#and i made them so quickly in this rush of adrenaline and pure love for him

[likesummerrainn]

AEW Dynamite | 04.05.23

[uniquexusposts]

I love you - L. Sargeant

Summary: Y/n when she finds out about the dismissal of Logan.

Y/n stepped out of the office building, the evening air brushing against her skin as she slipped her hand into her purse to pull out her phone. The screen flickered to life, exposing a photo that never failed to warm her heart—a snapshot of Logan, captured in a moment of pure, unguarded joy. He was laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners, staring straight at her through the camera with that infectious smile that made everything else in the world seem distant and insignificant. Her own smile crept across her lips, soft and instinctive.

With a small sigh of contentment, she placed her AirPods in her ears, the familiar opening chords of her favourite song easing her out of the moment and back into the present. The city around her was alive with its usual chaos—cars honking, people chattering, the distant roar of a plane overhead—but the music created a barrier, a comforting bubble that made the world feel a little less hectic, a little more bearable.

She put her phone back into her coat purse as she set off towards the tube station. The streets, though bustling with the typical rush-hour crowd, had become second nature to her; she moved through them with a kind of unconscious grace, weaving in and out of the throng with ease. The cobblestones beneath her feet were wet from a recent drizzle, reflecting the orange glow of the streetlights as dusk slowly folded into night.

Her thoughts began to drift, as they often did on these solitary walks, from the mundane details of the day’s work to the warmth waiting for her at home. The stark contrast between the bustling heart of the city, with its relentless pace and constant noise, and the quiet sanctuary they had carved out for themselves in their little corner of London, always brought her a sense of relief. It was the difference between holding her breath and finally exhaling, a sigh of contentment at the thought of their peaceful neighbourhood.

The tube station loomed ahead, its entrance a yawning mouth that swallowed the constant stream of commuters. Y/n descended the stairs, the music in her ears blending with the rhythmic clatter of trains and the murmur of voices. The train arrived with a gust of wind, the doors sliding open to reveal the usual mix of strangers packed inside. She squeezed in, finding a spot to stand near the door, one hand gripping the pole for balance as the train jolted forward. Her thoughts drifted back to Logan, to the look in his eyes when he’d kissed her goodbye that morning—a look that had seemed almost distant, like something was weighing on him, something he hadn’t quite found the words to share. 

This F1 season had been extremely difficult for Logan. The pressure, the endless travel, the scrutiny from fans and media alike—it was all beginning to take its toll on him, and she could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way his shoulders slumped when he thought no one was looking. He had always been passionate about racing, had always thrived on the adrenaline and the challenge, but this season was different. With each race, it seemed like the weight of it all was pushing him closer to the edge.

She had seen him at his best—confident, focused, driven—but lately, those moments had been few and far between. Instead, there was a weariness in his eyes, a sense of doubt that had crept in and taken root. She had tried to be there for him, to support him in every way she could, but she knew that some battles had to be fought alone. Still, it pained her to see him struggle, to see the sport he loved so much slowly drain the life out of him.

Her stop came quicker than expected. She quickly exited the tube and the station and made a quick stop at a local store, to pick up a parcel. When at the shop, her eyes spotted Kinder Bueno. Without hesitation, she bought one. Kinder Bueno was a thing in Logan and Y/n’s life. They always shared one. And Y/n felt like sharing a Kinder Bueno. The parcel safely tucked under her arm and the Kinder Bueno in her purse, she left the shop and began the walk home. The streets were quiet, the orange glow of the streetlights casting long shadows that danced across the pavement. She found herself appreciating the stillness, the way the city seemed to pause here, allowing her a moment of peace before she reached their flat.

The front door creaked slightly as she pushed it open, stepping into the dark hallway. The hallway was always dimly lit when someone was home, so it made her wonder if Logan was home. She closed the door behind her, took off her shoes and walked to the living area. 

“Hey,” she said slightly surprised when she saw Logan sitting in one of the chairs of the dining table. He was facing the windows, looking outside. Y/n put her purse, bag and parcel on the table and took out her AirPods. She got no answer from her boyfriend. 

There was something off in the way he sat, a stiffness in his posture that sent a ripple of unease through her. 

“Hey,” she said again, trying to get in contact with Logan. 

He looked over his shoulder, surprised to see Y/n standing at the other side of the table. “Hey,” he murmured, forcing a smile that barely touched his lips and never reached his eyes.

The smile was wrong—flat, almost hollow. It lacked the warmth she was used to, the easy way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he saw her, as if just her presence was enough to make everything right in the world. But tonight, that spark was missing, replaced by something cold and distant.

What a welcome after a week apart from each other, Y/n thought, a pang of sadness settling in her chest. She had been looking forward to this moment all day, to seeing him, to feeling his arms around her after what felt like an eternity of being apart. But now, standing there with him just a few feet away, she felt a chasm between them that hadn’t been there before.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked and stepped towards him. “What is wrong?” 

For a moment, he said nothing, his gaze dropping to the floor as if the weight of the world was pulling him down. Then, slowly, he shook his head, a tremor running through him. He took a deep breath that seemed to shudder through his entire body, he looked back at her, his expression crumbling into one of raw vulnerability.

“I’m gone,” he blurted out, the words tumbling from his lips in a single, desperate breath. His voice cracked, the bravado he would tried to maintain splintering into pieces as the reality of his situation overwhelmed him. And just like that, he burst into tears, the sobs tearing through him with a force that startled them both. His body shook with the intensity of it, the weight of all he had been holding back crashing down on him at once. He tried to speak, to say something, anything that could make sense of what he was feeling, but the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was cry, releasing the anguish that had been building inside him for far too long.

He broke. 

“Fuck,” was Y/n’s first reaction. She stepped to him, closing the distance between them in an instant. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t think twice—she just wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, trying to offer him some semblance of comfort, of safety. He buried his face in her shoulder, his tears soaking through her shirt as he clung to her, as if she were the only thing keeping him from falling apart completely.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling with her own emotions as she stroked his back, her hand moving in slow, soothing circles. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here. I’m right here.”

But she knew that right now, those words might feel empty to him. Nothing she said could change what he was going through, could make the pain disappear. All she could do was be there, hold him, and let him know that he wasn’t alone in this, no matter how lost he felt.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Y/n whispered. 

It broke her heart to see him like this. Racing was his everything. It was the fire that fuelled him, the passion that had driven him for as long as she had known him. It was more than just a job—it was his identity, his purpose. And now, that part of him had been ripped away so brutally, that he was left floundering in its absence, lost in a darkness that seemed impenetrable.

She had never seen him like this before. Even in the worst of times, he had always managed to find some glimmer of hope, some reason to keep pushing forward. But now, that strength, that resilience, seemed to have deserted him, leaving only the raw, unfiltered agony of his loss.

He couldn’t stop crying, the sobs tearing through him with a force that made her heart ache. It was as if every tear carried with it a piece of his shattered dream, a fragment of the life he had built around his love for racing. She held him tighter, her own tears falling silently as she pressed her lips to his temple, trying to convey through touch what words could not. She ignored the tension in her muscles as she sat in an uncomfortable way. It didn’t matter now. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered again, her voice barely audible over the sound of his weeping. She wished she could take his pain away, bear the burden for him, if only for a moment. But all she could do was be there, anchoring him in the storm that raged within him, holding him as he cried out the grief that had taken root in his soul.

Minutes passed, though they felt like hours, and slowly, painfully, his sobs began to subside, his body gradually relaxing in her arms. But the tears didn’t stop, and she knew that this was just the beginning—that the road ahead would be long and difficult, filled with moments like this one where the weight of his loss would threaten to crush him.

Logan shifted slightly, his head moving away from her shoulder, creating a small distance between them. His eyes, red and swollen, searched hers, a silent plea lingering in the depths of his gaze. As their eyes met, the vulnerability there was almost unbearable to witness. He blinked, and a few quiet tears slipped free, tracing slow paths down his cheeks. The sight of them, so small yet so heavy with meaning, sent a fresh wave of sorrow through Y/n’s chest.

Without thinking, she raised her hand and gently ran her fingers through his hair, the familiar motion meant to soothe, to comfort. Logan closed his eyes at the touch, leaning into it ever so slightly, as if that simple act could shield him from the harsh reality they were facing.

For a moment, they just sat there, the world outside their little bubble distant and irrelevant. The warmth of her hand in his hair, the soft rise and fall of their breaths, the silent exchange of emotions that words could never quite capture—it all felt like a fragile lifeline, something to hold onto as the storm continued to rage around them.

When Logan finally opened his eyes again, the tears still lingered, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of gratitude, of understanding. It was as if, in that small gesture, Y/n had reminded him that he wasn’t alone in this, that no matter how lost he felt, she would be there, steadfast and unwavering, ready to catch him whenever he stumbled.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he whispered, his voice rough and broken, each word carrying the weight of his fear, his uncertainty.

“That’s okay,” she whispered. “You will figure it out.”

Logan’s gaze softened, and though the sadness in his eyes didn’t disappear, it seemed just a little less overwhelming, as if the burden had lightened, if only by a fraction. He nodded slowly, as if trying to absorb the truth of her words, to let them sink in deep enough to hold onto when the darkness returned.

Y/n leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, letting her lips linger there for a moment, a silent promise that she would be his anchor, his strength, whatever he needed her to be.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice tender, carrying the weight of everything she felt for him, everything she couldn’t put into words.

Logan’s eyes became blurry again, the tears welling up as the depth of her love, her unwavering support, threatened to overwhelm him. He could feel her lips press softly against his cheekbone, a gentle reminder of her presence, of her unwavering commitment to stand by him no matter how dark the days ahead might be.

He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely, but this time there was something different in them—something less rooted in despair and more in the profound sense of being loved, of not having to carry this burden alone. The sensation of her lips against his skin, her breath warm and steady, was an anchor in the storm, grounding him in the here and now, pulling him back from the abyss.

“I love you too,” he managed to whisper, his voice thick with emotion, his heart aching with both the pain of his loss and the overwhelming gratitude he felt for her. He turned his head slightly, just enough to press his own lips to her temple, a quiet gesture of thanks, of love, of everything he couldn’t find the words to express.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos@crashingwavesofeuphoria@maryvibess @chocolatefartstrawberry @snzleclerc @ironmaiden1313@blodwyn4u

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER THREE : Second visit of the Death

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Two is here.

Pairing : Sub-Zero | Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Adapting to life within the Lin Kuei clan, you notice significant differences between their ways and those of your own clan. The tension around Bi-Han’s demeanor persists, and you feel at a loss about how to approach him. Despite the challenges, you’re surprised by the Lin Kuei’s compassionate side. However, an ordinary tea takes an unexpected dark turn, and the consequences become dire.

Author’s Note : I use both Sektor’s and Cyrax’s appearances from the MK9 game. Frost is also here. All of them are human in this story.

Warning : Details about violence & poisoning

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Many years ago...

On a cold autumn night, when the last yellow leaves on the trees were falling to the ground and the scent of snow wafted through the air, you came face to face with death for the first time.

You were a little girl, just about to turn six. Though your imagination was vast, your feet were always firmly planted on the ground. As the only daughter of the clan’s grandmaster, you knew a different life awaited you compared to other children, and you had a responsibility to fulfill those expectations. It was your duty.

At the same time, you also understood that your father had never loved you like your other siblings. Yet, you didn’t realize there was a deeper hatred underneath, one that could turn your life upside down from that night on.

Could a father harbor such a significant grudge against his own child? It appeared that your father was nurturing something sinister.

Just before the assassin came to your room, although you didn't hear footsteps, your ability to control shadows made you aware of a visitor outside the door. It immediately put you on high alert, pulling you out of the sweet embrace of sleep.

You knew that no one would approach your room secretly and quietly like this at this time of night. One of your small hands gripped the hunting knife you always kept under the pillow.

Even though your younger brother had started basic martial training with the others, your father excluded you, insisting you didn't need it. Instead, you were taught etiquette, manual skills, and other noble womanly pursuits.

So, you didn’t know how to defend yourself, but you observed others training from afar. There was also a knife your mother had given you, tightly held between your fingers. She had always warned you never to let the knife stray far, and for the first time, you felt fortunate that you kept that promise.

A year ago, you were given a single room as you were deemed old enough and had to leave your parents. For the first time, your room seemed intimidating and vast to your eyes.

Finally, a decrepit human figure emerged from the shadows, and you held your breath. Your vision blurred with tears from panic, and your heart pounded with adrenaline, causing your lower jaw to tremble under the influence of the fear you felt. You had never experienced such fear in your short life – a pure fear that made your whole body tremble and made you want to sob.

Everything erupted in an instant. Things happened so fast that you didn't even get a chance to understand.

When the assassin deftly cut your exposed throat with a swift movement, your entire world came to a halt. Blood splattered around your chin like a red dye. The pain was so intense that you choked on the blood rushing to your mouth, and tears, previously restrained, quickly overflowed from your eyes.

The air became thick with the metallic scent of blood, and the room seemed to spin in a disorienting dance of shadows and crimson. Your fingers, trembling, clutched at the bedsheets, stained with the evidence of your struggle. The moonlight cast eerie reflections on the walls, mirroring the fading flicker of your consciousness.

Coughing and attempting to breathe, you struggled as your vision blurred. The pain was sharp, and your vision quickly darkened, fading into nothingness. It felt like someone was dimming the light of a lamp, and you believed the end had come. To die in your own bed, at the hands of an assassin—it was too cruel an end.

Amidst your closing eyes, you vaguely heard your mother's screams. Everything disappeared into a black, deep void, and the pain vanished, merging into the darkness as if it had never existed.

When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself staring at the familiar ceiling of your room. Standing still for a few minutes, you couldn't comprehend what was happening. Was the entire ordeal a horrific nightmare? When you attempted to straighten up in confusion, moving your neck even slightly brought such a sharp pain that tears instantly filled your eyes.

Frozen in fear of the pain returning, the sliding door of the room opened, and your mother and the clan doctor entered, expressing concern from every angle.

"(y/n)! Thank God you're awake!"

As your mother rushed inside and opened her arms, carefully embracing you, tears began to flow. Silent sobs shook your small frame as she stroked your hair and tried to comfort you with her sweet words. Hugging your mother more tightly, you sought refuge, as if trying to hide from the entire world in her embrace.

Since birth, the only place you felt safe was in your mother's arms. Only there could you express yourself authentically, unreservedly showing your feelings. Your mother was the only person in the entire clan who accepted you completely.

"Don't cry, my beautiful girl, it's all over now. Your father took care of the assassin, nothing like this will happen again. Don't worry at all."

After your mother placed a loving kiss on the top of your head, she stepped back and wiped the tears from your eyes. When you tried to speak, she silenced you by placing a gentle finger on your lips.

‘’No, you are forbidden to speak until your throat heals,” your mother declared.

Following her words, the doctor carefully explained what you should and shouldn’t do, framing it in a way that you could understand. Listening with fearful eyes, every swallow was a painful reminder of the wound in your throat. Could you speak again after such an injury? The possibility felt shrouded in uncertainty.

According to the doctor, you would start to regain the ability to speak in five or six months, but the pain persisted, as sharp as if the knife that cut your throat had never left. It was enough to extinguish hope, as fragile as a candle flame.

And that was exactly what happened.

As the days transformed slowly into weeks and the weeks into months, you learned to live with the pain—or perhaps "adapt" would be a more accurate term. Coming from a warrior clan where your father held the position of the grandmaster, you never wanted to overshadow his glory with your weakness.

Despite your young age and stature, you always tried your best. When the dosage of painkillers decreased over time and the pain intensified, that's when you began using your power for the first time.

The shadows became your allies—a refuge for the weakness, pain, tears, and the loneliness of not being around anyone except your mother. You learned to conceal all these emotions in the shadows.

For a long time, you were afraid to sleep alone in your room. However, explaining the situation to your father seemed more frightening, so you began hiding in the shadows created by moonlight in your room. You learned to console yourself from nightmares in which you woke up sobbing.

Feeling safe in the dark world felt strange at first. You had never liked the dark—your brothers would sometimes use shadows to scare you or tell scary stories, intensifying your fear. But this time, darkness began to feel like a friend rather than an arch-enemy.

When it all became too overwhelming, the darkness became your new cocoon where you felt safe. This bond with your power was established as the only way you could sleep at night. You didn't know exactly how to use it yet, or what it was capable of, but you became skilled at hiding yourself.

This newfound ability allowed you to rebuild the confidence you had lost over time. You still harbored fear of your father, your brothers, and anyone else bigger and taller than you, as well as sudden noises and movements. However, it brought comfort to know you had a place to hide from everyone.

A year later, a scar adorned your throat, a reminder of that fateful moment, but speaking remained an act you were afraid to perform. On the other hand, as promised by your mother, there was no further attempt on your life, and your father decided that you should train with your brothers.

Then, one morning, when you woke up late due to your nightmares, you discovered the truth. . Transporting through the shadows to move silently, you stumbled upon your instructors whispering quietly among themselves as they headed to the training ground.

It was none other than your own father who had attempted to kill you.

Today...

Thanks to Bi-Han's guidance, you easily found the kitchen.

You had been hungry for so long that nausea had set in, prompting you to seek out the kitchen to put an end to it. On this pretext, you also wanted to take the opportunity to explore comfortably while no one had started the day yet.

During your first night in your room, stress had gripped your body, preventing sleep. At some point, even though you couldn't decipher how it happened, your eyes closed. However, in that brief moment of sleep, you found no relief. Stress, anxiety, and all the negative factors from your mission led you straight to a memory you could never erase but tried to bury deep down.

You hadn't revisited the memories of your assassination for a long time, and you even thought you were getting past it. With no apparent reason to fear for your life – being successful in martial arts and trained to turn every disadvantage to your advantage – you believed you had control over your vulnerabilities. Yet, it seemed that under stress, your subconscious was still weak, dragging you back to times when you were incapable of self-protection.

Taking a deep breath, you attempted to push the memories out of your mind. Upon finding the kitchen, you immersed yourself in breakfast preparation, only to be politely directed to the dining room by attendants responsible for the clan’s daily affairs.

As you looked at the chairs at the long table, hesitation crept in about where to sit. Bi-Han, as the grandmaster, should be seated at the head, and it would make sense for you to sit beside him as his wife. However, due to the tension between you, Bi-Han's presence felt dominating, even suffocating.

Moreover, you didn't want to risk sitting close to him after the insult he hurled about the bedroom issue the previous night. This time, you didn't want to be exposed in public simply because you sat next to him. Your pride had been wounded by his arrogant words and contempt for you from the very first day.

Therefore, you decided to secure yourself by opting to sit in one of the chairs in the middle. It wasn't long after you took your seat that Kuai Liang and Tomas, whom you recalled were Bi-Han's brothers, entered with another dark-skinned man. You remembered seeing him at the wedding ceremony but had no idea about his name.

All three of them seemed slightly surprised to see you but didn't hesitate to offer a small greeting with nods. You reciprocated with the same, along with a friendly smile and voice.

"Good morning."

Tomas, with his unusual gray hair that made his name easy to remember, was the first to respond to you.

"Good morning. I hope your first night here was comfortable."

When Kuai Liang jabbed Tomas hard with his elbow upon his words, Tomas realized the implication and raised his hands as if to say, ‘I am innocent,’ in a panic that contradicted the composure of a ninja. His cheeks turned slightly pink, and his grayish light blue eyes widened with embarrassment.

"That's not what I meant! Please forgive my rudeness," Tomas hastily clarified.

The sincerity of his reaction made an unexpected soft giggle escape your lips.

‘’That’s okay.’’

‘‘I know well what it means to get used to a foreign place. I just-‘’

“I think she understood what you meant, Tomas,” the dark-skinned man interjected. Seating himself opposite you, on the cross side, he continued, “My name is Sam, but I prefer you to say Cyrax.”

‘’Pleased to meet you,’’ you greeted politely, your gaze wandering over the three of them. ‘‘You know my name, but we haven't had the opportunity to meet formally. My name is (y/n). I will be in your care from now on.’’

‘’Glad to meet you,’’ Kuai Liang said. Sitting next to Cyrax, Tomas took the chair beside you. The seating arrangements caught your attention – Kuai Liang sat right next to the head chair, while Tomas left it empty instead of taking the same position and settled in next to you. You couldn't decipher if someone else was supposed to sit in the third seat instead of Tomas.

‘’You are my brother's wife; it would not be right for me to sit there anymore,’’ Tomas whispered, audible only to you. Your hands, resting on your lap, clenched into fists. Though sliding to one side was a simple action, you didn't want to do it, and you had good reasons. Fortunately, no one commented on this issue.

‘’I can imagine it's not easy, but this is your home now. We don't have to inherit the hostility of our ancestors. This marriage has given us an opportunity to prove this.’’

Kuai Liang looked at you with a sympathetic smile, showing that he noticed the tension. His face resembled Bi-Han's, but not entirely. Kuai Liang's expression had a warmth that could be described as calm and friendly. His dark brown eyes were sharp like Bi-Han's, yet they also held a gentle modesty. The impression at first glance was that he was not an arrogant person.

‘‘You are now a part of the Lin Kuei clan, so please feel comfortable and safe. No one can hurt you here. Our word is an oath.’’

His words calmed the chaos within you a little, but they weren't enough to dispel it entirely. Trusting was a difficult act for you, having learned through an extremely painful experience not to lean on your family. Therefore, you could only thank Kuai Liang for his words.

As breakfast was served, the atmosphere was cozy, the food surprisingly good. Even though you just met these men, there was a comfort in their company. They included you in their conversation, making you feel like you’ve always been part of their group. No one questioned or spoke harshly to you.

But it’s crucial to remember—they’re your enemies. Despite what Kuai Liang said, the real reason behind this marriage was to eliminate them. They’re seemed friendly, which shocked you. After the coldness you experienced from Bi-Han, this warm welcome was unexpected. It left you feeling a bit bewildered, struggling to believe in their friendliness. The breakfast, the conversations, all felt a bit surreal, and you couldn’t shake off the surprise, unsure of their true intentions.

As you were about to take a small sip of your steaming green tea, you caught Tomas's curious gaze watching you. According to a ninja, Tomas could betray himself easily with his expressions.

“Is there something on my face?’’ you asked. Tomas cleared his throat and averted his gaze from you.

‘’It just feels strange to see someone new at this table after so many years.’’

‘’May I hope that it is a good oddity?’’

‘’Yes, yes, of course.’’

‘’I think the part that makes it strange is that it is connected with your brother. Am I wrong?’’ you asked in a polite voice.

‘’We knew that our grandmaster was getting married soon; this was a topic that had been on the table for a long time. It surprised us all that it was with the Tengu clan,” Cyrax mentioned, crossing his muscular arms on his chest. “Obviously, we didn’t expect him to accept.”

“But this was definitely instrumental in something good,” Kuai Liang remarked. He should have been the mediator among them. You had only been with them for half an hour, but it was enough for you to understand that the man had a rather optimistic outlook. “My brother is not an easy person; he is deeply attached to his habits and clan. But I believe that time can change everything. Your marriage will be a new beginning for all of us, I feel that way.”

Your lips curled in a forced smile. Yes, there was no doubt that it would be a new beginning, but it would be instrumental in a much different cause than what Kuai Liang hoped. Grasping the porcelain cup with both hands, you looked at your image reflected in the tea.

Your eyes were determined, yet they also looked so hopeless. You had deep doubts and concerns about this task, unsure if you were strong enough to cope with it all alone. All these unknowns suffocated you, strengthening the vortex of chaos inside you.

While taking another sip of your tea, the sliding doors opened, and Bi-Han and another unknown person entered, someone you only saw out of the corner of your eye during the ceremony.

Bi-Han's eyes found you directly, and upon noticing the chair you had chosen, his brows furrowed noticeably. The atmosphere of the room instantly became heavy; there was nothing left of the cozy atmosphere just moments ago. The cold breeze emanating from Bi-Han caused you to shiver slightly despite the thick clothes you were wearing.

You were sure that he did this on purpose; it would be ridiculous to think that someone with the title of grandmaster couldn't control his powers. If he was trying to intimidate you, it was clear that he failed. However, you weren't going to take your chances either. Even if his observation of your powerlessness annoyed you, you were set on turning this situation to your advantage for the time being.

