, but you quickly regretted your decision. chad, your chad was shirtless, his head between Tara's legs, on your bed in the Carpenter sisters' apartment.

you put down your phone and started crying. you had been stabbed a year ago, but it hurt even more.

again your phone rang, but to indicate an incoming call from an unknown number, without the slightest hesitation you picked it up.

you swallowed your saliva so as not to burst into tears.

"it's you, isn't it ?"

the deep voice that had traumatized you was heard.

"yes."

"If you want to kill me, then go ahead, I'll let it go. I'm sick of all this."

"you've had enough of what y/n ?"

you closed your eyes and let the tears flow. "amber and richie killed me a year ago, ever since i've been wandering around like a fucking ghost so i'm the one asking you. kill me."

there was a long silence, as if the person on the other side of the phone was thinking. "no. I'm not going to kill you. you're going to live, and live for yourself, not for those assholes you call your friends who don't deserve you, and especially not for that son of a bitch boyfriend."

then he hung up. It was the most honest exchange you've had in a year with anyone.

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that evening, ethan arrived, seeing your face streaming with tears, he asked you what was going on so you told him everything. putting aside your discussion with ghostface.

you were sitting in ethan's car when he asked you

"where are you going to sleep ?"

you hadn't thought about it, but now that he brought it up, you had nowhere to go. you couldn't come home and act like nothing was with tara. and you couldn't sleep at ethan's since his roommate was your boyfriend who cheated on you.

"I have no idea." You think for a while then an idea comes to you "Can you drop me off at the hotel ? I think it'll be fine."

The car came to a red light and he turned to you.

"Okay, but I stay with you."

You shook your head, smiling slightly "Ethan you don't have to, you should-"

He cut you off by raising his hand "Ghostface is outside and there's no way I'm leaving you alone."

you were silent and then nodded. Ethan, happy that his plan was working, drove off again when the light turned green.

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obviously the only hotel available only had one bed in the room, but that was better than nothing so you convinced ethan to share the bed.

you growled "I'm dying to take a shower, but I don't have clean clothes."

ethan took off his t-shirt and handed it to you. you couldn't help staring at his sculpted body. he hid a lot of things under his shy boyish air.

"here, take this." he brought you back to reality and you shook your head slightly to scare away the dirty ideas that were merging in your head. you thanked him and left for the bathroom. you undressed and put your laundry in your work bag. the hot water that attacked your skin relieved you, you passed the shower head of your whole body, having fun adjusting the water pressure, then your mind thought of ethan and his body of gods. you should have thought about your conversation with ghostface or chad and tara who were probably still having sex in your bed, but ethan was invading your thoughts and without realizing it you put the water pressure to maximum and slipped it between your legs. the feeling was so good that you let out a moan, you continued to pass the shower head between your legs and instinctively you pressed it against your core and rubbed yourself up and down against it, you closed your eyes, feeling the orgasm coming , you were on the verge of cumming when Ethan knocked on the door.

"um, yes, I'm done, I'm coming."

great, another ruined orgasm.

you rinsed off and got out of the shower. once dry and dressed you went back to the room where ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed. you approached him and you share an embarrassed smile, you sat next to him and let the silence settle between you two.

he cleared his throat "um, i'm so sorry about chad. i didn't believe him like that."

you exhaled loudly "me neither."

he half turned to you "but I'm pretty happy it's over between you guys."

you frown "what ?"

"he doesn't deserve you. honestly you're the nicest, smartest, prettiest girl I know. you deserve someone who treats you right, someone like." then he stopped realizing that you were watching him.

you put a hand on his thigh "go ahead, continue ethan."

the position of your hand on his thigh distracted him but he tried not to show anything. "someone like me." he whispered.

and that's all you needed, you took his face in your hands and kissed him, his hands come to rest on your hips automatically. he pulled you on him, you put your legs on each side of him and you sat on him, something hard was felt against your pussy completely naked since your underwear was in your bag, you continued to embrace. he passed his tongue against your lips as if to ask permission so you opened your mouth and he inserted his tongue inside in order to dance with yours.

his cock was getting harder and harder so you decided to test his urge and you rubbed against him, making you moan against him, he pushed himself off you and threw his head back while growling. "you're going to kill me y/n." you took advantage of this opportunity to suck and lightly bite his neck, which made him moan. hearing it sent an electric charge through you. chad wasn't vocal during the act, and that disappointed you a bit, so hearing ethan the being made you wet. "I rather hope that it is not you who will kill me after having fucked me." you tell him about the joke but his gaze darkens, he takes your face in his hands. "I will never let anyone hurt you, you and me are forever." you were going to answer but he passed his hand between your legs and started to play with your clitoris, the sensation made you moan loudly, you closed your eyes and put your head on his shoulder.

his breathing was getting faster and faster as he inserted one and then two fingers inside you. "You're so fucking wet. All this just for me ?"

you nodded against him but your answer did not suit him, with his other hand he slightly pulled your hair back to make you look at him. you never thought he could be so dominating, but you loved it.

"Are you wet for me ?"

"Yes Ethan."

He looked at your lips smiling "Perfect."

suddenly he withdrew his fingers and swapped positions pinning you to the mattress. he took both of your hands and brought them above your head.

"don’t move."

he got up slightly and took off his belt, which he wrapped around your wrists and squeezed tightly to tie them. you stared at him, surprised, like the shy ethan you knew was gone. he got up, while looking at you he knelt at the end of the bed, then he spread your thighs with both hands, he took one and put it on his shoulder, you gasped when his tongue came into contact with your pussy, you started to move your pelvis for a little more friction but he put a firm hand on your belly, preventing you from moving as he continued his attacks chaining: sucking and licking. you wanted to touch him but your bound hands prevented you, you writhed in pleasure and moaned louder and louder as he devoured you until your orgasm invaded you.

You were trying to catch your breath when he got up, you didn't see him but while he was devouring you, he opened his fly and lowered his pants and his boxers and he started jerking off, you were watching his cock hard and biting your lip "let me help you with that ethan." he chuckled lightly shaking his head "I want it inside you sweetie."

you smiled at him and spread your legs "so what are you waiting for"

he didn't wait any longer to sink into you, and that night you didn't sleep much, ethan took you, your back to the mattress, your legs around your waist. then from behind, a handful of your hair in your hands, or even sitting on him, her back turned to him. you stopped counting after your fourth orgasm.

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the next morning you were woken up by your phone vibrating, you opened your eyes, the daylight attacking you then you strove to find your phone, once in hand you picked up.

"Y/n!" Sam was screaming crying

"Sam, what’s going on ?" You got up and looked for ethan's t-shirt which had been taken off when in the middle of the night while in the bathroom he had taken you against the wall.

She continued to cry. "It's Chad and Tara, they're dead."

You froze and dropped your phone when you saw the ghostface costume hanging next to the bathroom mirror.

Ethan came up behind you and hugged you. "Now it's you and me my love."

[imsilay]

How about König rescuing his obsession from an abusive boyfriend and then claiming her while he watches helpless?