‘’You're late today.’’

‘’I was making an assessment with Sektor about the training of our newly arrived initiates,’’ said Bi-Han, responding to Kuai Liang. "They’re determined, and I am sure they will understand the order here in a short time and behave accordingly.’’

He didn't take his eyes off you when he said that. Implicitly, you understood that these words were directed at you. You continued to sip your tea quietly, ignoring his presence, as if you had never heard what he was saying.

‘’I don't think we are likely to encounter a problem as long as they are properly directed,’’ Sektor added. He, too, had sat next to Tomas, facing Cyrax. You could read on their faces that everyone was quietly questioning the idleness of the chair next to you.

‘‘How did you find the breakfast?’’

Everyone's attention turned when Bi-Han suddenly changed the subject and directed his question directly to you in a cold voice. Although you were suddenly uncomfortable with the attention being turned on you, you didn't show it. You lifted your chin slightly and looked directly into Bi-Han's eyes, who was watching you.

‘’Everything was quite delicious and carefully prepared; I can't find a word to say,’’ you continued with a kind smile and a sweet voice. "Of course, I wish my tea could stay a little warmer.’’ You said. Because of the cold breeze emitted by Bi-Han, everything that was steaming, especially the tea, lost its temperature in minutes.

Bi-Han's eyebrows furrowed a little more against your words. Now an obvious line had formed in the middle of his two eyebrows.

‘’Maybe you're not doing the right thing to keep warm.’’

"Forgive me for my words, but it is very difficult to understand what is right and what is not under these circumstances.’’

‘’Are they still talking about tea?’’ When Tomas asked Sektor his question in a whispering voice, Kuai Liang covered his face with one hand and sighed deeply.

Bi-Han's gaze was sharp enough to cut someone in half, and even though the danger signals he emitted made your entire body tremble, you maintained your posture. If Bi-Han expected respect for his boundaries, he needed to acknowledge that mutual respect was essential, understanding that you wouldn’t be compelled to obey as others in the clan did.

"Leave me alone with (y/n).’’

At his command, they got up without a word, and you caught Tomas's worried gaze as he quietly left the room. His expression made you a little nervous, but you also had no choice but to confront Bi-Han.

‘’What do you think you're doing?’’ he snarled. You maintained your innocent expression and calmness. You could tell from his demeanor that your attitude annoys him.

‘“I am drinking my tea,” you replied, lifting the cup delicately.

“Don’t play the fool with me. Do you think you can make a mockery of me in front of my clan?” Bi-Han’s voice dripped with irritation.

‘’No, of course not. I was just answering your questions.’’

Bi-Han's gaze darkened even more. While his jaw contracted angrily, the cold air he emitted started to cover the table with a thin layer of ice.

‘’When you are with the others, you will act like my wife, obey me, and keep quiet.’’

“Then I advise you not to ask me questions that you don’t want to hear answered, Grandmaster. Because I will not hesitate to answer you, do not doubt about that.’’

‘‘I'm warning you for the last time, (y/n). Do not try to confront me; the continuity of this alliance depends entirely on you. You better keep that in mind.’’

‘’I have no such intention.’’ Gripping the cup harder, you tried not to let go of your control and maintain your calm. ‘‘But remember that as long as your hostile attitude towards me continues, you will be reciprocated in the same way. If you want me to act like your wife in front of others, I have the right to be respected by you in the same way.’’

Bi-Han remained silent. As the chill in the room gradually dissipated, warmth returned, and you, too, breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the tension ease.

“From now on, you will sit on the chair next to me,” he declared in an authoritative tone that brooked no objections. “Our rooms are separate, but aside from that, you will stand in the position and place where you should stand as a wife.”

‘’All right. Do you have another desire?’’

"Finish your breakfast; Sektor will introduce you to the surroundings so that you don't get lost again.’’

‘‘That's very thoughtful of you, thank you.’’

Bi-Han's expression seemed to break for a moment, as if he was enjoying your answer; his lips curled with a ghostly smile. He leaned back without taking his gaze away from you.

‘‘How do you like your room?’’

‘’Good.’’ You said it honestly. ‘’It is spacious and quite comfortable.’’

‘‘Then why did you have a nightmare?’’

‘’Wouldn't it be more strange if I didn't?’’ Leaving your cup on the table, you also sat back in the same way and crossed your arms on your chest. ‘‘My husband not only dragged me out of the room like a little child, he insulted me and closed the door in my face.’’

‘‘I told you not to call me that.’’ Bi-Han warned.

An eyebrow raised defiantly at him.

‘‘I'm just stating the truth; it didn't happen any differently from what I said last night.’’

‘‘I'm not the cause of your nightmare." Bi-Han's confident tone of voice caused you to be both surprised and angry. While he didn't want to be involved in his own business, his refusal to show the same sensitivity to you to the second time was getting on your nerves now.

‘’You're afraid.’’ Said Bi-Han. You answered him back instantly.

‘’I'm not afraid of you.’’

The edge of Bi-Han's lip formed into a faint smile.

‘’I didn't say you were afraid of me. You're a brave woman; I can't take credit for that.’’

Bi-Han slowly got up from where he was sitting, sat down on the chair next to you in one fluid move, and grabbed one of the legs of the chair you were sitting on, pulling it towards him so that you could stand in a way to see him.

Your body automatically tensed up against Bi-Han being so close all of a sudden. The cool air emanating from the cryomancer was not menacing this time; you could clearly smell its clean smell on the snow outside, and the gaze locked on it made you feel like you were once again nose to nose with a snow leopard.

So that's how the prey felt when the predator made eye contact with its prey. Aggressive and cornered... It was terrible to be the focus of staring eyes to catch the slightest vulnerability; if you didn't have the confidence and pride in your abilities, you would have already got up from the chair or pointed one of the knives at Bi-Han on the table.

‘’What scares you (y/n)?’’

Bi-Han's big hands, grasping the arms of the chair which you were sitting on, further triggered the feeling of being cornered.

‘’Am I under interrogation?’’ You asked, although your voice sounded calm, the underlying tense timbre was reflected in your voice.

‘��It depends on how you want to evaluate this situation.’’

‘’It makes me feel quite interrogative. I thought you could ask your questions effectively without the need for them. I think I should add this behavior to the list, besides being rude.’’

‘’You think I’m rude?’’

‘He couldn't really have asked that.’ You thought. A grunt, uncharacteristic of a lady, escaped your lips.

‘’I can't say you're a very kind person. Look, Grandmaster, we all have our own demons. The fact that I come from a noble family does not change this fact. I'm not going to bother changing your thoughts about me, but I'm asking you, you can get the answers to your questions without being rude to me. Showing a little humanity won't take anything away from you.’’

Bi-Han's hands were covered with blue ice that momentarily turned white, freezing the arms of the chair he held. Recovering at an impressive speed, he retreated, regaining control over his powers. As he looked at you, a thin wisp of smoke rose from his lips, and he lowered his voice to a timbre audible only to you, as if he didn't want anyone else to hear.

"You're hard-headed."

"I have to be." You replied in the same quiet tone, causing Bi-Han to frown.

"Finish your breakfast," he said after a while. "Sektor is waiting for you."

***

In the few days spent in the Lin Kuei clan, you gradually acclimated to the surroundings and order. However, differences between their ways and those of your own clan began to stand out.

One notable distinction was the training of female assassins. While they were fewer in number compared to men, it intrigued you to see them actively participating. In your clan, women were confined to domestic roles, regarded solely for lineage continuation. They were kept behind closed doors, learning little beyond simple crafts.

Here, the situation differed. Female assassins received the same martial arts training as their male counterparts. One, in particular, caught your attention—Frost. With striking white hair and pale skin, she stood out. Possessing cryomancer powers like Bi-Han, she didn't seem to like you but maintained a respectful nod when passing by, acknowledging your status as the grandmaster's wife.

Another point of interest was the tight security within the Lin Kuei clan. Despite your discreet observations, there were no visible vulnerabilities. Watchtowers, constantly patrolling ninjas, high stone walls, and warriors trained under Bi-Han's supervision made it a formidable fortress.

Solidarity among the clan brothers was unwavering, leaving no room for discord. Conversations ceased when you approached, and you were consistently kept out of their discussions. Despite efforts to keep it secret, the fact that you shared separate rooms with Bi-Han became known. Although it bothered you, you managed to cope with it for a while.

This isolation felt unlike anything you'd experienced before. Even in your own clan, while the atmosphere wasn't vastly different, at least there was a familiar layout and recognizable faces.

Every night, your old memories resurfaced, and sleep became increasingly elusive. The weight of the mission seemed heavier than anticipated, causing nightmares to haunt you regularly.

"(Y/n)? Are you okay?"

Tomas's voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you looked up to see him from where you were sitting.

‘’Oh, Tomas. I didn't hear you coming. Yes, I'm fine; I'm just lost in thought. Would you like to join me a little bit?’’

As you gestured to the empty cushion next to you, Tomas joined you with a small smile.

‘’I think I have time enough for a little company.’’

‘’That's great. How are the trainings going? I heard that some of the new members are under your responsibility.’’

"It's good, they're catching on quickly, but they still have a long way to go.’’

‘’I've had the opportunity to observe your training from time to time; you seem like a pretty good teacher. I'm sure they'll get the hang of it soon.’’

In response to your friendly compliment, Tomas's eyes sparkled with happiness, and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Among the brothers, Tomas was the easiest to decipher; you felt comfortable around him. Maybe it was because he was younger and more naive compared to others; there was a part of him that genuinely listened to what you were saying rather than analyzing you. That made it easier for you to get along with him.

‘’Thank you; it made me happy to hear all this. Have you gotten used to it here? I hope Bi-Han isn't causing you too much difficulty.’’

‘’I guess I'm getting used to it’.’ You said it in a low voice. After the conversation in the dining room a few days ago, Bi-Han's stern attitude hadn't changed, but you could notice that he was paying attention to the way he spoke a little. On the other hand, his gaze was still on you, analyzing you, his attitude was distant and cold. There has been no change in this regard.

When things were like this, you didn't know how to bound him to yourself; as your brother advised, it was the same as asking for the impossible.

‘‘I am glad to hear that. It seems difficult at first, but time somehow allows you to get used to it.’’

‘‘Tomas, I don't want you to misunderstand me, and please forgive me if I'm out of line. I heard something, you-‘’

Tomas stated, his typically expressive face now unreadable, sending a wave of unease through you.

“I’m sorry, I crossed the line,” you quickly apologized, sensing the sensitivity of the topic.

‘’No, no, no." Tomas shook his head from side to side and gave you a little smile that suppressed a lot of pain. ‘‘This incident happened many years ago. It's true that I'm not related to them by blood, but despite that, I wasn't raised any different from Bi-Han and Kuai Liang. Their family became my family too, they were always warm and understanding towards me. Time has allowed me to get used to both them and here. Of course, it wasn't as easy as I said.’’

‘’Considering where I come from, I don't know how good or convincing it will be for you to hear this from me, but I'm sorry for your loss.’’ You said with a bitter smile.

"Thank you, and you must stop thinking that way. You are not our enemy (y/n). Also, I always find it more correct to judge the person alone.’’

Your eyebrows are slightly furrowed as you try to understand what he is saying. As you pulled your knees to yourself, you gave Tomas a curious look.

‘‘How so?’’

‘’We can’t judge everyone the same way. Yes, it is true that you are part of the Tengu Clan, but you are a single individual. You have your own truths, wrongs, beliefs, and desires. At some point, you’re doing what your clan orders you to do, but that doesn’t mean you think the same as them. People are complex, (y/n). Life shapes us differently, and our experiences carve unique paths. Your actions might be guided by duty, but your thoughts and feelings are your own. That’s why I believe that everyone should be evaluated alone. This is the fair one for me.”

Tomas' words struck a chord in your heart that you never anticipated, a deep impact that sent unexpected ripples through your emotions. In an instant, tears welled up in your eyes, tracing a delicate path down your cheeks, catching you off guard. A surprised yet heartfelt smile played on your lips as the weight of Tomas's understanding resonated deeply within you.

Tomas, on the other hand, tried to calm you down, not knowing what to do with a horrified expression.

‘‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry.’’

’’No," another wet chuckle spilled from your lips. ‘’Your words touched me, that's all. I'm fine, honestly, I wasn't expecting to cry either.’’

You've never seen such an approach in your clan, and the olive branch Tomas extended made you feel good, as well as unfamiliar. You wanted to be angry with yourself for being so easily impressed, but you couldn't, your cheeks were flushed with shame that you were so hungry for a few kind words. You wiped the tears from your cheeks while your heart ached with a heat that you couldn't help.

Was it really as easy as Tomas said?

At that time, a woman came to you with a tea tray in her hand, and the moment she realized that you werecrying, she hurriedly left what she had on the coffee table in the middle and handed you the handkerchief she took out of her pocket.

‘‘Here, use this, please.’’

Taking the handkerchief, you wiped your tears quickly. When you saw that the concern in Tomas' gaze didn't subside a bit, you smiled and patted his arm.

‘’I'm really fine, Tomas, you have a good and pure heart. That’s very rare so protect it, okay?’’

‘’You're forgetting that I'm a ninja.’’ Tomas said, returning to his relaxed attitude just now.

‘’But I know that you are serving a good and honorable purpose. You're protecting Earthrealm on behalf of Lord Liu Kang, isn't that right?’’

When Tomas' cheeks turned pink once again and he signaled his approval, your smile widened. Just then, the woman cleared her throat, recapturing your attention. With a gentle smile, she poured tea into a cup and extended it to you, offering it for you to take.

“I made ginger tea for you. It’s good for the cold weather,” the woman said. Despite looking strong and young, her voice hinted at a bit of age. “It’ll soothe you and make you feel better. The ginger has healing properties, a little something to fight the chill and keep you warm.”

‘’Oh, thank you, that's very thoughtful of you.’’

You took the cup between your hands with the happiness of the unexpected gesture. The warmth instantly spread from your fingertips to your hand, warming you up against the cool air.

‘’Would you like me to bring a cup for you too?’’ She said, turning her question to Tomas.

‘’No need, I have to go back to training soon. Maybe later.’’

After the woman offered both of you a polite smile for the last time, she withdrew to leave the two of you alone again. As the pungent smell of ginger spread around, you brought it closer to your lips to take a sip from the cup.

At that time, you caught a glimpse of Bi-Han out of the corner of your eye; he was coming towards your place from the middle of the garden covered with white snow. Since the day you arrived, his gaze, which he has always kept locked on you, found you directly; you were starting to get used to this habit a little. And you responded to him, sipping ginger tea while watching him approach.

The taste burned your throat because the tea was brewed a little too much, but because the heat warmed you up, you ignored the bitter taste and continued to drink in small sips.

‘’Is it nice? I probably don't like ginger tea very much; it reminds me of when I was sick.’’

Tomas' words made you giggle.

‘’I'd say it's drinkable. Besides, a little warmth from ginger won’t hurt.”

“Well, as long as it’s not medicinal.” Tomas said with a grin. As you continued sipping your tea, Bi-Han’s shadow loomed over the two of you, casting a momentary hush. In the quiet pause, the weight of his presence filled the air, and you sensed his usual commanding aura.

‘’Is everything all right?’’ asked Tomas.

"Cyrax needs to go on a mission; you will take over the group he is training for a few days.’’

Tomas shrugged.

‘’Of course, that's all right. Did you come all the way here just to tell me that? You could tell me this at dinner.’’

Bi-Han opened his mouth to answer, which you unintentionally interrupted with your unexpected cough. The cough came out so hard that your throat hurt as if it had been torn out.

Unable to understand what was happening, you dropped the cup you were holding and began desperately rubbing your neck, as if you could take away the pain that was scorching your throat.

‘‘(y/n)?’’ Bi-Han kneeled down in front of you with frowning brows, carefully looking you up and down, trying to figure out what your problem was. When his dark brown eyes were turned to yours again, his gaze hardened as he caught the desperate expression on your face.

‘‘What's the matter?’’

‘’I don't know.’’ The panic in your voice was audible. When you started coughing again, your coughs turned into a crisis and prevented you from breathing. Tomas' anxious voice filled your ears.

‘’She's choking.’’

‘’Shit.’’

Bi-Han’s grip on your arms was vice-like as he swiftly maneuvered you onto your side, averting the risk of drowning in your own saliva. A tidal wave of excruciating pain surged through your body, each convulsive cough accompanied by a guttural groan that fought its way out despite your efforts. The world around you blurred into a nightmarish haze, and an overwhelming sense of panic and fear tightened its grip on your heart.

As the cough increased in intensity, your mouth filled with a metallic taste.

Blood.

‘’Tea! There is poison in the tea!’’

Tomas's voice echoed in your ears. The pain strengthened in waves, increasing its effect on you. It was different from the pain when your throat was cut, you felt like your internal organs were liquefying, and you almost lost consciousness because of this terrible pain.

Your whole body was almost on fire; you were so hot that you thought your skin was melting, and it hurt so much that you were ready to sacrifice everything to make it end.

When you were struggling to survive, you felt like you were touched by something cool. The pain had not disappeared, but the coldness that touched your skin had taken you away from the scorching fire, even a little.

You blinked your eyes a few times, trying to figure out what happened. As the power gradually left your body, you were rapidly weakening in your perceptions.

When you managed to pick out Bi-Han's face, you realized that you were on his lap. Your head was against his chest, and you must have coughed a few more times because the front of his clothes was stained with your blood. When you realized this, you muttered something like ‘‘I'm sorry’’ with your numb lips.

‘’Don't talk,’’ Bi-Han commanded with stern authority. ‘’Don't you dare close your eyes.’’

Writhing in his lap, each groan echoed the inferno within. Blood seeped from the corners of your lips, internal organs ablaze. A feeble utterance managed to escape, ‘‘It hurts.’’ You doubted how much longer you could endure. Keeping your eyelids open felt like an unbearable burden, as if tons of weight pressed upon them, leaving you only able to moan, cry, and squirm.

‘'I know.'’

‘I don't want to die,’ you thought. Facing death for the second time, you understood the feeling, yet you resisted, unprepared to depart. You fought against the engulfing darkness, a powerless struggle in the face of excruciating torment. How much longer could you endure? You didn’t know the answer.

Bi-Han shook you urgently, ‘’Keep your eyes open,’’ he growled. His movement made you moan for a long time like a wounded animal. Would this pain never end? Hot tears or blood? It flowed under the eyelids that you don't know when you closed them.

‘‘You're not going to die, do you hear me? You won't die.’’

Even though you heard Bi-Han's words, all you felt was the darkness engulfing you and the nothingness that came with it.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Hold on, reader-san! Everything will be…okay…I hope.🥲

P.S: I barely had time to edit this, if you notice any errors, please let me know!

P.S 2 : I also learned that Cyrax’s real name is Felix Sam Kaweeson and Sektor’s name is Li Hog Jing.

[muffinpink02]

Bronze Is Better Then Gold part 2

Warning - smutty bits, not smut, angst, fluff

Two hours had passed, and Ona was reading her book in bed, when her phone went off.

Lucy - Don’t think I forgot about our bet! Loser buys lunch, chips and curry sauce is needed for a seconds visit. 😏 xx 

Ona laughed out loud, dipping her head back in her pillow.

Ona - don’t worry I haven’t forgotten, it will be nice having my lunch bought for me 🤤

Lucy - I can’t wait xx 

Ona - me neither, you’re going down xx

Both girls had the exact same thought with Ona’s last text of the night.

Lucy imagined what it would be like to have her head dipping in between Ona’s legs. She wondered what she tasted like, what her moans sounded like. She wondered if she would teased her, would she beg for it. How her brown eyes would look down at her as she pleasured her to no end.

Ona also imagined Lucy’s head bopping up and down in between her legs. She wondered if she moaned when she was down there, or if she used her tongue to fuck. She could see Lucy’s green eyes looking up at her as she rode her face. She wondered if Lucy liked her hair being pulled, if she liked it be spoken to while she ate her out.

Both girls using that exact same thought of Lucy going down to ‘relax’ just a little bit more for the evening.

—————————

The next morning Ona quickly made her way to the coffee shop on the corner of her road, grabbing an oat milk latte for Lucy and a cappuccino for herself.

She got back with five minutes to spare but of course Lucy was already there. She got in the passenger seat, holding up the coffees.

“Good morning. I got you some coffee.” She handed it over to a very tired looking Lucy.

“I needed this so badly, I normally have my canister but I forgot it. Thank you. An actual life saver.”

Her smile was of pure joy, Ona couldn’t have seen a cuter smile.

“You’re welcome.”

“Your ready for today?” Lucy pulled off, taking a sip of the coffee, humming from the taste.

“Yes, I’m excited.”

“I’m glad one of us is.”

——————

Everyone was in there places. All the teams were ready and waiting for Lucy’s call.

Lucy loved and hated this part of the job. It was a complete adrenaline rush. Nothing compared to it. She had planned this for two months, she felt ready. Everything was in place. But no matter how much you planned it could go many ways.

She could get her guys, take them to police custody and have enough evidence to put them in prison. That was what everyone hoped for. Or she could get them and not have enough evidence and they end up back on the street.

Or it could go completely wrong and one of her colleagues or herself could get seriously hurt. That was the one that scared her the most. Sadly she had already been down that route before.

Lucy took a deep breath, she lifted the radio up to her lips.

“Have ram ready for entry. Fire arm officers be ready to enter property.”

She watched as her team moved closer to the property.

Jill then came in over the phone.

“Ready and waiting.”

“Team proceed.”

Over a couple streets away Ona was in the under cover car with Jordan, both waiting for any kind of signal. They could hear Lucy giving orders to the rest of the team.

The door was knocked down easily. Jill and her team entered the property.

They quickly entered each room on the bottom floor, finding nobody.

“Talk to me Scott.” Lucy said.

“Bottom floor is clear.”

Lucy bit her lip.

Jill and her team made their way upstairs. They entered each room, but still nothing. Until they got to the last room on the left, finding two men trying to hide in the wardrobe.

“Come out! Hands up! Get on the floor.”

The men got on the floor. An officer quickly handcuffing both of them.

“We have two males in the property.”

“Is it them Scott?”

Just as Lucy asked she noticed movement at the corner of her eye, she looked to her left. She saw two men turning a corner from the street. She knew who they were straight away. As soon as they saw the police they ran.

“Fuck!” Lucy shouted.

“Suspects on foot! I need all officers on foot, now!.”

Lucy ran towards the men, she could hear her team right behind her.

She watched as the men split up, the smaller man of the two jumped over a wall into a garden, the other heading down a street.

“Suspects have split, I need all officers heading south towards Elm Street, and North street.”

Ona and Jordan looked at each other, Jordan ready for Ona’s instructions.

Lucy didn’t stop running, she couldn’t see either of the men anymore but she didn’t give up. She jumped the wall same at the man did. She watched as he ran towards a field, losing sight of him instantly as he entered the forest.

“I need any nearby vehicles, I have a suspect in the forest.” Lucy spoke into the phone.

“I have vehicles heading towards that area now.” Alex came in over the radio.

Ona had studied the maps, she knew there was no other way to go when coming down North street you had to get to the other end to leave it.

They spotted Bigz, Ona knew it was him straight away. She had studied both of the brother’s faces when Lucy had gone through the history of their crimes. He was a at least ten houses down from them, he hadn’t spotted them.

He was a giant of a man, standing easily over 6ft. He was running at full force down the street, he was on Ona’s side of the car.

“Get down.” Ona whispered.

They both ducked in their seats, Ona had her hand on the door handle. She could hear his feet hitting the pavement hard, she waited for the perfect time.

Bang.

Ona opened the car door, slamming it right into Bigz, he flew off his feet. The man was on the floor rolling around, groaning. Ona jumped out, her gun in her hands aiming at him.

“Stay down, put your hands out. Don’t move.”

Jordan was up and ready handcuffing the man.

“I have suspect Bigz detained.” Ona spoke into the radio.

Lucy felt a sense of relief, it may not have been exactly what she wanted but she at least had one of her guys.

——————-

“Well done Battle. I heard you knocked the guy out.” Demi laughed.

“Ohh no, it wasn’t anything special, it was right place at the right time.” Ona said.

“No, come on, you’re being too modest.” Jill chuckled.

“No really guys. Jordan will agree.”