LATIBULE

mdni, cw: abuse, cursing, hair pulling, punching, beating, broken bones? (idk im terrible at tagging :/ )

word count: 0.8k

i’m gonna make pt.2 :) edit: POSTED! here

cr: paldedpul on twt (i’m not sure)

Your cheek burned and you gasped with pain when your boyfriend hit you across the face. “You fucking slut. You’re no good for anything.” he hissed and grabbed a fistful of your hair. He yanked it back and caused so much pain that your mouth fall agape. You tried to reach his hand and push him away from your hair but he didn’t gave you time to reach. Another hand found your throat and he pinned your back against his chest, pulling your hair and squeezing the oxygen out of your lungs. All you could do was squirm and cry. You felt so pathetic, helpless. The man you loved was taking his anger out on you because things didn’t go as he wanted.

At the time you thought everything was over, the door broke open. Your boyfriend’s head snapped towards the door and his grip loosened. Your body fell down and you coughed, gasping for air. Before you could process what was going on, your boyfriend’s body fall next to you with a loud thud. Then someone sat on his stomach and punched him in the face, hard, so hard that you heard his jaw break. The man didn’t stop. He was furious. How could that bastard hit his little one? How could he hurt you while König was afraid to touch your hair? Who did he think he is? The only reason König let him to be with you was the smile on your face when you talked about him. And yet, that bastard was here, hurting his little one. A deadly mistake. Punch after punch, König mercilessly hit your boyfriend’s face without caring about his pleading.

“‘m gonna break your bones until you pass out from the pain. Then i will do it again, again and again. Until there’s no broken bone in your body. Arschloch.” König hissed. Then he grabbed him by the collar and pulled his body up, as if he was a bag of potatoes. König threw him in the chair, his face was covered in blood and he was groaning in pain. “But first…” König forced himself to look at you. His heart ached as he saw your tears. That was the last thing you deserved. He just wanted to snap that stupid boyfriend’s -not anymore, now he was a living dead- neck. “Beg forgiveness from meine Königin.” (My queen.) König grabbed his hair and pulled his head up to face you. Your boyfriend was crying and begging for forgiveness from you for half an hour. Whenever you tried to say it was enough, König pulled his hair harder and forced him to beg with a broken jaw some more. It was just the beginning of the endless pain Konig would cause him.

After he decided it was enough, Konig tied him down to the chair and walked to you. With his hands covered in your ex’s blood and trembling uncontrollably, König fell on his knees and embraced your body tightly, until every centimeter of your body was covered by his massive frame. "Don't cry." he mumbled like it was hurting him physically to see you in pain. "What that arschloch did to you?" He kissed the top of your head and caressed your hair with his trembling hand. He was so afraid to touch you, you barely felt the hand on your hair. "It hurt." you sobbed. As your cries increased, you clung to his body, burying your head into his neck and wetting his t-shirt with your tears - he hugged you tighter. “Meine Königin…” he whimpered like an injured animal. “Don’t cry, bitte. I beg you.” his whole body tensed with the want for your ex’s blood. He wanted to draw blood, to cause pain from beyond that bastard caused you. “‘m gonna kill that bastard.” he mumbled and kissed your hair again. He was using all his willpower not to fall for his anger. “Say something.” he buried his head into your hair and held you tighter. Trying to contain his anger. Hearing you cry was worse than the torment he received in his past. It was worse than the time when they cut a deep wound on his chest or pressed hot iron on his back. He wished for another wound rather than seeing you cry that much.

By the time your sobs stopped he was at the edge of going crazy. “König.” you finally mumbled and his heart skipped a beat. “Ja, meine Königin?” he immediately answered, like if you command him to kill he wouldn’t think twice. Your ex’s pained groans filled your ears as you lifted your head from his neck and looked into his eyes. “How did you know?” you questioned. Because you haven’t told anyone about your abusive boyfriend. "I thought i was going to... " he shushed you by slamming his lips into yours, your head was now inside his mask. He pulled your body into his lap and hungrily kissed your lips. He was gentle though. The sudden want to possess and claim you as his was overwhelming, but he didn’t want to force you for anything after your traumatizing experience. "Let’s get you out of here, meine Königin." he mumbled after the kiss and kissed the bruised skin of your neck.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

also i want to thank y’all for all support on my previous post. it really made my day :’)

[nemesyaaa]

beautiful madness. mean!stepbro!rafe x reader.

warnings : rafe cameron. dubcon. toxic behavior. pet names. stepcest. dark content. smut (minors DNI).

“ where have you been?”

you had just come back from a night out with the pogues, honestly, the best night of your life. you were having so much fun that you didn't notice the time passing. and now you were dealing with that. well no, with rafe. your stepbro.

“ outside. sorry.”

he chuckled lightly, playfully stroking his jaw as he smiled at you. it wasn't reassuring, especially since he seemed to have had a bad day.

“rafe, i’m sorry okay.”

“no, you’re not sorry but it’s okay, sweetheart.” he said as he came closer, gently caressing your cheek. “absolutely, no problem.”

and you believed it before he threw you against the wall, your back slamming against the white surface.

“you’re so damn mad!”

“i thought you already knew that, princess, but i guess i overestimated you.”

you slapped him so hard that his face moved a little, before you started running around the huge Cameron house.

" i fear, you need to slap me better if you want to hurt me, sweetheart. " he said with a smirk. "do you really want to play ? it's my house, so not a good move of you to play hide&seek in this. i know all the rooms. be smart little bunny or the mad hunter will kill you. “

you just wanted to sleep, you were tired. you had alcohol in your blood and you found yourself in ward's office, a - normally forbidden room trying to escape your stepbro.

you covered your mouth with your hand, trying not to make a sound. you were afraid of the slightest noise you heard. you could hear his footsteps in the house, the way he was getting closer. his shadow moved so quickly.

when rafe had found you under the desk, a playful smile on his lips, his hand had savagely grabbed your throat. it was so violent that you had trouble breathing, you could feel his fingers tightening like a necklace around your skin.

“don’t run away from me. you like to be chased but you're afraid of being find, look at me princess, kill your mean stepbro with your lovely bunny eyes. not fun anymore ? no more playing ? ”

" i just hate you. i just want you to leave me alone."

" cry harder, and you will probably make me cum in my pants. see ? how you make me so hard. "

you spat in his face, you hated him so much and you just wanted him to go to jail.

"you want to spit so badly? ok, now my turn. open that mouth."

you kept your mouth shut and he laughed.

“you really want to see me mad. i try to be cool with you but now, i had enough.” he had tightened his grip around your throat.

he had used the desk to lay you down on it, forcing your legs apart to slide between them.

you were so small compared to him, disappearing under his big beefy body hidden in a suit.

“since you really want to be tamed, let me tame you. time to be a good stepbro and educate my dumb stepsista on how to be a good girl. ”

he had removed his belt, before making a necklace around your neck with it.

“i beg you, leave me alone!”

"so cute when you beg like that but it's already too late, bunny. next time, don't be such a dumb brat. "

you tried to push him, kicking his stomach. but he had grabbed your foot, and hooked you by the jaw, forcing your lips to open.he spat in it, his fingers digging into your cheeks.

“you better swallow.”

you swallowed under the pressure of his hand.

" the more you play, the meaner i will be, understand that ? “

he had pushed his fingers even harder into your jaw, forcing you to nod.

“ i’ll tell your father everything!”

“don’t forget the part where you came on my dick, squirting all over me, because you are anything but the innocent girl you pretend to be. now open those legs. your big stepbro is going to take good care of your pussy.”

you couldn't argue with him, he was stronger and heartless.

“ let me kneel for you princess, see how nice i am to you ? yes, tell me how i am nice to you “

“ i hate you so much, with all my heart. “

“ you're too nice to hate someone. now let's see if you hate me as much as you like to say.”

you could tell rafe had changed. ever since he got his buzzcut, he wasn't the same. he was a different man, even more dangerous.

he knelt down at the level of your pussy, while you were still lying on the table. he loved the sight of the soaked fabric, the shape of your lower lips through the underwear. he had placed his nose on your wet area, inhaling your part's scent.

he had started to insert two fingers in you, wanting to prepare you for what came next. he was surprised to see how tight you were. his fingers moved quickly, forcing the access inside your sopping hole. as he diving into it, he felt your walls contract around him. and he loved it. you arched your back, your hips moving as he scissored you. soft moans left out the corner of your dizzy mouth.

“ rafe…”

“ yes, don't forget who makes you feel this way, who owns this pussy better than anyone. i can't wait to put my dick inside you.”

you let out a cry on the third finger. you could feel your hole widen slightly, forcely opening as the fourth was inserted. he didn’t wait before fingering you harder, your clit buried in his mouth. he pulled it, pinched it, teased it between his teeth, before rolling the cap around his tongue.

“ not a brat anymore, must feel so good. you loved to be fingering by your stepbro ? “

he had slapped your pussy with his hand, before spitting inside. when he stood up, his huge body hovering over yours, he took off his shirt. his muscles were massive, there was no point in fighting against this man.

he had taken off his pants and boxers, pulling them down to his feet. he was completely hard, the tip of his cock pointing against your cunt.

“put a condom. i don't want to be pregnant."

“you wanted to act like a brat, you have to take responsibility to the end, sweetheart. see? your consequences have an impact.”

" i'm serious ! "

"and me even more. now, shut up and take this cock. see ? how hard am i for you."

he was tired of hearing you. he had covered your entire mouth with his huge veiny hand.

he was big, and your hole had a hard time taking him. you were in pain, terribly in pain, you gritted your teeth every time he managed to enter a little more.

“it will fit, even if i have to force it.”

the feeling was hell, tears were streaming down your cheeks. when your pussy had finally opened up, your lower lips completely parted around his large size deep inside you, you had started to feel better. he thrust, his hips slamming against your body, his balls slapping your ass. your mascara was running down your face.

he was fucking you roughly, your body pressed against the table, your throat disappearing under his hand.

“ should i take a picture ? in case, you forget the whore you are for your stepbro. “

he kept hitting your spot with his big cock, while looking at your tits boucing.

he had forced fingers into your mouth, turning your moans into babbles. you were drooling and dripping, your lips circling around him.

“ i can't worship you, you already such a big slut. all this fighting for nothing, princess. you're just a girl who wanted to be fucked so bad. tired of your useless sextoys ? you wanted something better and bigger, something that can make you fulfill you. i got you. after all, i'm your brother. nobody can understand you better than me. “

you were making a full mess, spitting and whining on his fingers, while your body arched every time rafe moved inside you.

“ i really want to take a picture of you. “

seeing that you didn't answer, he continued

"every time you don't answer me, i will pull out my dick. let's see how long you last"

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry”

"yes, i know you're sorry, you already said that. try something else."

“yes, take a picture of me”

“should i send it to your friends or keep it for myself? maybe, it's time for you to show me how grateful you are. “

all his thrusts harsh, making you moaning so loud. his heavy length driving into your walls, while he recorded with his phone.

“ look at the camera, show how pretty you are when you take your stepbro's cock.”he lifted your thighs, before slamming hard into you, and sliding back and forth.

he pulled out his dick, rubbing the leaking tip against your ripped slit, while you begged him to not play like that, and just take you fully. you cried harder, your tears against his large palm.

he had entered you again, one hand gripping your tiny hip, he held you in his big hands while he fucked you so hard.

he opened his mouth, slow spit falling onto your clit before he rolled his thumb over it. he had started to tease the little pearl, forming circles, taking it between his fingers, toying with it. you had starry, pleading eyes. you squirmed, but still stayed under his hand.

“ don't be such a crybaby. you can't act like a child when i’m fucking you like that, princess. “

“ rafe…rafe !”

“ yes, say my name again and again. this dick deep ball inside you really makes you so dumb. still hate me ? because i bet, this pussy loves me so much, the way it squeezes me. “

he was getting close, so close to cumming. your vagina spasmed around his cock, contracting more and more until he let out a groan. you had known he had spilling into you. he had continued to move within your walls, even though you had reached orgasm and so had he. you could feel his cum dripping from your abused slit.

when he stopped, you sucked him on your knees, licking his leaking tip, he had released his last drops into your mouth. your tongue had cleaned everything. you had also licked his balls, knowing that men loved it. you tugged them between your lips, lapping each one. you released one of them with a loud pop. you pressed it between your hands.

“ and you tell me you were so afraid of me ? you're just an actress, princess. but don't worry, i will make you the top 1. i have such a nice video of you taking my cock. “

“ keep it to yourself ! “

“i think you can beg better than that, especially when i fuck you so well. “

“ why are you doing this ? "

“because i can. and besides, there are cameras in this office. so i really think you're going to have to learn to beg better than that if you want those precious videos back.”

[daisymbin]

- [ ] What about a Dino x reader in reference to when Dino says “they [his hyungs] take away his hope? The hyungs somehow managed to convince Dino that reader broke up with him as a prank. Maybe by removing every trace of her in his room and when he tries to contact her it won’t go through? But have it end on a happy ending, maybe where reader comes back to the dorm to find Dino crying like a baby and reassures him this is a prank

oops, all love! - lee chan

warnings: none! just the boys pranking our baby dino!

pairings: lee chan x reader

genre: not so silly pranks

wc: 1.2k

a/n: thank you for this req! I genuinely enjoyed writing this, such an interesting idea, I didn't think of it haha, hope you enjoyed it! 🥰

check out my masterlist! // chan's m.list

“chan-ah, what did you do this time?” jeonghan's faux worried voice rang in chan's ears from behind. vernon side eyes jeonghan because even he thinks this is, in his words, “going too far, you know how obsessed chan is with her, he's going to freak out.” jeonghan can only secretly smirk behind chan's back as he tries to stifle his bubbling laugh, he can only imagine chan’s face right now.

“hyung…I didn't do anything…was the dinner I made last night not to her liking? did I forget to clean the house? but the house is spotless-”

“yeah, spotless like how there's not a trace of her in here.” this time, jeonghan couldn't hide his laugh, which only cause chan to whip his head around in anger.