“Na, you was unreal. I didn’t even realise what you were doing. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

Ona rolled her eyes smiling. “Guys come on.”

“I wish I could have seen it.” Lucy smiled brightly.

All the girls hummed in agreement.

“Ahh it was so cool! I was fan girling all the way back to the office.” Jordan exclaimed.

Ona laughed. “She was fan girling. I thought I was going to have to sign an autograph for her.” She winked at Jordan in jest.

The kitchen erupted in a fit of laughs, Ona chuckled. She could feel those green eyes on her, she looked over at Lucy, who this time didn’t try and hide the fact that she was staring. She stared until Ona felt her skin prickle, making her look away.

————

It was three weeks in since Ona joined the team. She had settled in amazingly, the team were great, they were friendly and helpful. Her manager was supportive, and reasonable. But if she was to be honest the best part of her job was down to a certain brunette.

The girls had gotten significantly closer. It had become a habit where each day Lucy would pick Ona up in the morning and drop her home after work.

And the closer they got the more flirty they got.

So far, it was the only time they got to be alone, and every time they got in Lucy’s car the atmosphere became more sparked. The girls had an easy, flirtatious banter between them and being alone in the car only heightened the tension.

But that also peaked through at work. There was a natural pull between them, an invisible thread that made the girls gravitate towards each other. The want was getting more obvious, especially when Ona would see Lucy hot and sweaty on her lunch break when she had clearly been working out in the buildings gym.

Jordan and the others would constantly ask if anything was going on, but there wasn’t, they had only flirted. No kissing, no touching, they clearly wanted each other but nobody was making the first move.

——————-

“Ready Battle?” Lucy smiled as they entered the changing rooms.

“Yep. Ready to win.” Ona smiled mischievously.

“Ohh I can hear fighting talk.” Jordan laughed.

Today was the combat team training day. It was a requirement the team had to do once a month. It was to insure they had the skills and knew what to do if ever having hand to hand combat.

“Yeah. Ona thinks she can take me on.” Lucy laughed.

“I think she could.” Jordan said it like it wasn’t even a question.

Oma smiled to herself.

“No one on the team has been able to beat me. Why would Ona?” She smiled cheekily at Ona.

“So we’re betting?” Demi then joined in.

“We’ve got a bet on.” Ona smirked. “Loser buys lunch.”

“For everyone?” Jordan got excited.

“No.” Lucy said quickly.

“Oh? Is someone scared? You sound nervous to have to buy lunch for everyone.”

Ona laughed, with the other girls joining in.

But her laughing stopped when Lucy removed her shirt, she wasn’t ready for the  eye watering six pack that was underneath. Ona knew Lucy went gym, she knew Lucy was fit. But she had only ever seen the girl in shirts and trousers.

Lucy saw the change in Ona’s face, she saw where her brown eyes were looking. So in true Lucy style, she firmed her stomach as she removed the rest of her shirt, revealing her muscular arms.

Ona didn’t realise it but she was staring, she couldn’t help it, Lucy was something to stare at, her body was incredible. She could feel her body reacting to the site in form of her. It wasn’t until Lucy cleared her throat that Ona looked up, her green eyes looking at her playfully. Ona darted her eyes away quickly, finding a spot on the wall a lot more interesting.

But Lucy didn’t miss Ona’s physique either, the girl had her own six pack, her body was strong and petite, her milky skin looked edible. Lucy wondered what it would be like to run her tongue all over her skin. She felt her mouth began to salivate. She had to find her own spot on the wall to concentrate on.

The group walked out into the gym, ready for their training.

“Hiya you lot, I hope we’re ready for some combat today. Oh, hello, you’re new.” The Scottish women smiled at Ona.

The tall brunette woman looked over at Ona.

“Hi, I’m Ona.”

“Oh you’re Ona? I’ve heard about you, I heard about the guy you took down. Good on you. I’m Jen by the way.”

She smiled at Ona, making the shorter girl blush. Lucy couldn’t help but feel a little jealous.

“Okay you know the drill, get in to pairs, we’ll go over the moves, then I want you to try and get your partner on the floor, have them down for a least ten seconds. Can I get a volunteer. Ona care to be my partner?”

“Sure.” Ona nodded and smiled.

Jen smiled at her a little bit too flirty for Lucy’s liking but she tried to ignore the jealousy.

“Okay, Ona. I’m the attacker, I’m going to come at you and I want you to stop me.”

Jen went through many different techniques and moves with Ona, too many times Lucy noticed Jen’s hands lingering on the girl longer than needed. But she may have just been a bit jealous.

Jordan nudged Lucy, smirking. “I think someone else likes your girl.”

Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Okay, try that with your partners. Gentle at first but then I want to see you go for it. To a degree obviously. I’ll come round and watch you. A clap for my amazing assistant.”

The group clapped and whooped.

Jen helped Ona up. “Thank you Ona, you were great.” She winked at the younger girl.

Everyone pared up, Ona and Lucy made a bee line for each other.

“Right, you ready?”

“Bring it.” Ona smiled.

The girls were gentle with each other at first, like most of the other pairs, going over the moves. By the last move Lucy had Ona on her back.

She smirked as she helped the girl up.

“Thats one to me.”

“For now.”

Ona got Lucy on the floor next, with a quick move to the ankle, Lucy was more than shocked when her back hit the floor. Ona got her down three more times, on her back and her front with quick moves. So far Lucy has only gotten Ona down twice.

“Nice Ona. No one can ever beat this one. You losing your game Bronze?” Jen chuckled.

Lucy forced out a laugh. Wiping her sweaty brow.

Ona smirked at Lucy, she could tell she was getting to her. This time Lucy did have her, but only for five seconds, Ona wrapped her legs around her waist and held her head, not tightly but enough for Lucy to let go.

The girls were panting, neither would admit it but both girls were getting worked up, and not in a fighting sense but more of a sexual working up.

Both maybe even a little wet.

You couldn’t blame them, this was the closest they had been physically in real life, and not just their day dreams.

Lucy grabbed Ona from behind, pushing out her legs getting her to her knees, she easily got her on her front with her knee in her back, not enough to hurt but enough for Ona to forth it.

“Okay guys, I want you to do the last move. Someone on their back.” Jenny shouted out.

“I can go on my back.” Ona breathed out.

Lucy nodded, not trusting herself to be mature enough to speak.

Ona laid on her back, waiting for Lucy to straddle her.

The brunette looked down at the smaller girl, her chest rising hard, she couldn’t help but feel heat travel in between her legs.

She slowly sat softly on Ona’s stomach, she could feel her own cheeks going red, thankfully she could blame it on the training. She looked down at Ona, her brown eyes were looking up at her, a shy smile was on her face, she clearly could feel her own heat travelling south between her legs.

“And start.” Jen shouted.

Ona didn’t even have a chance to move before Lucy grabbed her arms and lifted them above her head, pinging the girl down. This is where Lucy had the advantage, she was bigger than the girl and technically she was stronger.

Ona grunted as she tried to flip, thrusting her hips up and down, causing Lucy to bounce on her. But Lucy’s thighs held her down hard. She gritted her teeth, and tried again but she couldn’t move the older brunette.

Lucy was definitely blushing now, she knew she shouldn’t but the movements Ona was doing was making it hard to concentrate. She watched as the girl closed her eyes, trying to think.

The Spaniard opened her eyes to see Lucy staring down at her, her pupils nearly took over the green in her eyes. She smirked down at Ona.

“Can’t move can ya?”

Ona chuckled, Lucy felt her stomach knot up, having Ona beneath her, laughing up at her, a panting mess, thrusting up into her own heat was a moment she’d never forget.

Ona could see the way Lucy was looking at her, she had looked at Lucy like that many times before, so she decided to go about it another way.

She bit her lip, innocently looking up at Lucy, she groaned a little differently to how she did before, the grunt slipped into a small moan from deep within her throat. She breathed a little harder, making her chest rise. She thrusted her hips with more pressure and precision.

Lucy’s face was a picture. Ona could feel Lucy had loosened her own thighs.

“Creo que estás disfrutando esto demasiado.” (I think you’re enjoying this a little too much.) Ona whispered

“No es una mala vista.” (It’s not a bad site.) Lucy whispered back.

Ona used that opportunity to buck Lucy hard, finally pulling her wrists free. She grabbed Lucy with her own thigh and swapped their positions.

Once again Lucy was last for words, for more reasons than one.

Ona did what Lucy did to her, she grabbed her wrists, pinging them above her head, but she quickly dipped her head next to Lucy’s. She whispered.

“You’re too easy.” She smiled smugly down at Lucy.

Lucy could feel her nipples perk, even though she was hot and sweaty a shiver went down her spine just from Ona’s words.

She tried to bounce the girl off, but it only made it worse, she watched as Ona bit her lip, tightening her hold on her wrists. She could feel herself getting wet, her body was melting underneath the younger girl.

“And time. Let’s finish it off there.”

Ona let go of Lucy’s wrists, she saw she left marks on her wrist, instantly feeling bad.

“Oh Lucy, I’m sorry did I hurt you?”

“What? Oh, no not at all, maybe my pride but no.” Lucy chuckled.

Ona laughed, she reluctantly got off of Lucy, helping the brunette to her feet.

“Okay guys, well done. That’s it for today. I’ll see you again next month.” The room clapped and thanked Jen, slowly making their way back to the changing room.

“Hey Ona, can I have a word?”

“Oh, sure. What’s up?”

Lucy felt her jealousy creeping back up, she carried on walking trying once again ignore it.

***********

It was the end of the day, Lucy finished up writing up some documents, while Ona looked into more on the current case they were working on.

“Done! You ready to head off?”

Oma smiled brightly up at Lucy.

“Sii, I’m ready.”

They were waiting at traffic lights when Lucy couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“So what did Jen want?”

“Hmm?”

“Jen, she wanted to speak to you after the training.”

“Oh, she asked if I had done any kickboxing before. She runs a class and wanted to know if I’d ever like to join.”

“Ohh. Yeah, I think you impressed her.” Lucy smiled softly at Ona.

“Yeah, she also asked if I was ever free for a drink, she’d like to take me.” Ona tried to say it as casual as she could.

Lucy felt her stomach drop. But of course she wasn’t going to let it show.

“Ohh yeah? Will you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve kind of got my eye on someone else.”

Lucy had a feeling she knew who she meant, but didn’t press for anymore.

——————-

Ona looked at the Halloween decorations hung up around the office, it was nearly the end of October. It had nearly been a month that Ona had joined her new team.

She was in the kitchen making herself and Lucy a tea, making sure to let the tea bag sit.

“Alright Ona? Do you wanna sign the birthday card?” Jess Carter smiled brightly at her.

“Oh sure, who’s it for?”

“Lucy.”

“Bronze?”

“The one and only.”

“Is it today?”

“No, tomorrow. Getting it signed so it’s ready.”

“Oh, okay.”

Ona was surprised that Lucy hadn’t mentioned anything, but then she also wasn’t. The girl didn’t like much fuss over her.

She signed the card and gave it to Jess.

“Thanks Ona.”

Ona didn’t mention that she knew about her birthday instead she thought she’d surprise the girl.

————-

Lucy pulled up outside Ona’s house, the shorter girl was there as usual, with a beautiful smile on her face and two coffees in her hands.

“Morning.” Lucy smiled.

“Good morning birthday girl!” Ona handed over her coffee.

Lucy was shocked, how did Ona know? One of the girls must have mentioned it.

“Ahh thank you.”

“I got you something.”

“What? No! You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.” Ona smiled.

Lucy shook her head smiling.

“Well I made you something. As I didn’t have time to buy anything because I only found out yesterday.” Ona made a point to look at her with an annoyed face.

“Sorry, I didn’t mention it. I don’t like celebrating my birthdays.”

Ona looked at her with wondering eyes, like she was trying to work something out in her head. She did that often with Lucy, her brown eyes could look right through you, like she could see what you were thinking.

“Well, I want to change that because you should celebrate your life. Anyways here.”

She handed over a container box, Lucy could smell it straight away. Her mouth watered. She opened it up to see freshly cooked, freshly glazed, cinnamon rolls Lucy’s all time favourite.

“Oh my god, these look unreal. Did you make them?”

“Yeah.” Ona smiled proudly.

“Ona, thank you so much.”

“It’s okay. I know you mentioned they were your favourite.”

“You remembered?”

“Yeah. Of course.”

Lucy wanted to slide over and kiss the girl, she’d gone out of her way just to make her day special, and she hadn’t even told her. She suddenly felt silly for not telling her.

“Can I have one now?”

“Of course, they are yours! Eat.”

“You have one too.” Lucy passed over the box after taking her own.

“Thank you.” Ona smiled.

Lucy couldn’t help the moan she let out when she sunk her teeth into the sugary treat.

Ona had to try and pretend it didn’t affect her.

“Oh my god. These are the best cinnamon rolls I’ve ever had.“

Ona giggled, sucking her thumb from frosting.

“I’m glad you like them.”

A comfortable silence fell over them, while the radio played and they finished their treats.

“That was amazing! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Oh you’ve got some cream on your….here let me.”

Ona reached over, wiping the glazing off of Lucy’s chin. The older brunette watched as Ona kept her eyes on her lips, she then sucked the frosting of her thumb as she looked up at Lucy with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Lucy felt her face heat up, her mouth stayed open as she watched Ona sitting innocently in her seat.

“Gone.” She smiled.

The strength it took for Lucy to not grab Ona buy her jacket and throw her in the back seat of the car and have her way with her was incredibly difficult.

***************

“Happy birthday dear Lucy, happy birthday to you!” The office started to cheer and clap as Lucy blew out her candles on her cake.

She cut the chocolate cake up for everyone in the office.

“Where we going this weekend then?” Jordan asked with a mouthful of cake.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

“Oh come on. Why not? It’s your birthday grumpy arse, we’re going out.” Jordan pointed her fork at Lucy.

“Yeah Bronze, it’s only your birthday once a year. Stop being boring. I’m sure Ona wants to have a night out with us, don’t ya Ona.” Jill nodded towards Ona.

“Yeah, I agree. Stop being boring.” Ona smirked at Lucy.

“Great that settles it. I’ll book that karaoke place you like.” Jordan was already on her phone booking a table.

“I’ll put it in the group chat to see who else wants to come.” Demi took out her phone.

👮 🚓 👮 group chat 

Demi - we’re out for Lucy’s birthday tomorrow, going pub, karaoke then bar let me know if you’re coming

Jess C - yes!! 🙌🏼

Alex G - can’t wait, will be there x 💃🏻

Millie B - I’ll be there x

Lauren J - yesss 🐐

Lauren H - yay! Do I have to sing?

Rachel - might have to miss pub but will be there for the rest 🪩

Esme - yes!! I know my song already 🎤 x

Mary - whooop! Yess what time? X

Demi - 8pm at the kings head, 9 for karaoke then we can head to the pink lady

Beth - you’ll see me there! X

Lucy - I guess I’ll be there 🤨

Jordan - you can come if you like

Jill - does she have to?

Ona laughed at the groups dynamics, over the last month she had got to know some of the girls, she couldn’t wait to have a night out with them.

**********

It was the end of the day and as usual Ona and Lucy walked to the older girls car. Just as they sat down Lucy’s phone started to ring, her mums name coming up in with a FaceTime.

“Ergh sorry, let me just grab this quickly.” Lucy picked up her phone .

“No worries.” Ona went on her own phone.

An older ladies voice came through loudly through the speaker.

“Happy birthday!! I won’t sing, I know you don’t like that. How’s your day been? Those cinnamon rolls looked gorgeous! I can’t believe your friend Ona made that for you. That’s so lovely of her! Don’t eat them all at once, you’ll be sick. You look a bit thin Lucy, you eating enough?”

Lucy closed her eyes, she loved her mum but sometimes she could talk for Britain.

Ona couldn’t hold the smile that plastered her face. The fact that Lucy sent a picture of the rolls to her mum melted her heart. She thought about Lucy taking a picture and thinking to send that to her mum, it made Ona’s instantly smile.

Lucy saw her smiling, she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her own face

“What’s that? Why you smiling? Is someone there? Who you smiling at?”

“Ona’s in the car with me now. She can hear you questioning me like a Detective.”

“Ohh hola Ona! Those buns were beautiful! If I ever come down I’ll have to have you make me some.” Lucy’s mum laughed.

Lucy mouthed ‘sorry’ to Ona. But her mum of course so her.

“Oi don’t be rude missy, let me say hello to Ona. Turn the phone around.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, she turned it just enough for her mum, Ona leaned in close to Lucy so she could say hello.

She saw a woman that looked just like Lucy, she could actually see what Lucy would look like in years to come. Her bright smile was the spitting image.

“Hello Ona, oh you are a pretty thing. You weren’t lying was you said she was pretty Lu- what? No, I’m on the phone!”

Lucy contemplated on just dashing her phone out the window from pure embarrassment. Her mum had just let it slip that she had maybe mentioned Ona before and even the fact that she said she was pretty. She wanted to simply run away.

“It’s under the stairs. Your dad says happy birthday. Are you two going for a meal for your birthday?” Lucy’s mum smiled down the camera.

A second of silence fell over the girls as if one wanted to see what the other would say.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Ona looked over at Lucy with her big brown eyes. For the first time Lucy was glad her mum opened her mouth, she may have just  made her day even better.

“Yeah?” Lucy said.

“Alright I’ll let you two sort that out. I’m glad you’ve had a good day Lucy. Was lovely to finally meet Ona, Lucy doesn’t stop talking about you. Lovely to put a pretty face to a pretty name.”

Lucy’s face was definitely red now.

“Ahh thank you, it was lovely to meet you too.” Ona smiled at the camera.

“Okay, bye mum, thank you for calling.”

“Bye Lucy, I’ll call you soon.”

Lucy hung up the phone, looking over at On.

“So where do you wanna eat?” Ona smiled playfully at Lucy

[wxnheart]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡, '𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐁𝐮��𝐤 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐇𝐞 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐅**𝐤' 𝐄𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

note: dedicated to the lovely @bitchysouljellyfish. I absolutely enjoy our conversations and it's thanks to you that I came up with this idea. also, dear viewers, this is more a König x Ghost scenario but you'll be watching from the sidelines... because Simon says so.

POV: You're watching two of the finest men you know about to fuck like wild animals...

It's official. You hate Ghost. You hate Ghost with the force of a thousand fucking suns. Fuck him.

And fuck König, too, for cosigning this bullshit. Fuck both of them. You hope the glare you shot Simon got your point across.

Yeah, you hate them right now, but goddamn... they're fucking beautiful like this. And you can't do a damn thing about it.

It all started when Simon fucking snapped earlier. König got the best of him again and the bastard took it personally. Again. And in pure Ghost fashion, he shot the Austrian his signature glare and if you didn't know Simon well, you'd think he was trying to kill König ten times over with the way he was looking at him. But he wasn't. Not really. Not unless you count sex as murder.

Simon glared, body taut, and it was a mixture of frustration and pure unadulterated want. And poor König, looking startled, somewhat wary, and... oh—

Hard. They're both hard. Oh shit. When did that happen?

It was like a flash. They were staring each other down and next thing you know, Simon managed to tackle and pin König down on the floor. Oh shit. Bet y'all weren't expecting that.

Time to intervene—"Sit down." Huh? Say what now? "Simon—" "Sit. Down." You wanted to challenge him but... consequences, baby. And his voice sent shivers down your spine. So you sat. And you watched with rapt attention. And so was König, apparently. Huh. You thought he'd be more resistant to whatever was happening but he was just as interested in seeing this through as you were. Hell, you both wondered what the fuck Ghost was going to do next.

Well, you two didn't have to wonder long. Ghost practically ripped König's clothes off him he was so damn aroused. And oh, poor König, shocked and startled and hard and leaking... and, oh god. Fuck, Ghost...

His clothes came off just as quickly. And to hell with foreplay. Nah, it's all or nothing with this. No preparation, no fucking kisses, just the main course, a rush of adrenaline and pure and utter hate.

Goddamn, you remember the last time you and Simon hatefucked. Felt like you couldn't walk or see straight for the rest of the fucking day. Now it was König's turn. You squeezed your thighs together and bit your lip to suppress a moan of pleasure. Oh, you felt yourself getting hot. But Simon had you both fooled. No words. No indication. Just adrenaline and pure and utter hate. Shocking, wasn't it? The bastard just grabbed König's dick and made himself home on it. Slowly. Almost too fucking slow for your tastes. And König's. German curses under his breath, fingers twitching, and frustration emanating off of him in droves. And Simon's groan didn't make shit any better. ("F-Fucking hell...")

And what do you know? The motherfucker wouldn't even give König the satisfaction of touching him. Practically snarled the moment he tried to grab hold of his hips and pull him down even further. But fuck that noise. Simon didn't give a damn (well he did but that's not the point right now). Hope it felt so goddamn good he'd go insane. God, what was wrong with him? It hurt so damn much; his body was on fire but fuck if it didn't feel good, if his baby didn't feel good inside him. Fucking bastard.

It wasn't long (it felt like it though) before König was completely sheathed in Simon and it felt like you three were falling apart at the seams. Yeah, shit like this couldn't wait. Simon grabbed the taller man by his chin and made him look ("Look at me."), made him watch as—oh fuck, the way he moaned, the way he started to move, to make his taller lover fucking groan and come undone. And fuck you, König. He'd show you he could beat you where it counts. He'd show you who bested who in the end.

König couldn't complain, his breath was too busy being taken away, and hell, you weren't that far behind, watching the scene unfold before you, knowing that Simon would and could make this last as long or as short as he wanted to.

So yeah, fuck you Ghost, and fuck you, König for making this shit so. fucking. beautiful. Goddamn...

You opened your thighs. Your hand traveled lower and it wasn't long before your moans joined theirs.

[haithamuse]

໒꒱.∘ 02:23 AM ──── REO MIKAGE

absolutely no clue if this is coherent, but i don't really care as this is purely self-indulgent. i love him so much guys i could cry.

cw. lil bit of swearing but it wouldn't be my writing without it, mention of bruises

your eyes narrowed at the bright light when you reached for your phone after waking up, realising it was the middle of the night. apparently it looks like this was yet another dreadful night with two hours of sleep, as rest has not been able to find you easily lately.

groaning internally, you let your body fall back into the mattress, contemplating wether you should get up or stare at the ceiling until morning. suddenly though, you freeze after you feel your arm not hitting the empty bed sheets, but something — or rather, someone else instead.

reo stirred slightly at the contact and your head fell to the side, carefully watching the outlines of his body in the dark for any indication of disturbing his peaceful slumber. you held in for a few seconds, before carefully pulling your arm back. a sigh of relief left your lips as you realised that, no — your boyfriend still seemed to be asleep.

on the other hand though, that little rush of adrenaline also made something else clear to you — falling back asleep was not going to happen soon. ‘fucking hell’, you pinched the bridge of your nose, exasperatedly resigning to your fate.

in one swift motion, you carefully flipped the covers to the side and swung your legs over the side of the bed — goosebumps immediately growing on your skin as soon as your feet touch the cold ground. before you could reach the door however, the rustling of your bedsheets could be heard again. “wait”, reo groaned with sleep still evident in his voice.

you turned around in surprise, as you were sure you had not woken him up, “you’re awake?”

“how could i not?”, he yawned and with the little light that came from the window, you could make out how he was rubbing his eyes — presumably to wipe the sleepiness out of them. “after being so rudely awakened.”

there was a playful lilt in his voice, but you still felt bad for waking him up. on the flipside however, it made you appreciate the decision to position your bed next to the window. it allowed you to look at his shirtless upper body in — quite literally — a different light.

it was beautiful how the moonlight highlighted his defined muscles. it framed his body perfectly, bringing out all those curves, bumps and dips or birth marks that you loved so much. even that almost healed bruise on his right shoulder, which came into being when a practice match didn’t go quite as it was supposed to do.

you actually saw how it happened, as you were right there. it wasn’t planned for you to be there at his practice, but reo had forgotten his house keys. you noticed it as you were about to go out and buy groceries, and being the thoughtful partner that you are, decided to drop them off before going on about your day.

so imagine your surprise when you saw your boyfriend laying on the field with a bunch of his teammates surrounding him.

to say that you threw a fit and acted like he was dying was an understatement — and reo even still teases you about it! though some of his teammates call him quite the lucky guy for having such a caring s/o, reo still tells you that ‘it’s not a big deal’ and to ‘stop worrying so much’. little do you know though that his heart always skips a beat whenever you show that you care, silently begging for you to keep loving him like that.

your fleeting thoughts were suddenly interrupted and you were pulled back to reality, as you felt reo pinching your ass, quickly dodging as you squealed in surprise and instinctively kicked for his legs in response. “c’mon let’s go”, your boyfriend just chuckled and ruffled your hair. even as you pouted at him and reo being barely concious, he’s still being the same gentleman as always and opens the door for you, guiding you through by placing his hand at the small of your back.

it doesn’t matter when or where you are, reo always looks out for you.

you, however, where dumbfounded, “what?”