“seriously? you're choosing to laugh now?”

vernon lightly tugs at the back of jeonghan's shirt, hoping this would somehow hint at jeonghan to reel it back and ease on the teasing. it was a prank afterall, not that chan is aware of course. jeonghan cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure calm, “how about you try calling her? it's better to talk it out with her than to assume the worst. maybe she went on a sudden trip to her parent's or something.”

“where's my phone?” chan asked hurriedly in a panicked voice. he could only hope you'd pick up as soon as the phone rang. “I think you left it with soonyoung earlier. he's in the living room.” jeonghan said calmly, he watched as chan left the bedroom in hurried steps before he turned his head to vernon, laughing, “this prank is going so much better than expected, I think we underestimated his love for her.”

“why is it not going through?” chan whisper-shouted as the panic started to bubble tenfold now. he tried again, dialing your number, but all he got was the same frustrating sound. the line was dead. he could feel his heart racing, anxiety coursing through his blood like ice water.

“hyung!” he called out, his eyes glassy with tears threatening to spill, his face pale yet red. “i can't get through! it's..it's not working, why is it not working?!”

unbeknownst to chan, soonyoung had changed your contact number to his own number & then proceeded to block chan, making sure none of his texts or calls went through.

joshua who was loving how this prank was unfolding way too much added, “or maybe she finally broke up with you?” he knew how hard this would hit chan, the boys has been telling chan jokingly, teasingly, lovingly, how you're way too good for him, that they cant understand why you would pick him out of all people.

“shut up!” chan shot back, panic turning into frustration. he could feel his heart drop. “you guys can’t seriously be doing this! not to me! why would you even say that!”

“you’ll never know unless you ask her,” jeonghan replied, still teasing, somehow trying to rile him up even more.

“how am i supposed to do that if i can’t even call her?!” chan threw his phone onto the couch, his emotions bubbling to the surface, the tears finally freefalling.

“calm down,” vernon chimed in. “just wait for her to come home. maybe she went out or something.” what a party-pooper joshua thought.

but as the minutes passed, chan’s anxiety only grew. he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

finally, 45 minutes into the ordeal, the door swung open, and you stepped into the apartment, your arms full of grocery bags. but the sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks: chan was sitting on the floor, surrounded by his hyungs, who were pretending to comfort him, but their faces betrayed their amusement which only added to your confusion.

“chan?” you called out, dropping the grocery bags as you rushed towards him.

he looked up, his eyes red and puffy from crying, his face etched with despair. “oh god….i thought you left me! i thought… i thought….!” he sputtered, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“what’s going on?” you demanded, your heart racing as you glanced at the boys, who were trying their hardest to stifle their laughter.

“please dont leave me..just tell me what i did wrong and i'll change!” chan cried, looking genuinely heartbroken. “whatever i did wrong or said wrong, if i hurt you….i didn’t mean it! please don’t leave me! i’ll do better! i promise!”

your heart sank at the sight of him so broken, confusion flooding your mind. “what are you talking about? i just got home! i didn’t break up with you!”

the boys exchanged glances, their grins barely concealed as they continued to pretend to console chan.

“chan, please don’t cry! it’s okay!” seungkwan chimed in, putting a hand on his shoulder, but it only made chan wail louder, he seemingly did not hear your words as he continued, “i’m begging you! don’t leave me!” he cried, his voice cracking as he fell to his knees, hands clutching both your ankles as he desperately looks up at you. “i’m so sorry! i’ll fix everything! just give me another chance!”

“chan, what are you talking about?!” you repeated, kneeling down to face him, your heart breaking at his display of emotion. your hands come up to cup his face tenderly as your thumbs work to wipe his tears away. his blur vision turning clearer.

just then, soonyoung could no longer hold back his laughter and burst out, “we’re just messing with you! she didn’t break up with you!”

the room erupted into laughter as chan suddenly halts his crying as he muttered “wait… what?” he looks at you bewildered, but you were already looking at the boys and then back at chan, who was still on his knees, now wearing a confused and shock expression, though the relief on his face was clear.

“we thought it would be funny to see how far you’d freak out!” jeonghan added, unable to contain his amusement, “we really did underestimate your love for her.”

chan blinked at you, then at the boys, his face a mixture of confusion and disbelief. “so… this was all a prank?” he said slowly, still trying to process what just happened as he hands still stayed wrapped around your ankles firmly.

you couldn’t help but laugh even though your heart swelled at how much chan cared for having you in his life, finally seeing the humor in the situation. “chan-ah, i’m not going anywhere. stop crying, hm?” you said, your lips find his forehead as you continued wiping his tears away. seeing his crying slowly coming to an end, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, chan finally let out a shaky laugh, relief flooding his features. “you guys are the worst, truly taking my hope away from me…” he muttered, shaking his head as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“maybe next time, don’t take it so seriously,” vernon teased, and you rolled your eyes at the boys, knowing this wouldn’t be the last of their antics.

[demonpiratehuntress]

period pain

OPLA!Zoro x F!Reader

A/N: This is the Zoro period one-shot I mentioned in my previous post.

"Luffy, if you take a single thing off my plate I will stuff you in a fucking blender."

An inhuman growl left your lips as you shot a withering glare at your captain, pulling your plate closer to you. The younger boy looked taken aback by your threat, his hand retracting slowly in slight fear. Usopp and Sanji stared at you with their jaws dropped, Zoro raised an eyebrow, and Nami looked unfazed.

"What are you guys looking at?" You snapped, turning your glare on the rest of them.

They all looked away, mumbling apologies, except Zoro. You rolled your eyes, grumbling something about him being so stubborn and tough. He would have said something about it, but his feelings for you stopped him. He's seen you angry, but this was something else. And he'd rather not risk saying something regrettable to you while you were clearly bothered by something.

"(Name), can you please..." Usopp gulped, "Pass me the salt."

You practically threw the salt shaker in the poor guy's hands, your deathly glare not leaving your face. You ate your food aggressively, attacking it like it was the reason for your anger. The rest of the crew sat in silence, even Luffy not wanting to aggravate you more - and that was saying a lot. Nami was trying her hardest not to laugh, which confused the boys, who didn't understand why such a situation would be funny. But she knew what it was.

"You guys are idiots," she snorted when you'd left the table.

"And why's that?" Zoro asked, folding his arms over his chest. "Do you know what's wrong?"

"It's so obvious," she confirmed, then backtracked, "Oh, wait. You guys really don't know?"

Their blank, clueless expressions made Nami sigh.

A little while later, you hobbled into the kitchen for dinner. But this time you weren't mad, you were groaning and clutching your stomach tightly, earning concerned glances all around. But because of earlier, everyone was too afraid to say a word. Except Zoro.

"Go back to your room."

"W-what?" Your eyes widened, then glossed over with tears.

He instantly cursed himself and his monotonous voice. He hadn't meant it to sound harsh or anything, but from the way you looked at him he knew you had taken it the wrong way. And when the tears actually fell, guilt ripped through him and he felt an unusual pain in his chest.

"Zoro-" Nami started.

"No, it's okay," you said quietly, turning around, only to feel that familiar feeling of something wet down south.

"You're bleeding!"

Embarrassment washed through you and you instantly turned back around, trying to cover it, but the blood soaked the front of your shorts as well. You instantly regretted wearing such light-coloured shorts, but you hadn't expected your period for another two days. But now, seeing them all staring, you felt humiliated and ashamed, and the tears fell faster.

"Someone get her a damn blanket," Nami practically growled at the gobsmacked men, before coming over and helping you to the counter.

You refused to look at the green-haired swordsman, but you soon realised he was no longer in the room. You internally groaned, then began crying even more because you felt as if you had disgusted him. Nami tried to comfort you, but you barely heard her as you felt the sadness of impending rejection mixing with your already unstable emotions. 

What happened next was beyond anything you could have imagined.

You felt a blanket being draped across your shoulders, seconds before you were lifted into a pair of familiar, strong arms. You quickly covered your tear-stained face with the blanket, not wanting to meet his eyes as he carried you to your room.

"Don't do that."

"What?" You choked out, your voice still weak and soft.

"Don't hide," Zoro clarified. "I want to see your face."

"Why?" You slowly removed the blanket from your face.

"You're pretty."

Your heart hammered in your chest when you heard that, sadness immediately dissipating. You couldn't believe what you had just heard, but it made your heart swell knowing he really thought that. You felt your cheeks heat up, and the familiar feeling of butterflies that you always got around him.

"I'm crying. And bleeding."

"Nami told us what's wrong," he looked down at you, and his eyes gleamed with concern, "It's natural."

Before you could say anything else, he set you down. In a hammock. With a start, you realised he'd brought you to his room instead. You opened your mouth to say something, but he was already walking away to his closet. Your words died in your throat when he pulled out his own clothes and offered them to you.

"Change. I'll wait outside."

He started towards the door, but you stopped him, sniffing, "Thank you."

He felt his own heart swell when he saw how happy his actions had made you, and it sparked some hope in him that maybe you felt the same way. Not knowing what to say, and also wanting to hide his oncoming blush, he just nodded and quickly exited to let you change. You looked down at his clothes, your own blush dusting your cheeks. As you changed into them, you realised you'd need underwear.

"Z-Zoro?" You called, blushing harder.

He was in the room in less than a second, his eyes widening when he saw you pants-less but with the blanket covering your lower half. He coughed, trying hard not to blush, "Yeah?"

"I need...underwear," you said quietly, feeling more embarrassment come on.

"Oh."

You started to get up, thinking you'd rather get it yourself since he was clearly uncomfortable, but he stopped you, "Stay. I'll ask Nami to bring it for you." Then he reached down to grab your bloodstained clothes, and your eyes widened.

"No! You don't have to-"

"(Name)," he sighed, looking up at you, "Shut up and let me take care of you."

You would have probably burst into tears again if anyone else had told you to shut up, but the words that followed it were enough to comfort you and make you relax back into the hammock. You bit your lip, flustered and embarrassed but feeling much better already knowing he was going to - and he wanted to - take care of you.

A while later, you were dressed in his clothes and relaxing in his hammock, your heart thundering as you looked around his room. He hadn't decorated, being the simple man he was, but just the fact that it was his brought you more comfort. You felt calmer here, like the room itself was reducing your stress and pain. Your cramps had subsided, but that was because of the hot soup that Zoro had brought you which he had aggressively demanded Sanji make. The man in question had disappeared somewhere, but came in just as you were starting to wonder where.

"How you feeling?"

"Better," you admitted. "Thanks to you."

He sat down next to you on a chair he'd brought in, "Stop thanking me."

"But-" You were cut off by another wave of cramps, groaning loudly and curling up into a ball.

He shot up again, "What? What's wrong?"

"More...cramps..." You managed to get out, whining and whimpering in pain.

"Should I get more soup?"

"N-No, just..." You blushed at the idea you had, wondering if he would really do it. "Could you...maybe lie down with me?"

Instantly his cheeks warmed up. Unlike many people would think, Zoro was easily flustered by requests like that coming from you. He'd long dreamed of laying with you in his hammock, you on his chest with his arms around you, but he hadn't ever expected it to really happen. His heart was beating faster than it usually did, as always when he was around you, but he happily obliged despite his nervousness in doing so. You shifted to give him space, letting him slip onto the hammock beside you.

"You might not be comfortable with it, and it's totally okay if you, arent, but-" You groaned in pain, then continued, "Can you please put your hand here?" You placed a hand over the spot, and he almost choked on air when he realised how far down it was. You saw his expression, and your eyes widened, "I-I'm sorry, you don't-"

His warm hand settled over that spot before you finished, "I want to help."

You blushed, "Well...your hand might help better inside."

His eyes widened, but he slowly slipped his hand in and settled it over that same spot, and was about to ask if that was right when he looked at your face and saw you visibly relax. That gave him his answer. When he started rubbing slowly, the pained look on your face completely disappeared.

"That feels really good."

He smiled, then guided your head to his chest as he slowly relaxed as well. You closed your eyes, mumbling something about how you never knew such peace existed during your period. Another unusual bout of pride swelled in his chest, knowing he could help without words, because those were not his strong suit.

"Can I kiss you?"

He was surprised to hear you ask, and looked down to see your eyes on his lips. He leaned in without saying anything and captured your lips with his own, kissing you slowly and softly. The kiss was much gentler than you expected it to be, but you weren't complaining because his lips were soft and warm, and you leaned into him even more, deepening the kiss. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered around wildly, but this time you didn't try to calm them because you loved the way he made you feel. He pulled away too soon, but pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You should sleep. You look tired."

"I am tired," you complained, "But I don't want to sleep. What if I wake up and you're gone? And I'm in my own bed, and this was all a dream?"

He chuckled, finding it adorable how sleepy you sounded, "I promise I'll be here when you wake up. You and I are both staying right here."

"Okay."

That 'okay' was so innocent and childlike, making you much cuter to him. You yawned once, before closing your eyes again and getting comfortable on his broad chest. He held you close, and you fell asleep knowing you had the best caretaker watching over you.

[princessxt]

Hi! Could you do an imagine where dean and sam have a younger sister and she has a nightmare and ends up sleeping between her brothers?

omg, sorry for the delay, I really was lacking creativity!!

You can make a request in the comments or by asking me a question!

(Please don't be shy to ask, I'm very happy when I have a request to write)

You can see the list of who I write about here

"The Monster Is Gone"

Pairing(s): Dean/Sam Winchester x Sister Reader

Gender: Angst, fluffy

Warnings: Nightmares, monsters, lots of blood and disturbing writing for more sensitive readers

——————♥︎♥︎——————

My childhood memories were never clear, only blurry images and meaningless phrases wandered through my mind when I tried hard to remember.

A part of me thanks my brain for not allowing me to remember, since I knew the images would be too disturbing for a budding teenager, but when Dad went hunting, disappeared and I had to be under the care of my older brothers during the hunts, everything changed.