“kitchen”, he simply stated. “hot chocolate.”

you didn’t even have to tell him, because reo already knew.

wanna be notified of when i post? click here.

[minx1o]

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙨 ᶠᵉᵃᵗ ʳⁱⁿ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴡᴀ��ᴛ ꜰɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛɪꜰᴜʟ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ɢᴇᴛꜱ ɪɴ ᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴇᴇ.

ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴘʀᴏ ʀɪɴ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1ᴋ

Rin still remembers the adrenaline rush that filled his senses that day- the focus he directed into every step he made. It was as if he was treading down an outrageously thin line that could break at any given moment.

Maybe he was exaggerating.

Nevertheless, whether or not he was being dramatic; all of that didn’t matter.

Not when you’re sitting in front of him, roughly 3 feet away with the full moon shining behind you. Looking your best.

But that meant anything. After all, you’ve always looked your best every second of every single day he lays his eyes on you.

His eyes were fixated on your face, his facial expression remained still- he knew he was spacing out but he knows he can’t help but ignore the rest of the world when he’s with you.

In truth, there was absolutely no need to be nervous at all, he was fairly sure you would say yes. Those days where you would promise each other the world whilst laying on his couch after an exhausting movie night were full undeniable proof that you loved him. And he knew that

So why on earth is he near trembling as he's tracing the outline of the box in his pocket, he will never know.

From the moment he asked if he could take you to a date, you knew something was up.

He was particularly jittery and quite awkward, but you paid no mind to it- after all, it could just be stress from all that work he’s been doing

However deep inside, there is a strong gut instinct within you that wants to hope that he’s finally doing it.

It’s not strange for you to hope things would turn out this way. You have been dating since you were 17.

Which means you’ve been dating for 9 and a half years.

And yet, still no ring on your finger.

Your friends and relatives constantly tease you about it, it’s no doubt the both of you are still very young and have much more left of life to explore, but you can’t help but feel scared of how fragile such a flimsy relationship is.

You are almost a 100% sure you don’t doubt what you and him have….but still.

It’s not that you’re rushing him, well actually you don’t know why you want to get engaged so much.

Maybe it’s because you need some form of reassurance that he wants to be with you.

Maybe you’re scared that he doesn’t want to spend the forever he promised you.

Either way, you are here now, sitting in the balcony of this newly opened high-class restaurant- the moon is full and the stars sparkle in his eyes with pure perfection.

Even the stars and the moon fail to shine in his presence.

Dessert is served, and you quickly reach out to the tiramisu cheesecake- only to be stopped by the man in front of you. His hold on your arm is tight and stern, and you cant help but pause and give him a confused expression.

“Rin?..”

“Before anything else… can you please.. listen for a bit?...”

Its happening

He leaves his seat to kneel on the floor- his face ever so sincere, and his eyes sparkle more than ever.

Its happening

He pulls out the small navy velvet box that has been settling uncomfortably in his pocket, and opens it in front of you. Eyes never drifting away from your gaze.

“Love, from the moment I laid my eyes on you I knew I wanted nothing else but to be with you. You have been the sole muse- the main character of my own life. I don’t know I even deserve to be here, kneeling before you- asking you to promise me your world, but I simply cannot live a life knowing you wont be there to greet me the moment I wake up every single morning. So please-“

His tone slightly breaks, as his gaze softens.

There are a million thoughts going on inside his head, each and every one of them centers you- only you

His heart race and he can feel his palms quaking more and more with each passing second.

He knew he was never the type to be nervous, but how could he not be nervous when your future and the rest of your forevers rely on this one singular moment.

It baffles him how a single yes or no could determine the flow of the next 25, heck even the next 50 years of his life.

He parts his lips and takes a breath before proceeding.

“Please, would you be there with me through all the seconds of all the days left in our forevers?”

Your breath hitches- it takes everything in you not to bawl out crying and straight up throw yourself into him.

And everything in you betrays you as you did exactly that.

Okay it was an exaggeration- you didn’t exactly bawl out, but you still cried.

Your arms fall straight into shoulders as you drop all you weight into him, his eyes widened as he immediately catches you with one hand, as the other stabilizes the ring he is holding.

You swarm him with the tightest hug you can give. The moment lift your head to look up to him and stare at his face, his expression goes from a shocked one, to one that looks like he was about to cry. A small smile creeps into his face as you fail to resist the urge to crash your lips into his- not minding where you are right now.

He departs his lips from yours and reaches out to the discarded box the he placed on the floor.

“So, is that a yes or a no”

“Just put the ring on”

He chuckles as he slides the ring perfectly on your ring finger. Again, his eyes never leaving you.

You start kissing him again and you could’ve sworn you heard wedding bells at that moment.

[souperbloom]

hey, i had an idea for a fic where reader is part of the band and is dating ashton. she originally wrote 'english love affair' and it gets chosen on the dice while on tour, and ash gets jealous about her performing it coz she wrote it about someone else so he gets moody - mostly angsty, but kinda smutty towards the end?

the face i made when i first read this, omg. friend, you are a GENUIS. YES.

enjoy, you little genius. <3

————————

my english love affair [A.I.]

🎲 boyfriend!ash x bandmate!reader

after rolling the dice and performing a song about a girl you used to see, Ashton gets jealous over the fact that he’s not the one you’re singing about.

a/n: the boys have nicknamed you ‘peanut’. no reason, just thought it was cute and have been dying to use it :3

CONTENT WARNINGS: angst, tension, angry Ash, ref. to past hookups, strong language, ref. to weed, teasing (sexually & literally).

WORDCOUNT: ~3.9k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

"Thank you, London! Goodnight!"

You watch with wide eyes as your frontman, Luke, blows kisses into the arena, at fans that had been reaching out to the stage since the moment the curtain fell.

A rush of adrenaline washes over you, faced with yet another insanely energetic crowd that had poured nothing less than their hearts out to you.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," You mouth out to them, your hands clasped over your chest in pure adoration.

Above all the screaming, a thunderous drum rollout plays you off; the familiar, rhythmic tapping sounding off like sirens in your head.

It extends for a few minutes longer than normal, as your bandmates throw gifts into the crowd.

You can’t help but look behind you at the drum kit, something you always find yourself doing no matter when or why. For your lover is the one behind those tubs; the one providing you with one of the most wicked bow outs of the century.

Your eyes quickly find the flurry of sweaty curls and drumsticks, anticipating his cymbal crashes as you’d learned them like the back of your hand.

As he destroys the final beats, his eyes glance up to you; a frantic, rage-fueled expression adorning his face with the final cracks at his cymbals.

The crowd grows louder, catching your attention— you take your eyes off of him for a moment, as the rest of the boys start to huddle around you.

"You fuckin’ killed it tonight, Peanut." A broad hand grips your shoulder, Michael ducking down to whisper in your ear beyond your ear piece.

"You too, Mikey."

Another hand wraps your back, Luke coming up to your side to give you a gentle squeeze.

As moments pass by, you and the rest of your bandmates get in order for the final bow. With Michael on your right and Luke on your left, you lean forward to watch Calum join the line.

Your brows then furrow when you notice a certain somebody taking a few extra minutes to toss his drumsticks into the crowd.

"What’s up with him?" Luke leans into the side of your face, gesturing towards your boyfriend with his eyes.

All you could do is shrug, before plastering a smile on your face and speaking through your teeth.

"Who the fuck knows."

Ashton seemed off, to say the least. You weren’t quite sure where his head was at since the second Luke sent that damn dice into the crowd. But the most you could do in this moment was grin, filled with overwhelming happiness at the reception of this incredible crowd.

"He’s coming," Luke mumbles, before switching whatever monotone face he had on into a smile.

"Finally."

You watch as Ashton joins the line, trying to sneak a glance at him over Luke and Calum’s bodies.

But he doesn’t even look up. His lips were painted into a straight line as Calum bends down to initiate your bow out.

You thought to yourself, as your bodies bent down to face the floor:

Whatever the fuck’s gotten into him better have a damn good explanation.

After the final bow to close another sold out show, you and the rest of the boys had made your way offstage.

Being the only girl in the band had its perks— you got your very own dressing room 90% of the time, one decked out with all of your favorite fixings and beverages.

But the best perk of all, was that the afterparties always happened in the boys’ room.

"What a fuckin’ show!" Calum pumps his fist triumphantly, as he is the first to lead you all into the room. He jumps up, smacking the top of the doorframe with his palms and letting out a hoot.

The rest of you funnel in, filled to the brim with adrenaline and post-show excitement.

"God, I know— The energy… fuckin’ electric, man…" Michael still seems in awe of it all, with unkempt pink locks that had been disturbed by him tossing off snapback.

"I feel like I could run a goddamn mile," Luke blurts, jogging in place.

You and Ashton are the last two to enter the room, Ashton still having barely spoken a word to you, or anyone else, since in your fifteen minutes of being off stage.

"You guys want anything to drink?" Calum asks, while Michael and Luke make their way to the couch.

"I’ll take a coke," you shrug, trying to ignore the elephant in the room that just so happens to be your brooding boyfriend.

"Really, Peanut? After a show like that, you’re settling for a can of coke? How about we put some Jack in that bitch and call it even?" Michael looks at you with teasing eyes as you wait for Ashton to find his seat.

Post-show parties and conversations were a ritual for you as a band— each of you needing your own times in the spotlight to debrief, and let off steam.

These gatherings you shared were like a perfectly thought-out routine. Mike and Luke sit down on their couch, Cal grabs the refreshments, and you make your way to your assigned seat on Ashton’s lap. Sometimes, Ashton would roll up a spliff for the four of you to share, especially if the show was one like tonight’s.

But Ashton lingering on his phone in the doorframe was never part of this routine. You didn’t like it one bit.

Michael, Calum, and Luke begin to talk amongst themselves, leaving you standing and watching your beau with worried eyes. His knuckles were practically going white as he anxiously ticked, mindlessly clawing at the pocket of his dress pants.

A snapping sound grabs your attention from across the room.

"Hey, lovebirds— the fuck’s up with you guys?" Luke quizzes, his brow quirked as Calum hands him a can of spiked seltzer.

You shake your head, "Fuck if I know."

Your words make Ashton’s head snap up from his phone; sending a bothered glance in your direction. But you just ignore it. You didn’t want to risk ruining a perfect night over some trivial bullshit.

"Well? Gonna’ take a seat, Ash? That chair’s got you and Y/N’s names all over it."

You stifle a giggle at Michael’s reference to you and Ashton’s routine, your eyes bouncing back and forth between your pink haired friend and your unamused boyfriend.

"C’mon baby, sit down," you coo, walking over to the brown leather arm chair that has been deemed your throne, "Let off some steam."

Ashton lets out a huff, causing the general chatter of the room to grow quiet. The rest of you watch in solace as Ashton shoves his phone in pocket, and walks towards you.

He brushes past your shoulder coldly, before sitting down with a loud sigh.

"Dude. What’s going on with you?— Lighten the hell up."

Calum’s jab only earns a nasty look from Ashton, but you just remain still, standing above him while he leans back comfortably in his arm chair.

There’s an awkward silence surrounding you all, before Ashton’s fingers start rhythmically tapping on his thigh.

"Well? I’m sitting," he says dryly, the first words he’d spoken in a while, "Happy now?"

Luke and Michael toss each other a look, before Calum walks over to you with your drink.

"I’d be happier if you put a smile on that face," Calum says, leaning down to be parallel with Ashton’s steely expression. You try your hardest to remain stern, putting your poker face on lockdown.

As much as you hated to see your boyfriend so solemn and serious, you found it a bit amusing.

Ashton was one of the least serious people you had ever come across, which is one of the reasons why you worked so well as a couple.

He’d tell jokes, you’d laugh, then fire one right back at him. It was just one of those indescribable instances that made the two of you perfect for each other.

But seeing him so stone-cold, so inexpressible, you were sure it was some sort of joke.

You test your luck, shuffling between his legs and fluttering down into his lap. Usually, his hands would instantly grab ahold of your waist, before chatting up a storm. But instead of that, his hands completely dodged your body, folding them into his lap with his elbow resting on your thigh.

"Should I play music? Not gonna lie, I fuckin’ hate the vibes in this room right now…" Michael breaks the tense, ongoing silence.

"Oooh, can you play some Zeppelin?" Luke requests.

"Queue up some ‘Sabbath while you’re at it," says Calum.

As the other boys bicker about what songs to play, you’re left staring down at your lover. His blank expression had yet to dwindle, and you were certain that if you had stood in front of him, he’d be able to shoot daggers into your back with his stare alone.

"What’s the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" You ask the question quietly, ducking down into his ear. Your hand travels up to toy with the baby curls that sat at the nape of his neck, which he normally goes crazy for.

But even with you asking, he didn’t move a muscle.

"Okay," you shrug, helpless, "fine. Don’t say anything then."

A pinprick tugs at your heartstrings upon Ashton’s refusal to speak. But you try to push that worrisome feeling down with the rest of your intrusive thoughts, hoping to focus solely on having a good time.

Dazed and Confused by Led Zeppelin starts to roll through the speakers behind the ambiance of conversation, with Calum and Luke now aiming the discussion towards the show.

"Can we just talk about how Luke’s fly was down the entire time? Like, from curtain fall—"

"Fuck you mate," Luke defends, the heated little argument grabbing your attention, "I swear I pulled it up! Must’ve fallen down— ‘er something…"

"It’s true, I saw him do it," You interject, raising your drink in the air.

"Okay, but how did it manage to fall down by the second song of the set? That’s gotta be a record or something… is anybody keeping track?"

Michael practically spits out his drink at Calum’s observation.

"Oh, ha ha, veeery funny. Let’s all laugh at the amount of times Luke has gone out on stage with his fly down… I swear, it’s like Peanut is the only one who actually gives a shit about me." Luke leans back into the couch, looking down at his fly before taking a sip of his own drink.

"Speakin’ of Peanut… dude, what the actual fuck was that?!" Michael shoots up from his seat excitedly, his eyes going glossy at you.

"What was what?" you ask.

"English Love Affair? You haven’t performed it in a while. Not like the way you did tonight, at least. How’d it fuckin’ feel?"

"Singin’ about your mistress in her hometown must’ve been a real culture shock, huh." Calum mumbles.

You can’t help but laugh, "It wasn’t that extraordinary… But, I’ll admit, it’s a damn good song. I did write it for that reason—"

"Don’t be so humble, Y/N." Luke jokes.

As you and the rest of the band go back and forth, you notice Ashton’s leg out of the corner of your eye. It had started feverishly bobbing up and down, with him still not speaking a word throughout this entire conversation.

"The crowd was eating it up, too— you were like a fuckin’ machine out there."

Your cheeks flush pink at Michael’s compliment, "You don’t mean that."

"Oh, but I do. God, I can’t even describe it… When you sing that song it’s like you get possessed ‘er some shit."

Calum snorts, "Yeah, possessed by some good pussy."

That comment seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, for Ashton is suddenly shooting upward in his seat, sending you flying with him.

Your head whips to face him, his cheeks glowing red hot. He only utters four words, before guiding you off of his lap and standing up himself.

"I need a fuckin’ smoke."

The lot of you watch in shock as Ashton angrily barrels out of the room, slamming open the door and making it hit the wall with a loud crash. You all jump, before passing each other confused, worried glances.

"What— what the fuck was that?"

You let out an angry huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers. Luke only chuckles, before tossing his hands in the air.

"Well, Y/N— looks like it’s time for you to do your thing. Go tame that raging bull."

Your eyes land at least once on all of the boys, each of them giving you a ‘you probably should go out there and get him’ type of look.

"Why does it always have to be me?" You sigh, but Michael sucks his teeth.

"I think you already know the answer to that one, Peanut."

After the boys had shooed you out of the dressing room, you set off down the halls to look for Ashton. You checked every corner, every bathroom, every area with a chair to sit and ponder in; but the angry mess of a dirty blonde mullet and dress pants was nowhere to be found.

You contemplated giving up after circling the same hallway for a third time, your legs feeling like wet noodles as you trudged along the dimly lit corridors—

But you then felt your shoulders relax when you noticed a rock propping open the outside door.

"Ashton?" You call out, pushing the steel-clad door just enough for you to pop your head outside.

And sure enough, there he was.

"Ash," you say again, a bit louder this time, stepping over the rock timidly and snaking your way through the gap.

He was leaned against a lamppost that lit up the parking lot, with tense shoulders and his brow furrowed. He stared off into the abyss, taking a pull from his joint.

You felt as though you were walking on eggshells, trying your hardest not to go into panic mode and start screaming your own head off.

Or, apologizing profusely for something that you may or may not have done.

"Baby?" you try your hand at sweetly grabbing his attention, one last time.

"What?"

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine."

He ashes his joint, before taking another pull, the veins in his neck practically popping through his skin. You take a step closer, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Are you sure?"

He blows out smoke through the side of his lips, "Yes."

"Don’t lie to me. You’ve been acting like such a brat all night," You warn him, finding the stern, coldness in your voice, similar to the one he’s been firing off at you and the guys since he stepped off stage.

There’s a brief moment of tension in the air, lingering lowly above your head. You hold your breath for a moment, before Ashton is tapping his joint with his eyes glued to his shoes.

He hadn’t looked up at you. At least, not yet.

"If you don’t want me acting like a brat, then don’t call me a fucking liar." He mumbles to the ground, an angry baritone rumbling through his voice.

"I didn’t call you a liar. I just said, don’t lie…" you drop your hands to your side, taking another step towards him.

"…Now tell me what’s wrong with you before I smack that joint right out of your fuckin’ hand."

Your threat brings Ashton to lock eyes with you. You’re finally able to get a good look at the angry crimson hue that surrounded him; with shaky pupils and a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead.

"You really wanna know what’s wrong with me, Peanut?" He mocks the endearing nickname like poison rolling off of his tongue.

"Well, I—" You stutter, taken aback by his serious tone. He then chuckles dryly, lifting the joint and resting his hand on his chin.

"You really have no idea, do you?"

"Obviously not, asshole." You hated to sound so brash, but you were still residually upset by his ignorance.

He takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Only to say the stupidest thing you had ever heard in your life.

"You think I enjoyed watching you parade around onstage tonight— all smiley and giggly— singing about some girl you fucked one time? A time so memorable that you went off and wrote a goddamn rock ballad about?!"

Your eyes widen in dismay.

The rumors were true, you thought, Ashton had finally lost it.

"Oh my god— you’re joking… You’re joking, aren’t you?" Your face melts into pure, sadistic amusement. But Ashton’s face hadn’t faltered.

"Do I look like I’m joking?" He ask the question seriously.

"You cannot be serious, Ash. You’re telling me that you’ve been moping around all night because of a fucking song I wrote eight years ago?! Meanwhile you were the one who suggested putting it on the fuckin’ dice!"

He finally finishes his joint, flicking the roach to the ground and stomping it out with the toe of his boot.

"If I had known you’d perform it like she was actually there on that stage fucking you, I probably wouldn’t have suggested it at all."

A shaky chuckle flies past your lips. "God, you are such a baby! I cannot believe that you’d stomp around and make such a fuss over this! You’re really serious right now, Ash? Like, really?"

"As serious as a goddamn heart attack, Y/N."

The only emotion you could process at the moment was anger. You were completely baffled by his behavior, unable to muster up even a sentence that would aid in your argument.

"…What’s mine is mine, baby. It’s as simple as that. Can’t blame me for gettin’ a little jealous sometimes." His tone of voice had softened, significantly.

Knowing him well enough by now, after almost four years together, you had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to hold a grudge.

And, of course, you were right. As always.

"Ash, it’s been eight years. You’re gonna have to get over it eventually."

"Well— what if I don’t want to get over it?" He blurts, still stern.

Before you reply, you step even closer to him. Close enough to feel the sizzling hot anger radiating off of the both of your bodies and creating a spark between them.

You hated when he was angry. He hated when you were angry.

But something about that anger made your stomach twist in knots. In the best possible way.

You decided to test your luck. To push his buttons. Get under his skin, a bit.

"Then I’d say you’re being a brat. A whiny, fucking brat."

Ashton chuckles, rather dryly, before lifting himself from his slouched position resting on the lamppost. He towers over you, straightening his posture to show off his much larger frame.

"Takes one to know one, sweetheart."

You could sense the obvious switch in dynamic of this situation. Now clouded with sexual frustration, as opposed to just the regular kind of frustration.

You cross your arms over your chest, swallowing back the newly formed lump in your throat. "You don’t scare me, y’know."

All he does is shrug.

"Don’t think I need to scare ya’ to make you scream. Thought we’ve been over this."

That comment only riled you up more, but you tried to hide it beneath a playful glare, "Is that a threat, Ashton?"

"No no no, baby— not at all…"

He shakes his head, slight sarcasm falling over his tone before he’s snaking his arms around your waist, digging the tips of his fingers into your back.

"…It’s a fuckin’ promise."

The speed in which his lips found yours seemed almost impossible. From the way he had gone from blatantly ignoring your existence, to feeling you up like you were the last thing he’d ever touch.

"You’re mine. Y’know that, right?" He presses you against his torso, clasping his broad hands at the small of your back.

"Mmmmhmm," You sigh into his kiss, as he roughly sinks his teeth into your bottom lip.

He then takes one of your thighs in a handful, lifting it up to rest it gently on his hip.

In the midst of the commotion, you realize that you were still dressed completely in your stage clothes. Clad in an oversized, striped sweater that was stolen right from Michael’s closet, and a short black tennis skirt.

You were fully aware of just how short your skirt was. And to be totally honest with yourself, you loved wearing it.

You loved the way it floated around you as you danced, the way it complimented your platform boots and knee high socks…

But you also loved the absolute chokehold it had on your boyfriend.

You catch your breath as Ashton pulls away from your heated kiss; only for a moment. To admire you, as his hand slowly snakes its’ way up your skirt to grip your bare asscheek.

"This ass," he grunts, digging his fingers into your flesh, "is mine."

"Mhm." You nod again. Affirmative. Your bottom lip was still trapped between your teeth with helpless, puppy dog eyes.

"This face?" He removes his other hand from your back to cup your cheek, "This gorgeous gorgeous face? Is mine. All fuckin’ mine. Ya’ hear me?"

You nod at him, trying to ignore his hand creeping towards the hemline of your panties.

"Need ‘ya to use those words, beautiful. Like the ones you used to write your song, yeah?"

One thing about Ashton was that he never failed to piss you off— but he was also damn good at turning you on.

"…Wanna hear one last bit of your poetry before the only word you’re able to say is my fuckin’ name."

"Ash—" You go to speak, but your mouth clamps shut as he traces your inner thigh with his fingertips.

"Go ahead, Y/N, tell me. Tell me who’s really ‘all you ever think about.’"

His head dips down to your neck to leave a trail of wet kisses, all the way to the base of your collarbone. Your hand finds his hair, tugging at the roots gently with each gentle kiss.

"You. You’re all I ever think about… All I’ve ever wanted—"

Your breath hitches as his teeth bite into your skin, his hand finding its way back to the outside of your thigh to anchor your body against him.

"—All I’ve ever needed."

In a swift motion, Ashton is dropping your leg from his hip, bringing you to teeter on your shaky legs and look at him with desperate eyes.

His head pops up from your neck, pupils wavering and twinkling with lust.

And suddenly, your mind is clouded. All of the things you’ve ever needed in a person was right at your fingertips. Any syllable of a song lyric, any chorus of every single song you’ve ever written.

It was him.

"You wanna’ write songs about getting fucked ‘till you can’t speak, sweetheart?"