I still remember when I had the first memory, it was after a hunt where a student came back from the dead seeking revenge. We were in the car, Dean was driving, and Sam was by his side, in silence while I was in the back seat, still processing the information of the case when the memory came. A blonde woman in pajamas ran through the hallways of a house with a child in her arms, who I soon realized was me.

Over the next few days, I began to dream about it, and as the dreams went on, the images became clearer. One day I realized it was nighttime, and the girl carrying me was wearing red pajamas. Two days later, I realized that the pajamas weren't red, they were white, but they were stained with blood. It was on that day that I started to avoid sleeping as much as possible, afraid of finding out whose blood was on her clothes.

That was 4 months ago, and during that time, each day that passed I saw a little more of that night, and now I knew that the woman was my mother, and the blood on her clothes was my father's, but the worst part was knowing that there was something following me and my mother.

I never told my brothers about this, I know they would be worried, and we have too many things to worry about, like ghosts and demons, and I didn't want to take their minds off work.

We were coming back from a hunt, Dean was driving, Sam was in the passenger seat sleeping, and I was in the back seat, trying my best to avoid falling asleep, but the book I had in my hands to keep me awake wasn't working, and little by little, I rested my head against the window, and fell asleep.

And there I was, crying in my mother's lap while she held me against her chest, with her body against the door, the thing that was chasing us walked calmly through the hallways, and slowly reached behind the door where we were. He knocked once. My mother put her hand over her mouth to keep from making noise. He knocked a second time. I could feel my mother's hands shaking. The third knock was so loud that my mother was pushed from the door, detaching me from her body. When we looked back, he was there.

He was tall, had no face, just a blood-stained mouth and sharp teeth. His fingers were long, and his nails were also stained with blood, just like the black suit he was wearing.

My mother, in an attempt to protect me, pushed me against the wall and covered me with her body, making a human shield. I could feel her tears wetting my pink pajamas as I heard her scream.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, PLEASE! SHE'S JUST A CHILD"

In response, he let out a frightening laugh. In a few seconds, he pulled my mother and threw her to the floor, while she tried to fight, but the thing was strong and held her without effort. The next scene was the worst.

He opened his mouth, showing his huge teeth and then immediately struck her neck, making blood gush all over the room.

I watched that scene, cowering and scared in the corner of the room while I screamed, begging him to let my mother go, but that must have made him feel even hungrier for her, since he raised his long arm and struck her belly, cutting her skin with his sharp nails.

At that moment, I looked at my mother, who was staring at me with her lifeless eyes, wet with tears of pain.

"Y/N! Y/N, wake up!" I heard a voice call out

"Wake up! You need to wake up!" Again, and this time, louder.

At that moment I woke up. Sweaty, with irregular breathing and a dry throat. I looked ahead and saw Dean and Sam looking at me. We were stopped on a dark road.

"Is everything okay?" Dean asks, meanwhile, Sam opens the car door and gets out, opening the back one and getting in, sitting next to me.

"Okay, sure." I answer nervously, trying to compose myself.

"It didn't seem okay while you were screaming," Sam says, handing me a bottle of water, which I gladly accept.

"It was just a dream, I'm fine." I try to convince them, but by their faces, it hadn't worked.

"If it was just a dream, I'm even afraid to know your nightmares," Dean says and starts driving again.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Sam whispers in my ear, and I try to hold back the tears, while I just nod my head in agreement.

"There's a motel a few minutes from here, we'll spend the night there," Dean says and continues down the road.

It doesn't take long until we arrive at the motel. It was a classic roadside motel, but it was enough.

Dean and Sam get a single room for the two of them, and one for me.

I didn't plan on sleeping that night, so when the boys went to their rooms, I grabbed some snacks from a vending machine and went to my room, turning on the TV to a channel that was showing a series, with the intention of distracting myself from the memories.

I manage not to think about my dreams for 2 or 3 hours, but at one point, sleep begins to set in, and little by little my eyes close, but I always realize that I am about to fall asleep, and I wake up with a jolt. I turn off the television and go to the bathroom.

I take off the clothes I was wearing and get in the shower. The hot water hits the tense muscles in my shoulders and relaxes them in a few seconds. I close my eyes and throw my head back, wetting my hair and face. I massage my scalp with the intention of relaxing, but I quickly tense up when I feel a sudden cold, despite the hot water.

I step out of the shower and dry my eyes with my hands, and when I look at the curtain, I can see the shadow of something behind it. Something very similar to the Being from my memories.

With my heart racing and my breathing irregular, I open the curtain in a quick movement, but relax when I find nothing on the other side.

I turn off the shower, still confused and scared by what happened before, and put on some warm pajamas.

I think about lying back down on the bed and watching the series again, but I look at the bedside table and see the spare key to my brothers' room that Sam gave me in case of an emergency.

Without thinking much, I grab the key and go to the next room, unlocking it slowly, not wanting to alarm the boys.

I open the door and close it behind me, when I turn around, I see Sam, still awake, sitting on the couch that was in the room with a book in his hand.

"Hi, did something happen?" He says quietly and puts the book aside, coming to me.

"I'm scared." My eyes fill with tears and I hug him. I feel his big arms holding me tightly, bringing me closer to his chest.

"It's okay, little one. I'm here." He kisses the top of my head as I sob against his soft shirt.

"Come, lie down with us." He pulls away and goes to the bed.

"Dean, go over there." He pokes Dean's shoulder, making him wake up half-dazed and ready to curse his brother, but stops when he sees me crying next to the bed.

Dean pulls away and I lay down next to him, Sam laying down next to me, making me be between the two of them.

"You're safe with us," Dean whispers, going back to sleep.

"You don't have to tell me what you're afraid of, but know that I'm here for you when you're ready to tell me," Sam whispers behind me.

"I'm having dreams. Actually, they're not dreams, they're memories from my childhood, before Dad adopted me. In these memories, a monster or whatever it was killed my father and mother, right in front of me."

"You don't have to be afraid. Dad told us about this story. He came when the monster was on top of your mother and killed it before it had a chance to hurt you. Sleep, and don't worry about your dreams, the monster is gone, it's dead, and your brothers are here to protect you from anything."

[deansapplepie]

Period .

Summary: The one time you were glad you had your period, and the one time you weren’t.

Warnings: young Daryl (just in the first part), mentions of pregnancy, period, blood, sexual themes, mentions of creampie, mentions of impregnating, little angsty in the end. Minors do not Interact, 18+.

A/N: it was supposed to be a small drabble, but it turned out longer than I imagined. 🤭 Period is something important in the story, but the main focus is really about pregnancy.

Also, there’s no smut just little thoughts of Daryl.

The Quarry, Atlanta

You were fucked you knew you were, but so was Daryl and that was the problem. You had been dating for only a few months before the outbreak and even though your relationship was new, you knew his temper pretty well being neighbors for many years.

Your period was late, it already was when the world ended, but just a few days, so you didn’t worry about it. Now, it had been almost a month and you were worried as fuck. You tried to fake normalcy, pretend there wasn’t anything wrong. But your constant lip biting and unquiet legs denounced to the hunter how nervous you were. “Spill it.” He said.

“What?” He took you by surprise, you were so into in your mind that you didn’t even know he had been observing for the last half hour.

“There’s somethin’ worrying ya. Just say it.” He didn’t take his eyes from you as he waited for you ti say something.

“My period. It’s late. I’m worried.” You threw averting his eyes.

In his mind a million of thoughts were running, but mainly 1. why did you have to feel so amazing wrapped around him that sometimes he couldn’t just control himself and just finish inside of you? 2. why did he still used no condoms? 3. he couldn’t be a father, he didn’t have this ability.

“Just that?” He asked nonchalantly pretending it didn’t affect him. “Want me to go to town and pick a pregnancy test?”

You looked at him amused. How could he be so calm when you were panicking? Part of you were glad he wasn’t fuming in rage like you imagined he would be, but the other part was frustrated with him acting like it was nothing. “Seriously?” You gave him an incredulous look. “Don’t need to. Let’s wait a little more.” You got up and left to the lake, frustrated, fuming and just needing to calm yourself down.

Days passed and nothing happened. Until the day Daryl woke up tired of not knowing if he would have to raise a child in this fucked up world or not. When you woke up he was already brewing something on the fire, Merle with him. “I’m going to town. Want something?” He asked.

“What are you going to do in town?” You didn’t understand, you had everything. Food and hygiene supplies, what else could you need?

“I’m gonna get the thing. We already waited too much.” He seemed nervous, finally one small demonstration of feelings.

“Are ya two gonna talk in codes now?” Merle complained feeling left out.

You ignored him and replied Daryl. “Ok. Just let me go the bathroom, gonna think if we need anything else.” You left in the direction of the RV, not everyone used it, but most of you. Especially the women and the kids, Daryl and Merle preferred to go into the woods as to not get the dirty looks everyone gave them, but you were different, you were polite and would smile sometimes. Also, you got along well with Dale and the women in the camp.

You distributed ‘good mornings’ along the way and when you got to the RV you encountered Dale, Ami and Andrea having breakfast. You greeted them and excused yourself to the bathroom, and there it was… your answer. No test needed. A pool of blood on your panties. You felt wet earlier, but the last weeks you felt it many times and it was always nothing, so you didn’t mind. You were relieved. The world was pure chaos and you couldn’t imagine raising a child in it. Yet, there was an uneasy feeling inside of you.

You went back to your tent and the small fire the brothers had done. “You don’t need to go.” It was as the only thing you said.

“Ugh?” He grunted confused.

“I’m on my period.” You said, and fuck if Merle was listening.

“Were ya talking in codes because ya thought you were pregnant?” Merle almost yelled. “And you were hiding it from me? The uncle?”

“Shut up Merle, nobody needs to know, and stop complaining about an inexistent baby.” You answered mood swinging immediately. There it was, you had seen the signals, you just didn’t want to read them.

Daryl stayed silent while you went inside the tent to take clean panties, pads or tampons to change. When you came out Daryl was the same way he was before, millions of thoughts inside his head.

“Are you going to say something or are you going to pretend there wasn’t anything going on just like when I told you my worries?” You snapped, the last days you had thought over and over again about his non reaction the day you told him, and that’s not that you wanted him to have fought or screamed at you, you didn’t, but you wanted him to share his worries with you and to be able to share yours with him.

“What do ya want me to say?” He asked, dryly. “Thank God? ‘Cause I don’t believe in one. Or do you want me to say I feel really sorry ‘cause we’re not putting a child in this fucked up world?” He had snapped. You were angry at him, but at least it was a reaction of some sort.

“You’re an asshole.” You threw at him and left, he thought about retorting you with a sassy answer, but he bit his tongue.

“Ya messed bad, lil bro… ya know nothing about women. How was ya able to catch a girl like her?” Merle couldn’t contain his mouth and spoke.

“Shut up, Merle! Mind your own business!” He replied, taking his things and living grumpily.

Later that day he returned with chocolate and painkillers, which he left on your side of the sleeping bed without saying anything.

Alexandria, Virginia

You were out in the woods, close to Alexandria. You had been hunting with Daryl, your husband. Yes, your husband. So many things have changed along the years, that some times you couldn’t believe how things were different. But one thing hadn’t change, you were still reckless about sex, not that you had options to prevent a pregnancy in the end of the world.

And that was the reason you were distracted while you hunted, also the reason you were not being silent like he taught you to be and were cracking every and all stick on the way. “Wha’s the problem, sweetheart?” He stopped and turned to you.

Distracted, you continued to walk and bumped into him. “Sorry.” You looked up at him and saw concern in his eyes.

“What’s troubling ya?” He asked his hands resting on your shoulders. “And don’t try to lie, I know ya.”

You sighed. “I’m late.” You’ve been late many times during the time you and Daryl have been together, but most of the times your worries would be taken away as soon as they started to build. But that time at the quarry and now, it had been a long time.

Now he already knew what you meant, and it didn’t worry him this much anymore. To be honest, he even thought about impregnating you during the last years. It all started when his Lil Ass Kicker was born, and then how he saw you taking care of her and interacting with kids. So… he considered having kids with you many times.

“Just that?” He threw the same question back at that day in the quarry. Anger started bubbling in you and then he just stroke you with his words. “Ya shouldn’t worry. If it happens, we’ll take responsibility and do our best. It’s our baby we’re talking about.”

“Daryl… aren’t you mad? Or worried?” You looked at him disarmed now that you realized he wasn’t going to be a dick.

“If ya’re expecting, I helped making this baby and I dun think it would be so terrible the idea of having a baby made of us.” Yeah, you had all changed a lot. You didn’t know one day you could desire him even more, but just the thought of him thinking it wouldn’t be bad to have babies with you… made you want to jump on him.

“Should we grab a pregnancy test with Denise or something?” You suggested grabbing one of his hands.

“Let’s wait a little more and I take them.” He started to walk and intertwined your fingers. “Now, let’s hunt dinner.”

Daryl had finally gone on a run to find some pregnancy tests, Denise unfortunately had none. When he arrived he hoped to see you in the kitchen with Carol, but his friend was alone. She saw his confused face and she knew he was looking for you. “She’s at the bedroom. She arrived and a little while after… she didn’t look well. I think you should see her.” Carol advised him. She knew there was something upsetting you and she was almost sure of what it was, but you had said nothing to her, so she decided it was better to not push.

“Thanks, ‘m gonna check on her.” He said before he left to your shared bedroom.

After he descended the stairs to your room in the basement, he found you on bed laying on your side. He kicked his shoes off before joining you in bed. “Hey babe”

“Hey” you replied and didn’t turn to look at him.

He laid on his side, spooning you and sneaking his arm around you. He rested his hand on your lower stomach, an habit he had developed recently. He’d do it when you got your period and felt cramps, but in the last days he had done it for another reason. “Can you take your hand from there?” You asked.

“Why? Don’t ya wanna me to touch ya?” He wanted to understand what was troubling your mind.

“There’s nothing there. Just my uterus. My stupid bleeding uterus.” Here it was. He wouldn’t deny he was a little upset, he had some hope on you being pregnant. He was even excited.