At this point, you were too needy to care about whatever words flew past your lips. "Yes, Ashton. Please—"

His eyes darken, a sultry smile climbing across his cheeks for the first time all night.

"Allow me to provide you with some inspiration, then."

In a second, he’s lifting you up by the back of your legs, tossing your body effortlessly over his shoulder. You let out a laugh, slapping his back, his arms, anything you could get your hands on.

"Hey! What the fuck—"

Your ass is fully exposed to the parking lot around you, as Ashton begins to walk. You couldn’t see much, but the most you knew was the direction of your shared tour bus.

He leans his head over to you, whispering a little something in your ear that sent chills down your spine.

"You wanna make music with me, baby? I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ write about…"

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

[dreamwritersworld]

All too well. Part 2. (Miles Morales x reader)

Im so sorry for posting this late, I’ve just been extremely busy! I hope your all doing well! Please tell me you understand the references this is so Taylor swift coded! 😭💓

I allowed my body to slip into the portal and i allowed myself to slip from the buildings, the ending of it all felt like pure bliss…a new world.

Then I followed the webs that I saw slinging around quickly and excitement grew when I saw other Spider-Man’s. Yes, when seeing Gwen and Miles it hurt but the i ignored it because all I realized was that there was a community full of people just like me…so I listened to introductions and spoke.

“I’m Y/n!”

Bewilderment was written all over Miles and Gwen once I came forward and introduced myself

“What?! Y/n? Wha-what are you doing here?”

Slight panic and frustration was visible in his voice.

“I saw the portal and I walked in, anyone could’ve. You’ve guys got to be safe-“

Our conversation was interrupted, having to jump into fighting once again, falling into our hectic intoxicating lives.

The entire time after I wanted nothing more but to cry, I wanted to go back home..something felt so wrong. Within that walk I couldn’t help but feel sick to my stomach, it felt like in a simple moment I’d lose it all. Everything felt so loud my mind felt like it was closing in and suddenly it stopped when I felt him near me.

“Y/n you shouldn’t have came, this isn’t for you.”

Hearing miles say those words after everything I’ve done for him infuriated me. Why is this side of spiderman activities for him ok but not fine for me. I had no words so I just scuffed.

“I’m serious Y/n. You can’t ignore me.”

I should’ve embarrassed him, really, I should’ve…but I just couldn’t. So I settled on speaking back what I wanted so dearly to say.

“You do not get to say that. I’ve dealt with this as long as you and I’ve fought lots if not more than you. Since you were too busy with gwe-“

“Shut-, just shh.”

The walked away immediately and i showed him frustration and shame it was all from witnessing the boy I loved dismiss me once again. There was a clear castle of people he pretended to care about and I was at the top of his podium. Our once lovely relationship was a beautiful tragic love affair.

Distance.

Timing.

Breakdown.

Fighting.

Silence.

Hobie and Gwen could see it all no matter how silent the pair thought they were. All of those emotions made everyone sink into a infuriated fusion.

Meeting Miguel and seeing how he acted towards miles made me uncomfortable. Any version of miles getting saddened would cause me discomfort, he would always be the first boy I loved and I couldn’t help but always feel guilty.

Miguel’s had spoke aggressively to him clearly frustrated about the timeline, I was silent enough to not make a peep or even blink an eye..yet he still noticed me.

“What-what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be back home. This is changing everything now. I can’t believe you two! Seriously…”

He kept on going, screaming angrily and his voice became disoriented once I began panicking internally. I had handled being spider women well, but something about this trip nauseated my entire system. I brought myself back once I heard Miles talk about our canon events.

“My parents are going to die? And you expect me to what? Be ok with that?”

Rio was would be my canon event. Jeff would be miles.

Regardless of all the pain and hurt I felt I’d stick beside Miles because Rio and Jeff raised me from a far, they meant the world.

“We need to save them. Are you crazy?-“

Miguel immediately cut me off trapping miles and I, while everyone surrounded us.

“N-No you can’t do this! Please! You have to help us!”

I was furious and adrenaline rushed through my body i placed my hand on the wall surrounding us, the same time Miles placed his… and we escaped.

The entire time my heart pumped never once getting tired of running away from thousands of Spider-Man’s, my determination kept me aligned.

“…nah imma make my own story.”

I took another leap through a portal following panicking Miles. To be fair, he never exactly handled the role spiderman too well. With all the pressure and expectations he always leaned towards me until he had Gwen..in every story of ours I guided him.

His breathing was frantic and he struggled to find the words to express himself.

“Miles..”

His mind was scrambling everywhere and all he could do was look at her eyes and mouth moving speaking calming words. Y/n couldn’t see it but Miles saw her as the archer. She could be in fights but she was always far enough so she wasn’t the one to get hurt at first. It was the only reason Y/n remained level headed fighting against bad guys…going against him. She never let him see her break down the way she did that day.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m so so-sorry”

His statement truly took Y/n by surprise as tears fell from his eyes and his panicked breathing tried slowing down..she allowed him to finish.

“If this is our last chance being together, if anything goes wrong saving them..I’m sorry for being so mean to you. You’re too sweet for me to lie. You always deserved more.”

Those familiar words sounded warm coming from him. Rio had only spoken them a day prior when she was heartbroken…

“We’ll make it out. We just need to save them and get back to our normal lives, no kiddy stuff anymore.”

As soon as she helped him get up and she turned away tears fell down from y/n’s face like ricochet’s. This was the final moment she was hanging up her childhood, maybe they had ruined they’re timeline..but it’ll all be fixed eventually, they just needed to grow up…

Tag list: @justleila @tati-the-fangirl @kxllanxtdoor @abbersreads @abislays123 @not-aya @usernamepasswordsstuff @moralesluvrr @inluvwithneteyam @twinklethoughts klenotastar @ilystarz @vodoo-heart @papichulo120627 @mashiromochi @frogsandmoss @laylasbunbunny @bigdikzaddy @catynss @venusluvslove @sxributr @anikaluv @yukinaabutlazy @hxidyg @szde8-blog @avatar4life @sgmianne @melaaaara @key-zee @isabelcor3

[blueberryinko]

The King’s Berry Chapter One

King Samuel had been crowned two years ago now and after his coronation, his rule had swiftly turned Hearth into a city of prosperity, its circular walls protecting its people, and he had his own protector in the form of Astra.

Astra had been his best friend growing up, and as the two of them sparred she’d found herself growing into his closest knight and right-hand. She knew it wasn’t proper to make advances but she had hopes, though they were hidden to him. The royal courts wanted him to marry noble and keep the bloodline pure, who was she to get in the way of that.

Even so as he entered the courtyard as she sparred with her young squire he grinned as she pinned him again. “Marcus, come on!” She growled to the teen in front of her. “Sorry Astra, I timed it wrong!”

“You’re getting better though.” Samuel pointed out as he stepped onto the dirt. “Little further and you’ll have it all well in hand. Perhaps you’ll even succeed your mistress.” He unsheathed his own sword as Samuel stood back.

“But my King, I keep losing my footing, how am I ever to be on the same level?” Samuel grinned as Astra held up her sword. “Like this.”

He leapt and with a first strike she ducked under his blade. He gasped as an elbow made contact with his gut, smacking it out of the way before landing a smack with the back of his hand. She blocked and he sidestepped her next swipe. Adrenaline coursed in his veins as they danced around each other, Astra’s sky blue tunic blowing in the wind. Ready…

She growled as she swiped and he dodged, kicking her feet out from under her and quickly pinning her down with his knee. “Thing about your mistress Marcus, is that she’s hotheaded.” He chuckled as she huffed, helping her up. “Only because it’s you.” She grumped.

The trio headed out into the market and as Marcus ran ahead Astra grinned. “He’s like a son to me.” She murmured. He could see it and he imagined her pregnant for what seemed like the hundredth time since his love for her began. “Please Astra, we’re young, do not remind me.”

“The best get started young,” She reminded him. He groaned, remembering how when they were kids he’d always begged her to have babies with him. “I was but thirteen Astra, Gods give me strength.” His cheeks were red with embarrassment, only she could tease him like that.

They wandered further, Samuel’s eyes fixed on Astra like it was the last time he’d ever see her, how she played with the village children, and how she cared for then. Eventually a familiar little girl ran up to them, looking worried. “Astra! Astra! Mummy’s having the babies!”

“Vernestra give me strength!” Astra swore, and the two of them broke into a sprint. She scooped up her youngest sister and they ran together towards their mother’s, Samuel hot on their paces.

Astra’s mother was a sorceress blessed with the gift of eternal youth, and she’d used that youth building the biggest family in all of Hearth, a goal which had meant Astra was never alone much as a child.

The cabin at the edge of the woods was their home, also home to a pocket dimension Astra’s mother had created for all the space they’d ever need. Astra rushed in and saw her mother, looking no older than thirty waddling naked around the house.

“Hey Mama.” Samuel wasn’t sure he was allowed to be witnessing this, but when Aurora noticed him he beckoned them both in. “My Lord, Astra, you didn’t have to.” She was calm as anything, swaying her hips to the rhythm of her contractions.

“Well where is Father then?” Astra reasoned. She loved her papa but he had the oddest penchant for popping off at the most important times. “He got called away for another bounty, we need the money.” Aurora replied sternly.

“We have more than double that from your transfer business!” Aurora also would transfer pregnancies from other women in the village when they were unwanted or when they needed a break. It paid generously, and it was so lucrative it allowed her to sell milk at copious amounts. It was a look into how fertile Astra could be, and the thought got Sam hard, as much as he tried to hide it.

They helped her waddle towards the bathroom where the pool waited. “How dilated are you?” Astra asked softly.

“About two centimetres,” Aurora murmured, Sam getting to work. They’d borne witness to so many of her births they were used to it now, and they separated her thighs together. “Getting there Aurora, just feel it out.”

She dilated quick after that and it was noon by the time she fully opened up.

“Oh, oh!” She groaned, looking every bit the picture of peak maternal prowess.

“I need up.” She said, and Sam and Astra lifted her so she could squat. She bore down, Astra observing as her mother seemed to harness a power above all, totally calm. She would never admit it aloud but Astra felt intensely jealous, she wanted that experience too. And as Aurora laboured, she watched as Sam began to pinch her mother’s nipples.

“Old midwives’ tale.” He explained to Aurora, who moaned at his touch. “D-don’t stop!” She begged. Astra watched, rapt attention solely focused on them, Aurora’s hips gyrating as the first of the twins slid into place. “There we go, that’s it.” Sam beckoned gently, cupping her flushed labia.

Astra dove to attention and quickly pulled her mother’s thigh back further.

“Gonna press on your belly now Mama.” She murmured, pressing down gently and ignoring the twist in her stomach when Aurora crowned, a loud moan drawn from the back of her throat. “No cord, we’re good!” Sam urged Aurora, who bore down again.

Her newest baby brother slid right out after that, and as Astra held him to Aurora’s breast to nurse, she prepped for the next baby.

“Okay Mama, one more.” She was honestly surprised Aurora wasn’t having more, but she guessed it was a blessing of sorts given the huge quantity her family was made up of.

Her baby sister came around late noon when her papa returned. “Oh my Gods! I came as soon as I could,” He apologised to his wife, the orc man leaning down to his shorter wife. “You were working, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sam and Astra left them to talk and Astra stared wistfully at the scene from behind the door. “I want that..” She murmured, though she didn’t know whether it was to Sam or herself. Her heart hurt.

He was about to reply when a sender rushed into the courtyard. “The Jenin are attacking! They’ve burned the eastern wheat field!” Oh, gods, that was urgent. Astra and Samuel only had to glance at one another before they were racing to the stables.

“That was this season’s grain harvest, we’re already down from last winter!” She couldn’t count how many would suffer because of one act, they had to protect their people.

She would have made a fine queen, Samuel thought, but his thoughts were focused on the attackers. “We ride together full wave. Intimidation to see if they’ll run. Have the garrisons pincer them!” She wove an intricate pattern with her arms, a runic pattern igniting and flying up into the air, dissipating with her message.

They rode towards the Heatherwood fields and the plume of smoke that rose up from them nearly smothered the skies. Ash clung to their tunics and as Astra jumped from her horse, the knights rushed along at her charge. “Just like old times!” Sam laughed as they met the fray with a clash.

“What, before your father?” She giggled, ducking under a swipe, countering with her own blows and severing the opponent’s throat, dancing around Samuel’s blade as he struck a foreman.

“Exactly like dear old Dad!” He crowed, and neither of them noticed the hooded figure racing through the crowd until it was too late.

THUNK!

“AAAGH!”

Samuel whipped around, a blue dart sticking out of Astra’s neck. “Astra!” He caught her fall, legs going faint as a fever danced across her body like the fires of Hell itself. “Sam, Sam, blueberry-!”

Her skin was turning blue. She was turning honest to gods blue and Samuel was panicking. “Marcus!”

Marcus ran up and saw her state immediately. “We have to get her out of here!” Samuel urged. “I have one arm you have the other.” Marcus agreed. Together they hauled her up, watching as the blue ran down her veins, through her face, down into the rest of her body.

She was entirely blue when her belly gurgled, and she started filling up.

“Sam!” She moaned, standing up straight. As she did so, her boys finally noticed the state of her belly. “Astra, you’re blowing up like a pair of bellows!” Sam remembered this from when they were young. An old family allergy that had been passed down to her had caused her once to blow up like this, they’d been eleven when it happened and she’d damn near burst.

“We need to get her back to the city!” The keep would do for now, the fight was almost over, the knights had slaughtered the invaders easily. It had been almost laughable, but Sam was fully focused on his lover.

“Sam, Sam, if I pop, I love you!” Astra whimpered, her belly now looking as if she’d swallowed a whole buffet, stuffed so full it broke the belt she had on, the domed underside of her belly paunching out further and further every moment.

“You’re not gonna pop, you’re gonna be fine.”

Sam didn’t want to believe the alternative, watching as her tunic rode up further and further. She gets fat, and if it weren’t so dangerous Sam would be sporting the biggest erection known to the city’s people at that moment.

“I-I love you more than words can say.” He admitted after a moment. Marcus, while worried for his adoptive mother-figure, felt his heart swoop, they’d finally admitted it after a whole damn near lifetime of dancing around it.

If she didn’t pop, Astra was going to allow him to bend her over and fuck her like there was no tomorrow.

She was rotund now. The seams on her tunic had become so wide her breasts broke through the fabric, unconfined by any bra or underwear she could get on her that morning, she was topless. Her nipples were a deep violet and leaking, thighs so fat they were jiggling even as they raced up towards the keep.

“Let us in, she’s been poisoned!” Samuel ordered, the guards letting them through-

“Oof!”

She was stuck! She was stuck in the doors! “Samuel!” She begged.

“Oh, lords.” Samuel swore, and he and Marcus grabbed her hands. “Pull, man, pull!” He ordered. She popped through the frame with a loud POP, and stumbled, almost falling onto her belly if not for the boys steadying her.

“Come on, come on, to the quarters, we’ll figure this out.” He wanted her to be comfortable, somewhere familiar, maybe it would help. They reached the keep quarters and they bundled her in unceremoniously.

She waggled vestigial limbs and waddled on the spot, crotch brushing the ground. “I-I think I’m slowing!” She gasped, hopeful. Her pants burst in a smatter of fabric and sewn shrapnel, her womanly nature on full display if not for the panties she wore, unflattering on her now positively multi-hundred pound sphericality.

“Marcus… leave us.” She decided. “Go and bathe little man.” He left the room once he was sure she was safe, and as her limbs were pulled into the divots her newly fattened, fruited body had made for her, her swelling slowed to a complete stop, a fat blueberry knight as wide as she was tall. They had a spy in their midst.

“Sam?” She was really about to do this. “Love of my eternity, I want you to fuck me, and I don’t want to leave this room until I’m pregnant.”

Samuel approached, his hands holding her new form reverently, one poke shattering her panties, bursting from her body in a loud-

CRACK!

BANG!

Leaving her positively, beautifully naked. Samuel saw her diameter quake, shuddering with need. “You’re beautiful.” He growled, rubbing her belly. Almost a total orb if not for her breasts, and the wonderful arse she sported, his cock brushed her belly. “Gonna look even better carrying my babies.”

“Anh-Sam!” She gasped, feeling his hands knead her gut. Her nethers were wet, slick with juice and want, she knew he was imagining her pregnant, a turgid gut full of his babies leaving her heavy and damn near immobile. “You’re gonna make me so big.” She whimpered.

“So big,” He agreed. “Hands on your belly, your breasts giving our children’s milk to the world like a dairy cow, following in your mother’s footsteps.” She squeaked as he started gently tipping her onto her back. “Sam, Sam, Sam!”

“That gets you love? Knowing no matter how hard you fought you’d always end up like this? Swollen and turgid, belonging to me and me alone?” Another gush from below splattered his naked thighs and he grinned. “Good girl.”

“H-ah!” Her feet kicked as his cock teased her entrance. He climbed atop her hemisphere and felt his cock slide into her, starting to buck his hips. “You feel that honey? You feel me spearing you, seeding you?”

“I feel you, I feel you!” She felt his cock swell inside her, pressing up against her cervix. Her clit throbbed and she mewed, gasped, begged, anything she could think of. “Please Samuel, make me yours, break my cunt like a cat in heat!”

“Oh I will. You won’t be able to resist me, you’ll grow so fat not even juicing you could shrink you.” She was going to be rolled no matter what, he intended for that, and the sooner she agreed the better. “I’m gonna breed so well, gonna be so pregnant!” She was going to make sure every babe she carried for him was as strong as she could make the,, cramming her womb, stuffing her cunt every time she crowned.

Astra felt him pounding her quicker. “Every baby you birth tells me how much you love me, tells me how devoted you are to me,” He growls into her belly, slapping it rough, enough to leave a purple bruise, her moans now so erratic she couldn’t keep track of all the noise inside of her.

Her mind was so jumbled she was having trouble keeping coherent. “Sam, Sammie- Sammmy- Sam!” She babbled endlessly, his cock spearing her so hard she screamed, gushing juice around his mast as he teased her sex.

He was building up to his climax but he was forming a plan. “Don’t cum.” He ordered her. “Don’t cum, and don’t until I’ve loaded you up with so much cum I have to plug you.”

She gasps, she’d burst! But she keeps quiet, her mind slowly becoming more and more cock-drunk as cum and juice slosh, churn and heave inside her. He rode faster as his cock twitched, then GUSH!

Ropes of cum spewed into her waiting womb, past her cervix and bloating her womb totally taut, her wailing as her mind broke music to his ears. She was taking him so well, her walls clenching around him as he pumped her past her limits.

“Don’t cum!” He reminds her, slapping her belly again. She struggles and whimpers as her skin becomes stretched, creaking and groaning. Her belly is quite literally shuddering but she refuses to let even a drop back out of her puffy labia.

“Who’s a good girl?” He asks.

“Me?” She questions.

“I ask again, who’s a good girl?”

“I am!” Astra cried.

“Who’s a bloated berry cow?” He asked.

“Me, me, me!”

“Now cum, cow!”

“ANNNNAAAAAAHHH!” A deluge of sticky juice pulsed from her sex as she finally came, wailing and screaming over the frankly ridiculous amount staining the keep’s wood floors. He’d get someone to replace those tomorrow.

For now he was focused on his berried lover. “L-love.. I-I don’t think I’m a knight anymore..” She sniffled. Samuel rolled her upright and he rubbed her belly gently. “I know, I know my love, but you’re something better now. I’m going to make you a collar of the finest gold and make you my wife. I don’t care what the courts say.”

Astra gasped, tears brimming up. “O-oh Sammie…” She bawled as he hugged her. “It’s alright, you’re okay, you’re alright.” Maybe she couldn’t be a knight anymore. A part of her she’d adored had been ripped away from her so suddenly, but now she had different ideas, and she had a new life now.

“I’m gonna be okay?”

“You’re gonna be just fine.” He told her firmly.

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 54

Barry, Rafe, and Jessie pulled up back to Taneyhill right before they lost all daylight. Rafe had his gun securely against Barry's head in the backseat while his wife drove. No words were said the whole way there, yet Rafe and Jessie understood the assignment. Oddly enough, high tension situations were always where they thrived, both somehow always coming together. They got out of the truck and Jessie was suddenly grateful she had her leather jacket on, as she felt a sudden chill across her face from the night air.

Jessie walked closely behind the two men, making sure to kick the 'For Sale' sign right out of the ground. Once they made it to the front door, Jessie unlocked it. She didn't dare to turn on any lights, she knew Barry didn't need any crystal clear views of the house in case he tried to escape.

"You not even gonna give me a tour?" Barry sassed with a slight laugh. He flinched at how quickly Jessie turned her back around to face him, now uncomfortably close to his face. He could see her features illuminated by the moonlight, being sure to drink in her angry eyes and gritted teeth.

"The only reason you're not knocked out cold is because we don't want to carry you. But if you say one more word I won't hesitate to lay your ass out. Got it?"

Barry didn't have a response, at least not one with words. But his smirk was clearly visible. Jessie was disgusted. She rolled her eyes and scoffed as she continued walking to what would be the basement. The dark room was exactly how one would expect. It was the room Ward would occasionally use to "negotiate" with difficult clients. Rafe was only fourteen when he got a first look at what that basement was really used for. And now suddenly he was more than happy to "negotiate".

Just like out of a movie, Barry was put into a single metal chair in the middle of the concrete room, but not without some struggle of course. Regardless, Barry's attempts were no match for Rafe. Furthermore, Jessie would've put a hole in his head if he ever wiggled out of her husband's firm grasp. Rafe put his ex drug dealer firmly in the chair.

"Jessie, hold him."

With that, Jessie took over once Rafe planted Barry's wrists firmly in the restraints on the chair. If Jessie didn't know any better she'd say it was custom made just for "negotiations." Although, she wasn't too phased by it considering some nights in Manhattan were spent just like this, with Tom and Maci by her side. The adrenaline rush she was currently feeling was hard to forget, for her it was like riding a bike. She stared into Barry's soul as she caught her husband grabbing the chains above his head and bringing them down to click in place on the metal restraints. The look of pure fear and regret in Barry's eyes got Jessie's heart racing. She hated to admit it, but she loved the feeling of power. It was all too familiar.

Once Rafe was done they both stepped back and admired the man in front of them, sweating either from nerves or from the single bright light shining on him. He breathed quick, shallow breaths. Jessie was very well versed in reading the signs of people in stressful situations just like these. Maci and Tom took her already natural ability to read people and turned it into a skill that would take her far in the Manhattan Mayhem. She had a unique talent for being able to tell when people were about to crack or when they were bluffing... or when they were about to pass out or even die. Rafe had seen his fair share of negotiations as well, but he was more so the braun of this operation whereas Jessie was the brains. Rafe never missed an opportunity to think with his fists, and Jessie never missed an opportunity to play games with the mind.

"Can I please..." Barry begged through labored breaths and restless limbs. "... have... a cigarette." Barry finally choked out as he swallowed hard. Jessie figured it was to keep himself from throwing up. She had seen a good deal of people puke from the stress, and she could tell he was nearly there. That was the only reason she was about to grant his request.

Rafe and Jessie looked at each other with hard glances and then back at Barry with balled fists. Jessie inhaled deeply and reached in Barry's right pocket of his khaki cargo shorts.

"Considering you look like you're about to puke..." Jessie said in a low, intimidating tone as she slid a Marlboro out of the package and ran it through her fingers slyly. "I'll allow it."

Jessie stuck the cigarette in between Barry's lips. She dug around her leather jacket pockets and eventually found the zippo she never seemed to get rid of. Rafe watched intently as she stuck the flame out just enough for Barry to lean forward and light the Marlboro between his teeth. One hit was enough to calm Barry down just enough to get cocky all over again, albeit not by much.

"So when am I gonna get my money." He asked with narrows eyes and an annoyed expression.

Jessie just laughed and looked up at her husband, who also now shared the same amused expression.

"You really haven't figured it out by now?" Rafe asked. Barry just looked confused. Jessie had so much to say about Barry's clear lack of intelligence and inability to read the room. However, she decided to keep it to herself in the name of tactical intimidation. She just clicked her tongue and laughed.