“Ok. Look at me.” He turned you so you’d be facing him. You had teary eyes and a small pout on your lips. “You wanted this baby, didn’t ya?”

“Is it this obvious?” Yes, it was. It was visible on your face.

“I wanted it too.” He confessed, his fingers running on your hair.

“I’ve been wanting for a long time already… since Jude was born and I saw her in your arms. When I have Jude in my arms or little Hershel, I wish I had a baby.” While you spoke, your eyes welled with tears and they started falling.

He gently wiped your tears, he could understand your feelings in his own way, because he felt them too. “Me too. When I see you with the kids, I wish we had one.” ‘And to put a baby inside of you’, completed in his mind. “Do ya want me to give you a baby?”

Your eyes sparkled at his words, and it wasn’t just because of the tears threatening to fall again. “Would you?” You looked in his eyes and he felt like you could see his soul. But, yes… you could. You could always see him, even when he couldn’t.

“As many as ya want.” He said and the tears you were holding just bursted from your eyes. “Stop crying, I didn’t say it so you’d cry. If you continue to cry, I’m not giving ya babies…”

“Don’t you dare Daryl Dixon! I’m crying because I’m happy, ok?” You cupped his face with your hands, making a pout appear on his face.

“Ok.” He spoke the best he could with your hands cupping his face and restraining his lips from moving. You kissed his lips and released his face.

He brought you closer and hugged you, your face hiding on his chest. He was happy. You weren’t feeling like shit anymore, you were feeling like the luckiest woman in the damn end of the world.

You were trying for babies as soon as possible. That was what he thought, a smile on his face while he held you in his arms.

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[nikkirando]

When I was your man...PT 3

Husband!Tyler Owens x Wife!Reader, Ex!Javi Rivera x Ex!Reader

Warning: language, Javi being Javi like in the last 2 stories, Reader(You) finally snapping at Javi, Tyler threatening Javi, Again unwanted touch (From Javi and Tyler), and mentions of sex (Javi again shocker),

Summary: A few more days have passed and Javi tries to get on your good side. He takes it a little too far talking about the future he and Reader once wanted and promised to give it to her. duh duh duh

@sarah-bear706318 for the mood bored!

A few more long days passed as Javi kept saying bullets through your body. His stare was so intense it could drill a hole through your body, making you very uncomfortable. You started to grab some bags out of Tyler's trunk. You back up into someone, and you turn around quickly and sigh slightly annoyed. "Javi..." you said as he smiled and leaned against the truck. "Just coming to see if you need help," he said.

Before you can answer, he grabs the bags from your hands. "Let's go?" he says as he gently pushes you to lead the way. You slowly do as Javi makes his failed attempts to talk to you, you don't respond to him. He finally gives up you stop in front of your door "You can drop them" you say "Why don't I come inside?" he says getting closer as you back up agenst the door. Javi hot breath near you mouth.

You gently push him away and grab the bags "I got it" you say opening the door and slamming it in his face. He stands there for a few moments before slowly walking away. You sighed in relief as you saw his shadow walk away from your hotel room. You sit on your bed wondering why Javi after the past week wanted you back I mean he broke up with us! But another part of you wanted to forgive him after all those years sure not divorce Tyler and give Javi another chance.

You lay down on your bed and sighed as you looked over at the TV that was playing the weather news. You rolled your eyes slightly and turned off the TV. The more you think the more tired you feel and before you know it you are out like a light.

The next morning you yawned and opened your hotel room door and as you slept out you heard a *CRUNCH* below your feet. You look down and move off the...flowers? You smile picked up the flowers and look for a note. There was no note which made you smile more thinking it was from Tyler. You set them in your hotel room as you walk to Tyler he tips his cowboy hat to you "Hey there honey how ya sleep?" he says as you hug him tightly "Alright but thank you for the flowers" As soon as you say that he tiles his head looking confused "What flowers?" he said which make you look at him and look at Javi who smiled at you that's when you connected the dots.

Before you could say anything he spoke up "Must've been a dream hon..but I'll buy you flowers just say the word" He kissed you and you kissed back slowly as he smirks at you "god I've been wanting you forever my beautiful wife~" he says cupping your ass which made you giggle "Maybe later tonight~" You whisper in his ear before pulling away and walking back to your room to throw away those flowers thst have Javi cooties on them.

The more the day continued the more weirder it got. First the flowers then random Starbucks coffee on your dresser, and then chocolate on your chair after you got up and left for just a second, then it was a cookie box at your front door, next to these stupid love letters you didn't bother to open. You sighed in frustration at these random gifts all you thrown away expect the coffee because who tf throws away free coffee?

The reason you threw them away is so you didn't have Javi's blood all over the front of Tyler's truck. Tyler walked into the room and looked at you "Hey sweetheart I and the group are gonna chase ya wanna come with?" against your best judgment "Nah'll be ok here" You smiled as he kissed you gently "Let me know if ya need anything just give me a call alright?" he says as you nod and you watch him walk out.

A few hours have passed and you walk out of your room and down the stairs to the vending machine. As you put a dollar in you heard a voice in your ear that sounded too familiar to your liking "Hey there Y/N how ya been?" Javi hot breath in your ear as you turned on your heel "What Javi..." You said annoyed. "You like the gifts?" he asked and before you could answer he continued "You know another gift I could give you? A family...the family you always talked about...with a white fence and a son and a daughter and a dog..." he said which made you tense up at the memories you didn't want back.

"Clearly Tyler can't give it to you...let me Y/N let me give you the family you always wanted..." he said leaning in slowly and closing his eyes as he went to kiss you. 'Fuck it' you thought to yourself everything you thought about forgiving Javi was out the window. His lips got closer to yours and before your brain could think your body already thought first *SLAP* your hand right across his face.

He stumbled back and hold his cheek as he stares at you and you stare at him shocked by your slap before your shock turned into anger "How fucking dare you, Javi Rivera!?" you yelled at him "Trying to kiss a married woman! And try to get in her pants after you dumped me! Remember you dumped me! And now that I'm finally happy again you want to ruin it! Right!?" You yelled which was making a scene as some people stopped what they were doing to look at you guys.

"The reason me and Tyler don't have kids is because of me! I'm choosing to wait to have kids! But you don't need to know that! In fact, you don't need to know anything! 5 years ago I didn't want to chase but look at me today! I'm a different woman now, Javi Rivera! Not some lost young girl you can control anymore!" you say glaring at him as he stammered his words. Before he could say anything you walk past him back to your hotel room which tears in your eyes.

You slam the door and sit on the bed as you start to sob and hug your knees to your chest. It felt like forever you stayed like that until your hotel room door opened and Tyler walked inside he was smiling until he saw you "Sweetheart what's wrong?" He asked walking to you and kneeling in front of you as you kept sobbing and hugging him while shaking your head. Tyler definitely knew something was wrong but didn't push any further because he didn't want you trying any harder all he knew was someone was definitely dying when you finally told him what was wrong.

PART THREE THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCHHHH AHHHHHHHH