"You're not getting any money." Jessie simply stated with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders. By now she made her hands comfortable in her jacket pockets, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Barry's eyes went wide as he realized the jig was up. He knew he shouldn't have trusted them.

"You bastards, this is horseshit!" Barry yelled as he leaned in closer. It was obviously ineffective considering his wrists were still secure to the chair.

"Look, if you're gonna yell we're gonna leave." Jessie replied calmly, still not feeling the need to remove her hands from her jacket.

"You bitch, I knew I-"

Barry was cut off by a swift hand to his cheek, but surprisingly, it wasn't Rafe's. Jessie beat him to the punch, literally. She slapped Barry square across his left cheek, undoubtedly catching him off guard. He didn't manage to finish the sentence, instead he just looked at his former customers as if to say "really?"

"Let's go, Rafe."

Jessie slowly turned around, making sure to bore her eyes into Barry once more before turning for the door and walking away, making sure every click of her boots were heard on blood stained concrete. Rafe did the same as he followed behind her.

"Walk him like a dog, sis." Barry joked, just having to have the final word as the steel door shut, leaving Barry with nothing but an echo.

Jessie and Rafe both stopped right outside the door, leaning against it after it closed. They both knew Barry couldn't hear them, so they didn't mind.

"What the hell are we gonna do?" Rafe asked, clearly annoyed.

"Whatever we do, we can't lose our heads. Look, I know you and I would much rather be on that plane with Charley but we've gotta take care of things here, alright?" Jessie tried to comfort Rafe, as she could see in his eyes that his mind was elsewhere. He was torn to say the least. He wanted nothing more than to hop on the next plane to be with his daughter, yet he couldn't bear the thought of leaving this unfinished, or even worse, leaving his wife to deal with it. He knew she was more than capable, but they needed to do this together.

"Rafe." Jessie snapped her husband out of his racing thoughts. He physically shook his head and brought his eyes back into focus on her face.

"Huh, oh yeah, right."

Jessie wasn't so convinced that Rafe was as dialed in as she needed him to be. He seemed frazzled, much like he used to look years ago. She didn't like the look. She just studied his features a little more, looking for any sign of an attitude adjustment. She didn't find one.

"Let's go upstairs." Jessie suggested with a tone of hesitancy.

"Jessie, no... we can't... somebody's gotta watch him." Rafe retaliated. Jessie couldn't believe he actually thought tactically for a moment considering how out of touch he seemed just moments ago.

"Rafe, you know that room better than I do... has anyone ever escaped?"

Rafe didn't have a response to that. Despite Jessie never having seen that room before, she knew there was no way Barry was getting out of the thick chains and the bolted steel door. Furthermore, Rafe had never known anyone to make it out of that room... alive. Jessie took his silence as understanding and simply kept walking, expecting Rafe to follow. They both walked up the concrete stairs, eventually making their way to the long corridor on the main floor of the mansion. The two of them stopped in the hallway awkwardly, each of them deciding to throw themselves along the wall and kick their heads back, breathing a deep sigh to attempt to relieve some tension. They faced opposite of each other, and Jessie was the first to open her eyes. She noticed Rafe's eyes were closed and his head could've sunk into the wall with how heavily he was relying on it to hold him up. He looked like he wanted to collapse from the stress. He swallowed the lump in his throat, still not managing to open his eyes. Jessie couldn't help but notice the veins popping out of Rafe's arms and hands just a little more as he fiddled with his fingers.

"You're hot when you're stressed." Jessie admitted with a goofy grin. Rafe finally opened his eyes at those words, looking across the small hall at his wife, who didn't seem to have a care in the world. He simply shook his head with the small laugh he could muster.

"You're something else." Rafe admitted in a low tone, whether it was because he was still thinking deeply or he was turned on, Jessie couldn't pinpoint just yet. She kicked herself off of the wall and flung herself onto her husband. Despite not being in the mood, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist, immediately finding the back pockets of her jeans and sticking his hands in them. Jessie played with the collar of his shirt, finding it buttoned up too much for her liking. She didn't exchange any words, instead, she looked him up and down and undid one button. She patted his chest once she was satisfied and brought her hands up to his face, rubbing over his cheeks gently with her thumbs. Rafe melted into the touch as best he could, but Jessie could tell he wasn't completely relaxed. Knowing he needed more, she leaned in for a slow, passionate kiss that was sure to distract him. That it did, but only for a moment. Rafe was just about to fall further when he was pulled back into his racing thoughts. Jessie was so good at reading Rafe she could feel the difference without him even murmuring against her lips or moving his body a certain way. She huffed and leaned away, clearly annoyed.

"You need to calm down." She insisted, not in a rough way, just in a way that showed genuine concern. Rafe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his other hand finding his own front pocket.

"I know, Jess... I just... can't."

Jessie knew what she needed to do.

"Come with me."

With that, Rafe took Jessie's soft hand as she guided him through the dark hallway and into one of the rooms, a room that Rafe knew too well. Jessie turned the knob on the light switch to reveal a dimly lit office... Ward's office, which was adorned with books the man probably never read and pristine paintings he probably never appreciated.

Jessie sat her husband down behind the cherry oak desk situated on the far side of the hollow room. Despite the leather chair being one of the most luxurious pieces of furniture in the house, Rafe couldn't help but feel like he was sitting on pins and needles. He was so anxious he couldn't stand himself... and his wife was growing tired of him too. She gave him a look of reassurance as she slowly backed away and slunk over to the glass cabinet that housed the most expensive liquor she'd ever seen. Despite the extensive collection of bourbons and tequilas and everything in between, she opted for the number 7 whiskey at the very back of the cabinet. Ward was ashamed to like such "cheap" liquor, but he couldn't help that it was one of his favorites. Jessie remembered that from one of their many nights spent smoking on Rafe's balcony. She knew Rafe had the same taste for cheap whiskey.

Jessie grabbed two glasses from the same cabinet and began to pour the whiskey achingly slow. Rafe took in every detail, to the half smile on his wife's face as she poured to the grip she had on the bottle.

"You remember when we snuck in here and drank from your dad's cabinet?" Jessie asked, not even bothering to look up.

"How could I not? I didn't think I would ever be high enough to cross that line but of course you made it happen." Rafe replied with a content smile on his face. He licked his lips in thought as he became more relaxed in the chair thinking of the memory.

"I always get what I want." Jessie only half joked as she closed the bottle and set it on the desk. She looked at Rafe who now had a knowing smile on his face as he swiveled slightly in the chair with his arms draped lazily on the sides.

"Yes you do." Rafe responded. Jessie took the glasses in each hand and made herself comfortable on Rafe's lap. She handed him a glass as she took a drink for herself. He swished the copper colored drink around and looked up at Jessie with a curious look.

"What're we doing?" He said barely above a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.

"We're getting you lose." Jessie simply stated as she took another drink. It always amazed Rafe how she never grimaced at hard liquor. It always kinda concerned him too.

"For what?"

"For you to either admit to me what's on your mind or for you to forget it enough to go back downstairs and do what we gotta do."

Rafe just sighed and looked back down at the drink. He finally decided to cave in as he downed the glass and set it back down on the desk. Not what Jessie expected, but she didn't complain.

"Last time we did this... you and I both messed up..."

"What do you mean?" Jessie asked, now looking directly into Rafe's eyes, genuinely curious as to what he meant. Rafe just looked annoyed. He looked around the room and rubbed his face.

"Jessie you..." He sighed, not completely sure how to word his sentence. "When I killed Ward, I lost my mind... and when you killed Limbrey and Rose... you lose yours too."

"Oh come on Rafe I did not-"

"Yes, you did Jessie. You and I may have lost them in completely different ways but... you were different after that... and so was I."

"And?"

Rafe didn't know what to say to that. Did she really not know that they had changed? She knew... she just didn't care.

"So what if we're different, Rafe? Maybe we're just now two people who are willing to do whatever the hell we have to do to keep our daughter safe? Did you even consider that? What we're doing isn't weakness... it's strength! So what if we need to drink a little or smoke a little to get through some real heavy shit? God, what happened to you? Just months ago I heard you were the toughest guy around, not giving a shit what you did or who you hurt and now..."

Jessie stopped to contemplate if she wanted to finish that sentence. She knew first hand that words could never be undone. But who was she kidding? Of course she wanted to say what was on her mind.

"... you're weak."

"I'm not weak, Jessie. I'm just trying to find a balance in who I once was and who I need to be..." Rafe replied with hurt, confusion, and anger all rolled into one.

"Fair enough, Rafe. But you and I both know we don't have time to hesitate. Hesitation gets you killed. You and I against the world, remember?"

Rafe breathed deeply as he searched Jessie's eyes. He had no clue what he was looking for. He swallowed the lump in his throat and pursed his lips, now looking more determined.

"Right." He simply replied. "So what're we gonna do?"

Jessie's rage turned into a smirk as she cupped his face.

"You said it yourself... that bastard made your daughter cry."

The memory burned in Rafe's head as if it was playing on the big screen. He couldn't get his precious Charley's cry out of his head as he was forced to not look back. Jessie could see the thought was making him tense up. She took the opportunity and ran with it as she traced her fingers along his jaw and whispered in his ear.

"Make him pay."

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Run, Human... RUN. part 6

Warnings: violence, blood, extreme physical trauma and sickness, broken bones, ambushed, trapped in a pit, starvation

"What the--" Alexa whirled to see several humans jump out of the cover of the bushes, rushing up to her in full tactical gear and bearing military rifles.

"Wait--don't--" it was all happening so fast, Alexa couldn't keep up. One second she was having a conversation with the bat-man, and the next a group of five people had appeared and taken down Tyleet.

Tyleet ended up flat on his back with someone standing over him, their rifle pointed at his head. He froze, keeping perfectly still to avoid making things worse. The person ripped off their mask and--

"VIOLET?!" Alexa cried. Violet turned her head and smiled in pure joy.

"Welcome back, friend. Although it's quite a miracle you're still alive after how long you've been gone.

"But how--"

"I was on patrol with my group when I heard your lovely voice," Violet explained, still holding Tyleet at riflepoint. Her feet were planted on the ground right above Tyleet's shoulders, one on either side of his head.

"So me and my team crept closer only to find you with one of them." Violet gestured down with the point of her rifle to Tyleet. "Glad we made it in time to save you."

"Wait--no--you misread the situation!" Alexa barked. "Stand down!"

Violet looked at her incredulously. "Are you out of your literal mind?! This is one of those rabid monsters--"

Alexa's gaze flicked to meet Tyleet's, and she saw the muted panic in his expression right before his face darkened with raw fear. The kind of fear that can be seen in any animal backed into a corner, any animal that has been trapped with no way out. The dangerous kind of fear -- a deep, primal terror that would make any creature lash out. Do anything to escape. A feverish desperation. And Alexa's blood went cold as ice.

"Tyleet, NO--!" She tried to break through his fear, but Tyleet was already in fight or flight, injured and scared, and since flight wasn't an option yet -- he chose the only one left available.

Eyes huge with panic and adrenaline, Tyleet rolled to the side and grabbed Violet's leg, suddenly sinking his fangs into her calf. She shrieked in agony and dropped the rifle as he let go, using the distraction to try and fly off. But he didn't get far.

Tyleet spread his wings, whipping around and bolting for the forest -- but a member of Violet's team opened fire, a bullet tearing through Tyleet's bat-like wing, while another tore through his lower back, a third ripping his side open. He went down with a guttural scream, and the other teammates went to secure him so he couldn't attack again.

But that was now the least of Alexa's worries. She ran and dropped down in front of Violet, who was sitting on the ground cursing as she examined the bite.

Alexa's gut twisted violently. She vividly remembered what the bat-people's venom could do. She felt tears spring to her eyes, knowing how fatal it was.

Blood leaked out of the two puncture wounds in Violet's calf from Tyleet's fangs... but the area around it wasn't turning black, wasn't dying like it would if venom was coursing through her veins.

Alexa’s chest eased with dawning realization as her eyes flicked over to where Tyleet was pinned, being held down and subdued by the other humans, even as he thrashed and howled.

Tyleet could have killed Violet... but he chose not to. He chose not to inject venom. Chose to spare her. He had bitten out of fear, of terror, it was never his intention to kill Alexa's best friend. He was hurt, and scared, and that's why he'd lashed out.

Tyleet was fighting with every ounce of strength he had, fighting with feral desperation in every movement. Violet's teammates were struggling to even get close enough to secure him, his powerful wings striking several of them hard enough to send them reeling.

Tyleet managed to lurch to his feet, but was quickly overtaken as the humans charged forward and tackled him as a group, working together. He cried out in pain and terror as one of the humans jammed a syringe square into his shoulder, injecting an unknown substance.

Then the whole team let go and backed off, letting the bird-man wear himself down on his own and waiting for the drugs to kick in. It had been a heavy sedative. They kept him surrounded with nowhere to go as he stumbled back to his feet again, trembling hard.

Tyleet's frightened eyes darted around at them all, before finally landing on Alexa, hurt and betrayal sparking in their blue depths before they started sliding out of focus.

His balance started to sway and wobble, and he staggered heavily to the side, struggling to stay upright. His wings drooped and dropped awkwardly down behind him, quickly losing functionality just like the rest of him and he fell to one knee with a wheeze, shaking all over. He shook his head with a pained groan, blood sliding down his ever-paling skin from the bullet wounds.

Tyleet tried to get up again, but his legs gave out and he collapsed on his side with a broken wheeze, shuddering weakly as his strength was slowly sapped by the tranquilizer.

Violet's team closed in, sensing it was finally safe to approach as the fight left their target.

Tyleet's eyes were huge with fear as they stared up into the faces of his attackers, a heartbeat before they rolled back in his head and he went limp with one final shudder, unconsciousness claiming his mind at last.

"Get that vile beast under control and ready for transport back to base," Violet barked, dragging herself upright off the ground as she got her composure back. She held her injured leg in the air, blood still dripping down from where she's been bitten.

Alexa watched guiltily as Violet's team hurried to follow orders, metal shackles quickly being clamped around Tyleet's wrists and ankles, rope tied tightly around his wings and torso to keep his wings pinned against his body where they couldn't flail and hit anyone else if he woke up sooner than expected.

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Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump @sausages-things

[bvidzsoo]

Pure-blooded (Part 2)

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warnings: the use of the word ‘bastard’, nothing else so far

 Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x oc

 Word count: 8997

 Summary:   A story about a girl called Vaella Velaryon, who after more than six years, returns to King's Landing due to her brother, Luke, being questioned about his right as heir of Driftmark, and she meets Aemond. A changed man. A vicious man who is set to have his revenge, unknowing that Vaella would do anything for her family.

 A/N:  well, well, well...I outdid myself on this one, this part wasn’t supposed to exist, but my bestie asked me to write of the siblings bonding time so uhm- this part happened. Next part will have some violence, so get ready for that, and also I will only post it next week because this week will be busy for me. If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know! I hope you enjoy this part and don’t be shy, share your thoughts with me, I love reading them! Happy reading now!

 Taglist: @depressedperson88 

↳Previous Part

           The siblings had made a ruckus in the kitchen of the Red Keep as Vaella and Luke ran around, clumsily each grabbing a bowl to fill with the snacks they stole. Jace remained in the doorway, holding the door open for his siblings, as they avoided crashing into anyone and tried to escape the chef’s angry hands trying to grab at them. Vaella was laughing loudly as a servant tried to grab at her, but she swiftly ducked and slid towards the door, shouting at Jace to open it wider as Luke came running behind her with a scared expression as he was being chased by a very angry chef, who was holding their butcher knife. Once the siblings were out in the hallway, their blood cursing with adrenaline, they glanced at each other before running for the dragon pit to mount their dragons with all the snack they had. They were loud as they dodged everyone in their way, not even bothering to apologize when they ran into a lady and almost made her topple over. They didn’t care about the judgmental looks from those who recognized who the they were, their only goal was to get to their dragons before their parents would be alerted of their mischievous deeds. Back at Dragonstone, the servants and chefs, stopped saying anything to their parents after a while as they realized the children only did this to break free from their crushing roles and earn a little freedom over their actions. Of course, Vaella was the one who initiated this little tradition of theirs, and as Jace and Luke were really young when she convinced them to join her, they absolutely loved the idea, and begged their sister from then on to steal snacks and ride their dragons to the island twice every week.

They arrived to the dragon pit quite quickly as they were running, weaving through the people with laughter escaping their lips. There, they tried to catch their breaths before searching for their dragons. A big grin broke out onto Vaella’s lips when she spotted Silverwing and she rushed up to him, petting its scales around his neck. Her dragon let out a low grumble of appreciation and allowed Vaella to mount him. She secured the bowl between herself and the edge of the saddle and instructed Silverwing to walk outside and then take its flight. The take-off was always a bit shaky and harsh for the two of them, but after a while, Vaella got used to it and learned to brace herself tightly against her dragon’s saddle. She almost flew off once, a long time ago, when she was just a little girl. As her dragon rose towards the white clouds, Vaella looked down and admired the people and constructions getting smaller and smaller. When she arrived to King’s Landing she didn’t have the opportunity to admire the landscape as she was full of fury and was only concentrating on landing as fast as possible at the Red Keep. But now, she allowed herself to relax on Silverwing as she straightened her back and gazed around her, waiting for her brothers to show up. And soon, one by one, Luke on Arrax and Jace on Vermax, they appeared on Vaella’s sides, keeping a safe distance between their respective dragons. Vaella grinned and waved at her brothers, who did the same, and motioned for them to follow her. She had the route to the meadow engraved in her memory and couldn’t wait to get there. She had missed it. Silverwing rose higher up in the sky, letting out a loud screech as he realized too which way they were going. Vaella smiled and patted the dragon’s scales, muttering to him ‘Sȳz valonqar’ (good boy). Her brothers were hot on her tail, and she heard laughter from behind as Luke’s dragon playfully flew over and then underneath Jace’s, playing with Vermax in the air. Jace laughed as well, but kept Vermax focused on following Silverwing as he promised his dragon that he could play with Arrax once they have landed. Silverwing suddenly changed direction and started plunging towards the earth, the wind hitting Vaella’s face harshly, but she was used to it. Silverwing enjoyed plunging towards the earth when he had to land, despite scaring his rider to death more than once before. Vaella hated it at first, and realized her dragon was only doing it because he could feel her fear through their bond, and so kept on doing it, until they both became used to it and started genuinely enjoying it. Arrax and Vermax followed Silverwing closely, however, they were careful in their descend as Jace and Luke watched their sister horrified, never having seen Silverwing do this before. They thought he had gone mad, that is, until, he suddenly opened his wings and started graciously floating towards the earth. Luke cradled his own bowl close to his chest as Arrax let out a shriek, landing first in the meadow. Its tail brought a few trees down, making the earth rumble, as Silverwing and Vermax followed suit in landing, but somewhere where there were no trees. Vaella started laughing as she watched her brother approach them with an embarrassed expression, and Jace wasted no time in starting to tease him.

“Look at you!” He exclaimed, jumping off his dragon and running up to Luke, “Eager to land first, eh? That is what happens when you get greedy—”

“I was not being greedy.” Luke snapped, and shot Jace a glare when his big brother tried to ruffle his hair, “And help Vaella down, her hands are full.”

Vaella chuckled as her brothers turned to look at her, making Jace take off towards her, to take the bowl full of snacks from her hands. Vaella carefully got off from her dragon, who helped her with its wings.

“Nyke jāhor ivestragī ao klios tolī īlon tegon rȳ se mele lua.” (I will let you fish after we land at the Red Keep.) Vaella whispered to her dragon before turning to smile at her brothers, “The meadow is all ours!”

The two boys cheered as they started running around, the tall grass reaching their knees in some areas. Vaella watched them with a small smile on her lips as she let her hands run along the grass, feeling finally content and at ease. Being back at King’s Landing brought back many pleasant and unpleasant memories. She didn’t feel safe here. She was exposed to the family who wanted her head and her mother’s, and because of this, she had to be on high alert all the time. She was used to this as she is a soldier, but even they get tired after a while. It was mentally draining to her, and all she wished for was for the trial to be over, with Luke’s heritage being reinforced, and her returning to Dragonstone before flying off to Pentos. She hadn’t been home in over a moon, which felt like an eternity to her. She wished to spend some time with her mother, possibly be there for her when she’d give birth to her baby sister.

“Did you seriously not grab even one bar of chocolate, Luke?!” Vaella was brought out of her thoughts by Jace’s loud voice. The two brothers had plopped down onto the ground where the grass didn’t reach their knees, with hopes that it wouldn’t poke their eyes out.

“I wasn’t really looking at what I was taking, Jace—have you seen the chef chasing me with a butcher knife?!” Luke exclaimed outraged, making Vaella chuckle as she sat herself on the ground, looking at her two brothers with amusement on her face.

“I managed to grab some—” Vaella’s lips curled up in amusement as she leaned forward her own bowl, trying not to laugh, “peas. That can be a very healthy snack—”

Jace’s loud groan cut Vaella off and she rolled her eyes, grabbing a pea and throwing it at her ungrateful brother, “Luke is right, we didn’t have the opportunity to look at what we were taking, really. Those people were chasing us as if we were some animals.”

Luke started nodding with a pointed look at Jace as he started munching on some biscuits. They still managed to grab some good snacks, which weren’t peas, and Jace sighed, finally settling on a banana. Vaella had grabbed it by accident while aiming to take the chocolate bar, but the servant yelling at her had distracted her.

“Tell me, brother…” Vaella trailed off with a mischievous look on her face as she eased her hand inside the pocket of her pants, “Were you craving some chocolate?”

Jace’s face lit up as he forgot about the banana he was munching on and nodded his head eagerly, “Well then…have some.”

Vaella pulled her hand out of her pocket, holding two bars of chocolate. Her brothers eyes lit up as they both leaned forward, grabbing the chocolate from Vaella, as if their lives depended on it. She laughed quietly, shaking her head at them, as she grabbed Jace’s half eaten banana and took a bite of it.

“These are from Pentos?!” Luke exclaimed excited as he undid the wrapping of his chocolate. Vaella nodded her head and Jace gave her a big smile before devouring his chocolate, looking as if he had just eaten the best meal of his life.

“I had no idea you two loved chocolate so much.” Vaella scoffed as she looked at Luke, who had a little chocolate in the corner of his mouth, making Jace snicker at him.

“The chocolate you bring from Pentos is always tastier than the one the chefs make at Dragonstone.” Jace said as a matter of fact, and Vaella shook her head, glancing back at her dragon as he let out a loud sigh. Her dragon had curled up and laid on the ground, resting, as his eyes found its riders. Vaella smiled at him before looking around, seeing that Arrax and Vermax had fallen asleep, despite being in a playful mood while they flew over here. She wasn’t surprised that even their dragons felt tranquil in this little meadow. She had once fallen asleep, and if it wasn’t for the rain, she probably would’ve spent the night here, scaring her mother and father, Laenor, to death. Viserys would catch her flying away on her dragon more than once, and each time he inquired where she went, Vaella would just give him a cheeky smile before telling him that it was a secret and maybe one day she would show it to him. Now, knowing that he was sick and nearing the end of his life, she wished she could take the King here, offer him a little peace and freedom. Free from the claws of those monsters, the Hightowers.

“Sister,” Jace lightly touched her knee to get Vaella’s attention, “will you tell us of your time spent at Pentos—”

“Did you partake in another tourney?” Luke cut off his brother, eyes wide as he leaned forward. Vaella grinned at her brothers before leaning back, resting on the cold ground. She let her hands touch the grass, taking in the energies nature had to offer to her. It was so pleasant.

“Unfortunately, Luke, I could not partake in a tourney once again. They had caught onto my shenanigans, I’m afraid.” Vaella answered her brother with a chuckle, making the boy pout. Out of curiosity and boredom, Vaella would disguise herself as a man and take part in the tourneys organized in Pentos. She had skills, she was an excellent swordsman and she could ride a horse almost as well as her dragon. She would lie of her true nature, make up a name of a lord who lived in a small province close to Pentos, and thus charm all the ladies and anger all the lords and knights partaking in the event. There were times when she’d win and there were times when she’d lose. But each time she’d have ladies swooning over her by the end of the day, forcing her to reveal her true nature. The shock on their faces once she took her wig off was always amusing and it brought a sense of satisfaction to her. Rhaenyra was informed of her daughter’s questionable deeds as one of her knight’s was at Pentos during one of the tourney’s, and she couldn’t help but receive the news with laughter and a shake of her head, unsurprised of her daughter’s antics. After all, she was a younger copy of her late husband, Daemon, and she didn’t have much control over what her daughter did or didn’t while staying at Pentos. Rhaenyra trusted her that she wouldn’t do anything too stupid, thus, she wrote back to the knight, asking him to let her daughter be. Many lords egos and dignities’ had been hurt when Vaella disclosed her true self, starting small altercations, in which she gladly partook, knowing very well that no man had succeeded in defeating her. Well, besides her father, Daemon, who had taught her all of his knowledge. She had to yet defeat him; Daemon was waiting for that faithful day as well.

“Then did you partake in any adventures?” Jace asked eagerly, grabbing some peanut from Luke’s bowl. Luke and Jace were a bit disappointed that their sister had nothing funny to share connected to tourneys, they always looked forward to hearing about her tricks.

“I’m afraid not, brother,” Vaella smiled, closing her eyes as she stared up at the light blue sky, “My time spent at Pentos was rather tranquil and mild, compared to how I would usually spend my time there.”

Jace and Luke sighed in disappointment, sharing a glance, before following their sister and laying down onto the grass. Jace was a bit fidgety at first, scared of ants crawling onto him, but Luke found himself enjoying such mundane activity. He loved going to their secret little island, hearing the waves crash against the shore as he stared up at the blue clouds, but this meadow was a nice change. The quiet around them was surprisingly relaxing and he couldn’t help but relinquish in all the wild flowers around them and their scents as the breeze carried it to their noses. Luke could see himself coming here often if they were to live at the Red Keep. But he knew that would not happen anytime soon. And even if it did, that meant that his grandsire would be dead, and his mother would be Queen. He wanted that, he really did, but it made him so nervous when he realized he’d have to live here, with his uncles and their family. He knew the bad blood would never end between the two families, and it only brought a sour taste into his mouth, as he remembered the hearing would be tomorrow. Just a fool would believe the Hightowers would take their side. Luke knew, for certain, that his right as heir of Driftmark would be reneged tomorrow. He felt sad, perhaps he should’ve felt more outraged and angry, but he knew he wouldn’t be a great leader of the fleet. He tried to be brave and stand up to Ser Vaemond’s accusations, but after all, he was just a scared boy.

“I miss Ser Harwin Strong.” Luke found himself suddenly saying, lips in a tight line, as he blinked away the tears in his eyes. Jace and him weren’t stupid, they knew who their true father was. They never dared saying it out loud, because it would just prove what everyone else was accusing them of. They loved Laenor Velaryon, but Ser Harwin had done more for them, than their alleged father had. They couldn’t help it but miss Ser Harwin from time to time. Luke’s words made Jace tense up and he glanced at his younger brother, debating whether he should kick his foot or crack a joke and deviate from the subject, but Vaella beat him to it.

“I miss him too sometimes.” Vaella admitted out loud with a quiet sigh, opening her eyes to gaze at the white clouds. The sky was so beautiful today. Despite Ser Harwin not being Vaella’s father, he played an important role in her life. He protected her and kept her away from harm as a little girl and even taught her a little combat, fearing that she would have to protect herself if he weren’t to be around. As the years passed and she grew, her fondness for Ser Harwin only solidified as she saw how ferociously loyal he was to her mother and how good care he took of her brothers, and herself. On days when they had to stay inside the castle, Ser Harwin would play hide and seek with them, and sometimes, when it was late in the night and she couldn’t sleep, she would go to him and ask him to play dress up with her. Ser Harwin was quite surprised at Vaella’s request, but once agreeing to play with her, he was surprised of how much they found themselves laughing as Vaella tried to force Ser Harwin into a few of her mother’s clothes. Of course, Princess Rhaenyra started to catch on when her dresses in the morning would be misplaced or even torn in places, so she decided to follow her daughter and Ser Harwin one evening, only to find them laughing as Rhaenyra’s delicate dress only fit over Ser Harwin’s armored leg. She watched the two people with love in her eyes before turning around and returning to her chamber, content that her daughter and secret lover were so fond of each other, cradling her baby bump, as Jace was close to being born. Rhaenyra knew then and there, that Ser Harwin Strong will make a fine father.

Jace cleared his throat as he sat up, looking at his siblings with a frown. He didn’t wish to speak of Ser Harwin, finding it hard to speak of his dead father. He didn’t hold any resentment against him, but he wished Prince Laenor was his true father, then so many conflicts could’ve been avoided, “I saw uncle Aegon today, before I went to find Luke to head to the courtyard…”

Jace’s voice was loud as he trailed off and Luke winced, glancing at his brother, “Was he as cruel as Prince…Aemond?” He found it difficult saying his uncle’s name after today. He couldn’t lie, Aemond frightened him.

“I would not know,” Jace shrugged and tore a red wild flower off, “I only saw him from a distance, but apart from his obvious growth, he didn’t seem like he had changed much.”

“Why? Was he carrying a jug of wine?” Vaella mocked, as Luke started giggling before he sat up too, stretching his arms over his head. He was craving some grapes and was glad when he saw some in his sister’s bowl. Jace shook his head with an amused grin before tearing off another wild flower, a yellow one this time.

“Ye, he was holding something, ‘though I did not see what.” His answer made his siblings chuckle as they shook their heads. Apparently, Aemond was the only who had changed, and maybe Haelena, but they didn’t have the chance of meeting her yet.

“So,” Luke muttered, chewing his grapes, “Aegon seems not to have changed, but Aemond—” He shuddered as he said his uncle’s name, making Jace’s face instantly darken. He knew Prince Aemond represented a threat to them, his mere presence frightening.

“Uncle Aemond had always been a scared little boy, who would not stand up for himself, and just because his physique has changed, you shouldn’t let yourselves be intimidated by him, brothers.” Vaella’s tone was hard, and her brothers glanced at each other unsurely, before looking back at their sister.

“Yes, but—” Jace had gulped as his eyebrows furrowed, “you have seen him, Vaella. He’s—he’s looking—”

“Vicious.” Luke cut his brother’s words off, “And vile. And he hates us, sister, had you not seen the way he was looking at us? I do not think we should provoke him or anger him—”

“Oh, please,” Vaella has had enough of her brothers whining as she sat up, glaring at them, “Aemond is nothing but a man with a harsh exterior who still goes running to his mother, crying about the people who dared wrong him.”

Jace didn’t want to argue with his sister that her words weren’t quite accurate, and so, felt hesitant about speaking up. It was very obvious that Aemond had changed and wasn’t what he once was. Luke glanced at Jace with uncertainty before daring to open his mouth, “Princess Vaella, I think…I think you should be careful. Around uncle Aemond, I mean, I think, and Jace does too, that it’s best if you just…keep your head down while we stay at the Red Keep.”

Vaella scoffed and looked away from her brothers, shaking her head at them. Nobody could convince her that Aemond was the vicious man he seemed to be. When they were children, and before Alicent could get to her sons with her vile words, her and Aemond would stay in the library and read together fairytales of far-away lands. Each time they would finish the bedtime story, Aemond would sigh and whisper to Vaella that once they grew up they could go and live in a castle on a mountainside with their dragons, if his had finally hatched too. Vaella scoffed at the memory, flashes of a tall and dangerous looking Aemond invading her thoughts. He was different, she could tell, but she refused to acknowledge it just yet.

“Say what you want to say, brothers, you are free to speak your minds, but I shall never bow down to the Hightowers, no matter who tries to make me—” Vaella’s words were cut off as a dragon’s loud screech alerted them, making the siblings dragons stand up and look up towards the sky as if they sensed danger. Vaella, Jace, and Luke were on their feet, bowls abandoned as they rushed to their dragons, holding them and keeping them still. Vaella held the side of her dragon’s face as she looked up into the sky, gulping when she spotted the enormous dragon flying above them. It was Vhagar. And if Vhagar was here, so was Prince Aemond. Jace and Luke realizing the same looked at Vaella alarmed, unknowing what would be right to do.

“īlon umbagon syt zirȳla naejot henujagon.” (We wait for him to leave.) Vaella spoke up with authority, as her eyes remained glued to her uncle’s dragon, “Pār īlon return.” (Then we return.)

           And that is how they proceeded. They waited for their uncle to be gone before mounting their own dragons to fly back to the Red Keep. Not wanting to ruin the lovely time they spent at the meadow, they continued to joke on the fly back and decided to race each other, curious to see who’s dragon would get faster to the dragon pit. Arrax was a fast dragon, so it wasn’t a big surprise as Luke beat his siblings to it and Jace had a feeling Vaella just let them win as he arrived as second on Vermax. And Jace was right, Vaella’s mood had been ruined the second they started talking about Prince Aemond, but she tried to hide it as she suggested them racing. However, Silverwing sensed her tenseness and took it easy, floating above the clouds and offering her a sense of calmness before they would land. Vaella instructed her brothers to wear the hoods of their cloaks as night was slowly falling, and she didn’t want any incidents as they had to weave through the people of King’s Landing before getting to the Red Keep. Vaella had her hood up as well, and despite wanting to blend in, it was only bringing attention to them. She wore her burgundy cloak for a reason, but sometimes it did not offer her the camouflage she needed. As they neared the entrance, two guards stepped forward and denied them access, that is until Vaella took off her hood, revealing her platinum blonde hair. The guards bowed their heads and wordlessly opened the gates for the siblings, Jace and Luke lowering their hoods as well as they waltzed inside the courtyard, lords and ladies glancing at them as everyone was headed inside the castle, the cold breeze of the evening drawing people inside their warm chambers. Jace and Luke were snickering about something behind Vaella, not paying attention to her nor towards the stairs, where their step-father, Daemon, was standing with his hands resting on his sword, legs crossed and head lowered as he watched Rhaenyra’s children approaching him.

“Father.” Vaella abruptly stopped, having held eye contact with Daemon the second they entered, making her brothers run into her back. Jace groaned and was about to inquire Vaella why she’d stop, but Luke nudged his shoulder with a panicked expression. Jace looked ahead and instantly tensed, watching an unamused Daemon slowly approaching them.

“Princess Vaella, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys.” Daemon drew out the names of the children standing in front of him, backs straight and head held high, but Vaella was the only one holding his eye contact. Daemon tried not to smirk at his daughter’s defiance and show of power.

“Prince Daemon.” Luke and Jace had finally found their voices, once Daemon stood in front of them, both of them looking at the ground.

“Do you have no consideration for your mother’s well-being?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh as he scolded the siblings, “Disappearing from a place, without a word to your parents, in a land which does not favor us is rather foolish, isn’t it?”

“It is.” Vaella agreed, breaking the eye contact as she lowered her eyes to the ground, “I apologize, my Prince, it was my idea to take our dragons and fly for a bit—”

“Yes, I was not expecting it the other way around, Princess,” Daemon sighed and let his eyes rest on Jace and Luke, “I was told you raided the kitchen—”

“That was my idea, my Prince.” Jace tried to cover for his sister as he averted his eyes from Daemon, embarrassed, but also scared.

“And it was my idea to fly out to this meadow not far from here—”

“Luke!” Vaella snapped and glanced back at him with a glare, telling him to shut up. Only Rhaenyra and her knew of that place and she showed it to her brothers because she trusted them. She did not wish for her father to know about it. Luke smiled at her sheepishly and looked at the ground when Daemon chuckled.

“I know of that meadow, daughter, who do you think showed it to your mother?” Vaella’s eyes snapped back up at her father and she tried to hide her surprise. So all this time, both her mother and father knew of it. It made Vaella wonder how many times they visited that beautiful place.

“Well,” Vaella cleared her throat and glanced at her brothers before looking back at her father, “We apologize for disappearing unannounced, it was foolish of us.”

“Yes, very well,” Daemon nodded at them and sighed, placing his hands on his hips, “Now go and announce your mother that you all are back so that she stops worrying, quickly!”

Jace and Luke nodded eagerly, glad that they wouldn’t get punished, as they ran around Vaella and Daemon, stopping to wait for their sister at the top of the stairs. Vaella was about to walk away as well, but Daemon raised his hand, stopping her.

“Not you, Princess, we haven’t trained together in long.” Daemon said with a smirk and Vaella chuckled, looking at her brothers before waving.

“This late, father?!” Jace whined, wanting Vaella to go with them to their mother, knowing well that Rhaenyra wouldn’t shout at them if Vaella was there to mediate.

“ȳdra daor mazverdagon aōha muñnykeā umbagon syt longer, ziry jāhor mērī jiōragon madder.” (Don't make your mother wait for longer, she will only get madder.) Daemon sounded amused as Luke sighed and took Jace’s arm, quickly running inside the castle, not wanting to prolong their mother’s worry. Vaella chuckled at her father’s words and unclasped her cloak, the evening’s cold breeze getting to her. Daemon twirled his sword around as dusk settled on the kingdom, already wearing his armor. Vaella and him moved to the side of the courtyard to stay out of other’s way as they would train. Vaella went and grabbed an armor fit for her and put it on, getting familiar to the feel of it, as she unclasped her own sword from her hip, gripping the handle tightly in her left hand. She went and stood in front of Daemon, leaving a respectable space between them as Daemon started walking around her, yet Vaella stayed unmoving. She concentrated hard, listening to each of his father’s steps as he was behind her, and abruptly turned when she heard the slash of a sword in the air, rising to strike down on her. Vaella had her own sword up, blocking her father’s sword as she drew in a deep breath, striking once and twice, making her father step back in retaliation. Daemon smirked at her aggressivity and nodded his head at her, showing appreciation for her moves. Vaella paid it no mind as she jumped forward, bringing her sword towards her father as she attacked him this time, bringing vicious jabs against his armor with her sword. Daemon knew she was just playing around with him, having taught her that himself, so he started advancing on her, trying to sway her focus as his sword was blocked by hers again and again.

           Vella and Daemon were fierce soldiers who had no problem playing with their adversary before gaining the upper hand and striking down on them. Usually their trainings would stretch out as they both took their time to attack, and tonight was no different. The courtyard was lit by torches as their swords clashed against each other, a few lords standing in the balcony, watching the father and daughter duel, as sweat covered their foreheads. Vaella was panting hard, her arms burning from the constant brute force she was using in her try of disarming her father, but it was futile. It seemed as if Daemon somehow always gained the upper hand and defeated her. It frustrated her, she wanted to show her father that she was capable of taking down anyone, but perhaps that day hasn’t come yet. With one blow, Vaella’s sword lay on the ground as Daemon had his pointed at her neck, chuckling when he saw his daughter’s fuming gaze staring daggers at him.

“You had gotten better, Princess.” Daemon said as he lowered his sword and picked up hers, handing it to her. Vaella took it with force, strapping it onto her hip as she sighed.

“And yet I wasn’t able to disarm you not even once, father, and we’ve been out here for hours.” Vaella voice was quiet as she undid her low bun, setting her hair free, as it reached the middle of her back. She had rather wavy hair and it got frizzy after wearing it in a bun all day, but that was her go-to hairstyle as it was easy to move around and fight, if needed.

“Do not fret, Vaella, you learn very quickly,” Daemon tried to reassure his daughter, “You picked up three new ways of attack tonight, daughter, you are good.”

“Good isn’t enough.” Vaella snapped as she helped her father undo the bindings of his armor, “I need to be excellent.”

“You already are.” Daemon whispered as Vaella stood in front of him. Her eyes found his and she looked away, feeling nervous all of a sudden. Despite Daemon not being around while she was a child, after her parent’s marriage, they had gotten close very quickly. It didn’t come as a big surprise as Vaella knew he was her real father, she yearned to know who he truly was. Rhaenyra had told her many stories of Daemon while she was growing up, and as a young girl, she had been so curious of this mystery man. Finally meeting him at Laena’s funeral came as a shock. Vaella could still remember the knot in her throat and her lungs refusing to take in air when she was forced to greet Daemon by her grandsire. Daemon’s eyes had widened, just slightly, but Vaella had seen it. Rhaenyra was biting her lip as she watched the exchange, and quickly fled the scene when Daemon turned to face her, face littered with a million of questions.

“You are Rhaenyra’s firstborn child, yes?” Daemon had asked Vaella once her mother departed, and she gulped, yet managed to hold his cold gaze.

“Yes, Prince Daemon.” Vaella had answered him, voice hard before she walked off, not knowing what to do with herself, until she spotted her brothers with their cousins. She decided to join them and share her condolences with the two girls, who were quietly crying into Jace and Luke’s shoulders, the boys awkwardly trying to comfort them. Daemon stood shocked as he watched the little girl, Rhaenyra’s firstborn, joining his daughters from Laena, and couldn’t help but think, how neither one of his daughters resembled him as much as Vaella did. His heart clenched and he knew he had to talk to Rhaenyra, ask her what was suddenly eating him alive. Vaella watched as the mystery man, who she looked so much like, stormed off, no surprise, to find her mother. Suddenly, in the young girl’s mind, everything started making sense. Why everyone looked at her with so much spite at the Red Keep whenever she said something harsh. Why people would whisper ‘bastard’ behind her back as she walked by them. And why, sometimes when the King would get drunk, would cup Vaella’s cheek and whisper Daemon’s name to her before stalking off, leaving her so confused. It all made sense now, and she couldn’t stop the few tears escaping her eyes as she hugged her two grieving cousins, offering them support like her brothers had done.

“Vaella, you are a woman like none other,” Daemon spoke up, bringing his daughter back into the present, as he took his armor off, “And you resemble your mother so much, the new and old Gods have truly blessed you—”

“Yet I don’t resemble her enough that people wouldn’t whisper bastard behind my back as a little girl growing up in this castle.” Vaella didn’t mean to be harsh, but she couldn’t help it. Being back here aggravated her, made her feel things she had been repressing for so long. She loved her father and mother, but she resented them for hiding the truth from her, for letting her feel confused for so long. She resented Daemon for not being there for her when she was scared, and had nobody to go to, a man, who would protect her. Prince Laenor was never there when she needed him most and in a perfect fantasy of hers, she imagined Daemon always being there for her.

“If I had known—if Rhaenyra would have told me, you know I would’ve been present in your life since the beginning—” Vaella cut him off with a loud sigh, looking above them, spotting the curious looking lords in the balcony looking down at them. They were talking quietly, but she was paranoid.

“But that wasn’t the case, father, and we can do nothing to change the past, we must accept it and move on. I’m trying to do just that, you should too.” Vaella’s words were firm as she stepped back from her father and started undoing the added leather for protection on her calves.

“Of course.” Daemon muttered and glanced up at the curious lords, sending them a glare before looking back at Vaella. They couldn’t have much privacy at this damned castle.

“Nyke gīmigon skoriot aōha pazavorve lays rȳ.” (I know where your loyalty lays at.) Daemon spoke up in High Valyrian, making sure no one but just the two of them would understand, “Yn nyke līs epagon lo ao jāhor nykeōragon ondoso aōha dāria daor matter se situation se outcome.” (But I must ask if you will stand by your Queen no matter the situation and outcome.)

Vaella stiffened and straightened her back, looking at her father fiercely, “Ao should feel ashamed asking such mirre hen issa!” (You should feel ashamed asking such thing from me!) She didn’t mean for her voice to raise, but she was outraged by her father’s foolish question.

“Rhaenyra iksos se mērī dāria nyke jāhor mirre support.” (Rhaenyra is the only Queen I will ever support.) Daemon saw no hesitation in his daughter, heard no hidden motives in her words. He knew he could trust her, but he needed to hear it. Nothing was certain anymore, and he couldn’t fight a war alone, without her on their side.

“Nyke feel ziry isse ñuha bones, tala, iā vīlībāzma iksis brewing.” (I feel it in my bones, daughter, a war is brewing.) Daemon sighed out, shaking his head as Vaella took off the other leather from her calf.

“Pār īlon kessa vīlībagon ziry.” (Then we shall fight it.) Vaella held her head high, bringing a proud smile on Daemon’s lips, “Se ērinagon ziry.” (And win it.)

“We shall.” Daemon repeated and walked up to his daughter, grabbing her shoulder. She looked at him with tired eyes, feeling her body begging her to take a hot bath and rest, tomorrow would be a straining day. Daemon smiled at Vaella before leaning in and kissing her forehead, wishing her good night, and departing to his chamber to rest for the night.

Vaella heaved a sigh and threw her leather protectors onto the ground roughly, pulling at her own bindings with no patience, wanting to be out of her armor. She didn’t care if the lords were still watching her, she was a soldier, not a gentle lady like those lords were used to seeing and being with. So, with a harsh tug, Vaella took her armor off herself and let it fall to the ground, making it clatter loudly. She couldn’t help but sigh out in relief, finally having the added weight off her, her muscles sore as she hadn’t fought in long while wearing armor. She had started mumbling about how Daemon kept her out here for too long, and now she couldn’t go apologize to her mother for going away unannounced, unaware of the approaching footsteps from behind her. She looked around, searching for her cloak as she wouldn’t leave without it, and the cold breeze of the night was making her sweaty skin shudder.

“Shouldn’t a princess be in her chambers at such late hour, niece?” Vaella went rigid as she stood up straight, recognizing the voice, and she turned around to face her uncle. Aemond was standing tall, not too far from her, as he took in her form, realizing she was wearing the same clothing from earlier today when they had seen each other for the first time in so long. Vaella didn’t wish to answer him, instead stared him down, making sure to glare at him, only amusing Aemond as her face wasn’t very clear due to the night, the torches weren’t strong enough to lit up well the courtyard.

Turning her back to him and snatching her cloak, finally having found it, she snapped at her uncle, “I was out training with my father, uncle.”

Aemond just hummed and watched her fumble with her cloak as she threw it around her shoulders, securing it around her neck. The deep burgundy of her cloak was irking Aemond’s eye as he looked back at his niece’s face, finding nothing but defiance on it. It made him smirk, he rarely met women who didn’t cover before him, frightened out of their minds, and actually held his gaze without ogling at his eyepatch. And why would Vaella do that? She was there that night, she saw it all, she saw him freshly wounded, and even dared to scream at him that he deserved it for trying to defend himself against her brothers, who had ganged up on him. It made Aemond’s blood boil as he let the memory overtake him.

“One last fight before you depart to your chamber, Princess?” Aemond’s lips curled at the ends as raised his right eyebrow at Vaella, watching her every move, analyzing her every reaction. Vaella sucked in a deep breath, suddenly her heart beating quickly at the question. Her muscles were burning, her arms barely able to raise after the hours she had done training with Daemon. She wanted to say yes and punch that smug look off of her uncle’s face, but as a well-mannered princess, she had to decline. It was unacceptable that she was out here, unchaperoned by one of her guards, despite not needing one, so late in the night. While she was with her father it was alright, but the lords still haven’t gone from their balcony, finding this exchange more intriguing than the training with her father, waiting to spread gossip the next day. So no, she had to say no.

“Good night, Prince.” Vaella slightly bowed her head as she brushed past Aemond. Despite there being plenty of space, she wanted to show him that she wasn’t afraid of a little challenge, she just had to protect her own image while at the Red Keep. Wouldn’t want to add fuel to the already lingering fire.

“Sepār hae ēdan suspected, ao ābrar jorrāelagon naejot ȳdragon se challenge īlva vali, yn gaomagon ao mirre drējī iōragon bē syt yourselves?” (Just as I had suspected, you women love to talk and challenge us men, but do you ever truly stand up for yourselves?) Aemond’s words made Vaella stop so fast that she let out a quiet groan, her muscles straining. Her ears started ringing as her uncle’s words replayed in her mind, but she had enough self-control to will herself to move again.

“Iks�� dekurūbare qrīdrughagon kesrio syt iksā zūgagon.  Ao gīmigon nyke would defeat ao, niece.” (You are walking away because you are afraid. You know I would defeat you, niece.) Vaella tried not to see red in front of her eyes, but couldn’t. Not when Aemond was disrespecting her so casually and plainly. Her feet stopped and she took in a deep breath, feeling her chest rise and then slowly fall, as she let out that breath.

“Iksan daor zūgagon!” (I am not afraid!) Vaella couldn’t control the volume of her voice, she made the lords jump in the balcony with her loud shout, as she stormed back towards her uncle. He stood his ground, eyebrow raised as he watched his niece amused, suddenly red in the face after being accused by him of cowardly. Apparently, he still knew what to say to make her tick. Vaella had changed, but apparently, her temper and ego hadn’t.

“Se kesā sagon begging nyke naejot keligon.” (And you will be begging me to stop.) Vaella’s voice was grave as she stood, squaring up her uncle, staring up in his eye due to their close proximity. Aemond suddenly became serios, reaching up to undo the binding of his cloak.

“I take it we will fight then, niece.” He whispered, voice low yet so mischievous and challenging, it drove Vaella mad as she was fuming. She knocked her shoulder into his as she went back to her previous spot, where she had been searching for her cloak, and unclasped it, letting it fall onto the ground. She grabbed the hair tie off her wrist and messily tied her hair in a low bun, strands of hair sticking out in all directions, some didn’t even make it inside the bun, but she didn’t care as she drew her sword from its socket, holding it pointed towards Prince Aemond. He had abandoned his cloak as well, his own sword in his hand, as he came to stand in front of Princess Vaella.

“Will you not wear your armor, dear niece? Aren’t you afraid your perfect, fragile, skin might be cut—”

“I have fought battles without wearing armor, uncle, and I came out unscathed.” Vaella laughed, sarcasm dripping in her voice, “You should be the one afraid for their fragile, human skin.”

“You are forgetting I am a Targaryen myself, Princess.” Aemond snapped at the obvious jab of Vaella’s, wishing to slash her throat, but so far, they had been circling each other only, undecided who was the prey and who was praying on them.

“Half Targaryen, Prince.” Vaella’s voice was loud as she made sure even the lords would hear her and she could hear them whispering, oh, how sweet the gossip tomorrow would be, she couldn’t wait. Aemond had seemingly had enough of Vaella’s taunting and decided to strike first, aggressively and merciless, as his blow sent Vaella stumbling back. His force was amazing, Vaella imagined he was weaker as his tall, lanky body seemed to have less force than the actual he had in himself. She braced herself, willing her mind to ignore the burning of her muscles as adrenaline started rushing through her, making her smirk to herself. She saw Aemond trying to land another strike, so she jumped first, raising her sword and bringing it down on him, making Aemond hiss as he barely was able to deflect her blow. Vaella chuckled and bowed her head in a mocking apology, making Aemond strike again harshly, aiming for her legs, trying to throw her off balance. But it didn’t work as Vaella blocked each and every of his attacks, their swords clashing against each other loudly as both of them were grunting due to the force they were putting into the fight. And so, it was established, Aemond was the one who attacked and Vaella was the one who had to defend herself, from time to time, gaining a bit of advantage as she managed to corner Aemond with her strong blows, yet never managed to disarm him. It was becoming tiring and Vaella was starting to get frustrated as all she wished for was to fall into her puffy bed and let her body rest, but when Aemond managed to slice the sleeve of her shirt, it snapped her back from her body’s wants, and broke her patience. She was done playing the victim, defending herself from his ruthless blows. She took charge, going at him, and striking him from each and every side she could, twisting her body and making Aemond defend like he has never before. His long hair was getting in the way of his good eye as Vaella kept circling him and attempting jabs at him, and he was growing frustrated, wanting to disarm her to prove his point to her. But Vaella was just not letting him gain advantage and he could help but let out a frustrated cry as he jumped forward, making Vaella retaliate, as she didn’t see his sudden, stupid, attack coming. And because she was taken off guard, Aemond managed to knock the sword out of her hold, making her hiss when her wrist suffered the strain of the blow. He didn’t just knock the sword out of her hold, but ripped it out. Their chests were rising and falling quickly, both of them sweaty, and out of breath as they gazed into each other’s eyes, waiting for the other to make the next move. Technically, Vaella had lost, but Aemond wasn’t making the final move, as if he couldn’t actually believe he had won. But he had, in his mind, at least. And with a smug smirk, he allowed his body to relax as he slowly started raising his sword from the ground to point it at Vaella’s neck. But this was exactly what Vaella was waiting for, and she almost laughed when in a swift movement, while raising her leg to knock it into Aemond’s wrist to knock his sword out of his hold, she also went and grabbed the dagger hidden inside her boot. When Aemond’s sword clattered to the ground he had no time to feel shocked or try to even retrieve it, because he found himself tackled onto the hard ground, grunting as the back of his head collided with the sandy concrete. He looked up at his niece as her body pinned his down against the ground, legs around his hips as she pushed all her body weight on him, and he gulped. This was something new. He had never been put down by a woman, let alone a light one as his niece, who had him struggling to stand up, yet couldn’t. His fidgeting came to a sudden stop when Vaella’s dagger was pointed against his neck, lightly pushing against his skin. He let out a breath, looking up at the Princess with an almost defeated look on his face. Vaella, well versed in hand-to-hand combat, knew how to keep a man pinned against the ground, and made sure she left no options that could help Aemond get up and continue their fight. Now, Vaella was the one who won, Aemond didn’t have a second weapon like she did. The fight was over. Won by her. She gazed into Aemond’s eye with smugness, pressing her dagger a bit more into his skin, raising her eyebrows at him.

“What do you say, uncle—” But her words got swallowed, when Aemond suddenly pressed his neck against her dagger, scaring her that he was trying to slice his own neck, making her draw it back just slightly, offering Aemond a small opening so that he could grab her other dagger out of her boot. Before she could register what had happened, she only felt her other dagger being pulled from her boot and she had her own dagger pressing against her neck, Aemond being the one with a smug smirk on his face this time. Vaella couldn’t mask her shock as her eyes ran all over Aemond’s face, trying to think of her next move, what she should do. However, she made the mistake of softening her body, not pressing Aemond against the ground with all of her weight anymore, offering him the chance to move around freely. And so, Aemond decided to sit up swiftly, holding Vaella close to himself by her middle, as they had her daggers pressing against each other’s throats.

“I say it’s a draw, niece.” His voice was low as he breathed out his words, the two of them so close they could feel each other’s breaths on their faces. Vaella’s mind had gone blank, she felt like she couldn’t breathe or think all of a sudden. Her heart was racing, and she couldn’t help but notice how firmly Aemond was holding her against himself, how she felt his thighs tensing underneath her, how her eyes were suddenly on his curled lips. No, she must’ve been losing her mind. Aemond tried to ignore how Vaella seemed to fit so well against his body and in a different scenario, they could’ve been snuggled up against each other like this. But Vaella finally caught herself and snapped out of her traitorous thoughts and drew her dagger back from Aemond’s neck, scurrying up and as far away as possible from Aemond. She refused to acknowledge all the thoughts that had just ran through her mind while she was sitting on top of him, she refused. It never happened, or else she’d hate herself until the day she dies. Aemond suddenly seemed to be robbed of the warmth he had been feeling prior, making it realize that it was Vaella who had been emitting it. Just as he had looked up at her, he saw a hand offered for him to take. He grabbed onto Vaella’s hand, who helped him up wordlessly, both of them trying to ignore the firm grip they seemed to have and their bodies reactions to it. Vaella quickly let go of his warm and large hand once Aemond stood on his feet. Aemond couldn’t help but notice his heart racing as he had felt Vaella’s soft skin against his battered one.

“Your daggers have been nicely crafted,” Aemond found his voice as he looked at his niece’s dagger, inspecting it closely. Of course, it had the emblem of the Targaryen’s on it and the handle was decorated with three blood-red stones, “Small, sharp, and vicious.”

Vaella knew he was talking about her daggers, but couldn’t help think he was describing her. She wasn’t small, however, maybe once had been, but once she grew she towered over most men, only the really tall ones could look down on her. And it just so happened that Aemond was almost a head taller than her. She refused to look at him as Aemond handed her dagger back, searching her face to see a reaction or something, but Vaella had blanked. All she wanted to do was lay in her bed and forget that this whole fight even happened. Once both of her daggers were in her hands, she grabbed her sword and walked up to get her cloak, but didn’t bother to put it on, as she stormed past her uncle, making sure to keep her distance as the feel of his body was still fresh in her mind.

Aemond grabbed his own cloak and gazed after his niece, securing his sword against his hip as he took off towards the city, needing to blow off some steam. Her soft skin forever engraved inside his mind.

↳Next part (to be posted) 

[seducemefanficsandheadcanons]

Soul Bound

Chapter Six- Master Manipulater

Also posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

Trigger warning for blood

Not proof read lol

Master manipulator

God, you’re so good at what you do

Come for me like a savior

And I’d put myself through hell for you

Hear all the rumors lately

That you always denied

Logical- Olivia Rodrigo

The next few days were quiet, the boys doing their part to clean up after themselves and staying out of Aron’s way. She’d hardly even seen Sam, and she couldn’t tell if it was because she was avoiding him or if he was also avoiding her. 

It’s for the best she would remind herself as she wiped the sweat off of her forehead. She was outside, practicing her magic despite the Chicago heat, wearing black knee length basketball shorts and a red baggy t-shirt. Typically, she would practice in the grand lobby, but she didn’t want to risk misfiring and hitting one of the incubi. Or to risk seeing them in general.

She focused her magic in her fingertips, shooting sharp energy at it and causing the bark to chip. She sighed, having hit too far to the side for her liking. She continued practicing, the kiss with Andrew still fresh on her mind. She tried to focus purely on her magic, but her emotions with Sam stirred in her chest.

“Oh? And what makes you so sure about that?” Diana asked her with a smug smirk, her eyes challenging. 

They were standing in the lobby where the succubus had come to persuade Sam to return with her. She’d gone as far as offering him the throne, to rule the abyssal plains with her. Aron had come out to confront her, to argue on Sam’s behalf. But that question made Aron freeze.

She didn’t know why she was so sure that Sam didn’t. She knew why she was sure she didn’t want him to leave, why he had argued to leave. She had fallen for him, there was no doubt about that. And as much as the three words she so badly wanted to say meant, it couldn’t stop him from leaving with her unless he reciprocated, and she was so confident he didn’t.

Aron looked at Sam, who’s eyes were glaring daggers at Diana.

“Oh, I see. You love him” Diana chuckled, obviously amused.

“Human, it doesn't matter how much you love him, he will never love you.”

Aron looked at her, her heart squeezing painfully. “I know,” she said, keeping her tone dry. “But that doesn't change anything.”

Diana's entire body started to shake with laughter. “Oh? It doesn't? You would fight this hard for someone who won't ever love you back?”

Aron could feel Sam's eyes on her, but she spoke before he could. “Yes. Because, even if he doesn't, I care more about his happiness. Leaving with you is not something he wants, so even if I wake up tomorrow and he's gone, I can live with that because he's happy. That's what love is, even when it isn't reciprocated. It's wanting what's best for them, even if in the end you can’t have them.”

The woman rolled her eyes. “You are pathetic, truly. And incredibly stupid. What is best for him would be to allow him to leave with me, someone who can fulfill his needs in a way a mere human could never. Him staying here is only hurting you and holding him back from his full potential. Stop fighting so hard for someone who doesn't, and never will love you.”

Aron opened her mouth to retort but gasped in shock when suddenly Sam's arm was wrapped around her protectively. “I love her.”

The memory was cut off by a sudden stabbing pain in the side of Aron’s throat. She yelped, blood gushing from the gash dangerously fast. 

She immediately stuck her finger in the wound, finding the cut in her artery and clogging it. She already felt a bit dizzy, but adrenaline kept her on her feet.

“Aron!” Damien suddenly rushed out of the mansion and over to her, panic written all over his face.

“I’m fine, I'm fine, my spell just ricocheted onto me” she told him quickly, trying to stay calm. Getting worked up would only worsen the situation. She started focusing her energy on the area, healing it carefully.

He watched her with wide eyes as she stopped the bleeding from her neck and hesitantly removed her hand. She healed the external injury next before sighing. 

“Are you alright?” Damien asked her.

She nodded, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying not to faint. “I'm okay.”

Aron slowly sat on the ground, a few feet away to not sit in her own blood. Not like it would back a difference, her clothes now covered in it. She laid back to recover from the sudden blood loss.

Damien didn't try to help, and Aron assumed it was because he could hear her thoughts; she didn't want him to try to touch her. Not because she thought he'd try to hurt her, but because she was overwhelmed.

He hesitantly sat by her. “Is there anything I can do?” His voice was soft and quiet.

She thought for a moment. She figured she could use a snack, but before she could decide to go get it herself, Damien was leaving to get it himself.

Aron couldn't help but silently scold herself. She let a memory impact her so much that she almost killed herself. Sure, she could heal herself and was fine, but it was the principle behind it. One of the first things she was taught in the hospital was to not let her personal life affect her treatment of patients, but now it was distracting her so much that she'd sliced open one of the most important arteries in the body. She was suddenly grateful that she was on a mandatory break.

Soon, Damien came back out with saltine crackers and water. He sat with her and held them patiently as she slowly sat up. “Thanks,” she said as she took them.

“You're welcome,” he told her, his eyes concerned as he watched her start to eat.

“When did you learn how to heal yourself?” he asked her quietly. 

“It was one of the first things they taught us in the med program I'm in,” she told him. “Can't heal patients if you're injured, and when you work in a hospital, that happens more than you'd think, at least at the kind I work at.”

He nodded. “I can see that. It's good they taught you. Was it hard?”

She shook her head. “Maybe a little at first, but I caught on pretty quickly.”

They settled on silence for a bit before Aron sighed, deciding to go get changed. Damien watched her as she stood up and turned to leave before he spoke. “You should speak to Sam.”

Aron froze in her tracks, pausing for a few seconds before continuing to walk again. She could already feel herself getting pissed, rage bubbling in her fingertips as she began to leave again. He must have had different plans, because he spoke again.

“You aren’t in love with Andrew.”

Aron furrowed her brows in annoyance and turned to face him. “Obviously,” she huffed. “I’m breaking it off with him.”

He hummed. “Why aren’t you giving it time? Humans typically take longer than a few dates to fall in love.”

She fought the urge to snap at him. “Yeah, I know.”

“So, there is another reason you are holding back. Are you in love with Sam?”

Aron glared at him. “I’m not having this conversation,” she told him before turning around.

“Diana put a spell on you.” Damien’s sudden claim made Aron’s entire body freeze, whipping around to face him again.

“No, she didn’t,” she said incredulously. “I would be able to feel it if she did.”

He sighed. “Not if it’s been there the whole time you’ve been learning magic. You’re used to it and recognize it like your own energy.”

Aron looked at him wide eyed, her mouth parted as she tried to find a retort. There was absolutely no way possible, he was just trying to manipulate her! He stood up, walking towards her. “I’m not. I can sense it, more so than my brothers because of my mind reading ability. It is affecting your mental state, making it so the lies she told to you were more efficient. It makes it near impossible to realize she was lying unless you were provided with concrete proof.”

Aron felt frozen in place, her breathing picking up. He had to be lying, right? 

Damien shook his head. “I know you won’t believe me. I don’t expect you to. But I think you should sit down and try to sense it.”

Aron rolled her eyes and walked away before she said something she’d regret. How dare he!? She rushed inside and to her room, grabbing clean clothes and immediately going to her bathroom to take a shower.

She washed the blood off of her body, unable to shake off her conversation with Damien. She sighed, he had to be lying. She would know if she had a spell on her.

But what if she wouldn’t know? If it was already there when she started to learn, would she ever notice something was wrong?

Aron closed her eyes in defeat; there was no reason not to try. She started visualizing the energies and magic in her body, her body tingling. She separated each one, more than she ever had before. Each aura was distinctive, she’d never seen them so clearly. She got dizzy from the effort and moved to sit on the shower floor.

The first aura she noticed was her life and soul energy. It was her existence and humanity, an energy all humans had. Typically, soul energy was pure and white, innocent as angles intended. However, in witches, warlocks, and other humans with magic, their soul colors would mix it. Aron’s was a warm purple, glimmering with the white.

The next and most potent energy in her body was rage, a strong and sharp aura that was red with blue tangled with it, sharp like lightning bolts. She had an overwhelming amount, the chief of the hospital told her once that she had a similar amount as a brute demon, thanks to an odd genetic mutation that became more recognizable with trauma. It mutated again after she started to get skilled, causing the self-defense zaps that had attacked Erik a few days prior.

Then there was emotional energy, a mix of colors and various shades. It was smooth and gentle yet large and consuming.

Looking at the emotional energy led her to see one she hadn’t recognized prior. It was maroon, whipping her emotional and rage energy, provoking it. It also had conduit-like limbs that attached itself to them as well, dripping itself into them. It reminded Aron of an IV drip in a way.

Is this the spell Damien was talking about? As soon as Aron had the thought, it began to shrivel, attempting to cling onto the others desperately. She gasped softly, remembering what Damien told her.

It makes it near impossible to realize she was lying unless you were provided with concrete proof.

Aron watched in shock, her body burning in agony as the spell pulsed and wreathed, attaching itself to anything possible and failing. The maroon became a dark brown and began to shatter, the shards fading into nothingness. She could no longer focus enough to watch, the pain in her body becoming too much. It was like someone was taking a small knife and stabbing every inch of her body over and over. The spell tried to stay in despite her magic forcing it out as Aron laid on the ground, shaking and sobbing. She needed this to stop, just stop.

All of the sudden, her pain subsided. She was still laying on the floor, lukewarm shower water spraying over her trembling body. It felt like she was thinking logically about the boys for the first time in years, but…

She still didn't know if she believed them.

Sure, she had evidence that Diana had used magic on her, but that didn’t explain why the boys left! Unless Diana didn’t give them a choice, Aron thought to herself.

Oh god, what if that’s what happened?! She’d been treating them horribly! She found herself arguing back and forth, completely unsure of what to believe. 

It was the first time she’d even considered the possibility they didn’t have a choice.

[ashipiko]

A blur of red was all you managed to see, before a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lifting you off the ground, you had no choice but to brace yourself. Hands finding themselves on a pair of slender shoulders, fingers gripping for all they were worth.

You look down, at the beaming face of Ace Trappola. His heart crinkles a little as he laughed, a joyous sound. Contagious, as well. You can’t help but smile whenever he’s around.

“What’s this all about, Ace?”

“Well, isn’t it someone’s special day today?”

He beams at you, lifting you up just a little higher. Spinning around, he slays you from the left to the right. Shrieking with laughter, you bat at Ace’s shoulders, trying to get him to slow down.

“You’re making me dizzy!”

Finally, he relents, opting instead to cradle you within his arms. A bridal carry, with your body pressed up against his chest. His heartbeat thumping into your arm, a rapid erratic salsa. A passionate dance, much like his love.

Ace loves recklessly, fully. Throwing himself at you, he’ll do a hundred tricks just for you to look at him.

You’re dizzy?

That how he feels every single time he looks into your eyes. A giddy sort of joy, rushing through his bloodstream like pure adrenaline. Great Seven, he’s absolutely whipped, isn’t he?

“Happy birthday Ashi. I love you.”

Happy birthday from this lil’ mage! 🫶

Wishing you many happy returns on this special day!💐

OC INTERACTION EVENT!

“A-Acey! No need to get so sappy— C’mon, we’re meant to party...!”

The party’s just starting and Ashi’s already flustered? There goes Ace, always needing to be #1. Watching from over a counter, a snickering mage can be found watching the two spin around and around... Until Ashi finally gets away and out of Ace’s grip. The brunette quickly runs over to her friend, catching them in a hug.

“Ceruru! So glad ya made it! Hehe, I appreciate the bday wishes~ Thank you SO much, fam!”

[rurus-writing]

Bloody silence

Notes: Those bitches r hurt and homes of sexual AND in pain 🤍I also realised I haven't posted any new writing in a little more than an year and I think that's so funny actually (It will happen again)

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Shou, Qiran (Ocs)

Tws: Talks of blood, non graphic descriptions of wounds, biting someone's arm in order to survive and drinking their blood to heal your wound (romantic)

Tags: @a-chaotic-dumbass @edensrose @eden-dum

Word count: 1000 ish words

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The metallic stench filling up Qiran's lungs was far too familiar to be confused for else: blood.

Not theirs, but oh - how they wished It was.

How they wished they weren't on the cold, rough ground, deep into Nadaka's silent, dark forest, clinging to their loved one's now red-stained body, rocking him back and fourth, tears falling on Shou's face, just like drops of rain.

An huge wound that originated from the right side of his neck to his abdomen was threatening to paint the ground red. His breathing worsened as the seconds went on, whereas his heartbeat began to slow down.

The moonlight did not touch the pair, almost as though it wanted to keep them hidden.

Neither of them could talk: one barely holding It togheter, the other closer to Mors's touch. Not even Nephele herself could bestow him protection, after all, what protection could she give for him? A surviving offspring of both a demon and an human, an union unprecedented yet deplorable?

No matter whether they'd invoke her name, she wouldn't have replied to their prayers. Not now, not ever.

Qiran knew they had to act fast, as they couldn't allow panic to swallow them even more, making them shake and weep further. They knew they had to go somewhere - anywhere else, but they couldn't leave his lover in those conditions either.

When their eyes met his, realising how their loved one was falling both in and out of conciousness,as he battled quietly for his life, they knew what they had to do.

Qiran gently raised the man's head, as they came even closer to their lover. After a moment of hesitation, they leaned their other arm over to Shou's mouth.

"SHOU -!"

They panicked, as their breath increased and so did their heartbeat.

"- Listen to me! Demons need blood, right?!? You do as well, don't you!?"

Qiran soon followed with a pause.

"Then if so - just...please...?"

They begged, as they leaned their arm even closer.

They could see a glimpse of pure fear through Shou's widened eyes, however, when he tried to talk, to avoid the inevitable, he could not. A mouth open, without any sound.

The only thing coming from his mouth was a faint, quiet panting, soon accompaigned by the sound of drops hitting the ground.

He had just begun to cry. He couldn't do it.

Qiran quietly hushed them, as they slowly started to caress his face. Shou had tried to keep his eyes shut and pretend not listen to his partner's proposal, to no avail. His head was quickly brought back up, however their arm was far closer than It was before.

He opened his eyes, staring at theirs once more.

Shou knew that he would have never forgived himself if he were to die in their arms, and leave them alone to sob until they physically could. Qiran gave him an encouraging nod, their eyes trying not to pour as they waited for an answer.

After gathering up enough courage, he opened his mouth, a pair of long, sharp canines emerging as soon as Shou's mouth made contact with Qiran's arm. His heartbeat was now increasing with every moment passing.

Then, he bit It, his eyes closing altogheter.

He sunk his teeth into their sweaty flesh, trying not to cut too deep, as he needed blood to flow from the fresh bite. However, as soon as he gulped a few drops from the bite, he felt like he had just gained another life.

The adrenaline rush made him thrust in even more, as with every gulp a part of his wound healed. He was in a state of bliss, up until he opened his eyes, and soon noticed how Qiran's head faced the other way, as they trembled, writhing in pain.

Shou stopped, realising how much he gave in. The sharp, shooting pain was the only thing occupying their mind, as they felt their energies fading more and more as they felt their blood pouring. They swear It had reached their hand for how much they were losing.

He slowly raised his head, his canines abbandoning the flesh he had just damaged. His wound had pratically healed itself, disappearing altogheter. He gasped for air, almost as though he had been underwater for quite a bit of time.

Shou was now sitting, slowly getting used to his sorroundings. Yet, the same couldn't be said for Qiran. Their wound was pouring as much if not more than his, as they felt weaker and weaker.

Neither had something to treat it, or to wrap it in. However, that's when Shou noticed just how long his own robes were, followed by a quick -

- Slash.

He had just torn off part of his sleeve with his nails, as he was fast to wrap it around the biting point.

No exchange of words was needed. The silence around them almost seemed reassuring, peaceful, even.

"We cannot stay here."

That's how Shou broke the silence, as his voice sounded much more like a whisper, with an hint of worry and agitation.

"Before anyone else gets hurt - we have to go."

He paused, looking up to Qiran. They had closed their eyes, and had let their body fall upon Shou's. He immidately reacted, making sure they wouldn't fall on the ground, holding them by the sides of their torso.

Soon though, that transformed into an embrace. The two silently held onto eachother.

"Oh, darling...

How shall I ever repay you?"

He did not expect an answer, but he was given one.

"You did - you already did.

I would not trade this moment,

this memory,

for as long as I'm alive."

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