#but the way he fell into our laps just tells it was meant to be

[lyssitalennon]

NEW BABY ALERT HIS NAME IS SCUTTLES

[temiizpalace]

☆┊I SWEAR I ONLY FELL FOR YOU ON ACCIDENT..

SUMMARY: he never meant to develop feelings for you, and seven are these overwhelming feelings doing things to him.

CHARACTERS: leona, jade, jamil

GENRE: fluff

WARNINGS: cursing, CRINGE, spoilers for book 3!!!

ROMANTIC, PINING

NOTES: (kind of) based off this song + flustering boys who pretend to not be flustered ever + lyrics in fic not in order

reader is g/n, reader is yuu

🦁┊LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

“one time you crossed my mind and i promised id be careful”

he would have never expect his feelings to be like this after your first encounter.

the hostility he held towards you, he should’ve warded you away. yet you kept coming back. talking to him all buddy buddy.. it was admirable from the eyes of others. if he would’ve known better he would think you saw him as a large house cat (you do). well guess what, he ain’t.

at the start, he thought of you as nothing but a huge nuisance and thorn in his side in this already bothersome school. but after seeing your courageous news during azul’s overblot, he’s got a newfound respect for ya.

everything was fine from then. you’d bother him occasionally, and he’d allow you to bask in his presence. what? did you expect something else? well you’re wrong. but these moments have kickstarted some brand new fantasies for our beloved prince to indulge in.

it started off normally, he’s napping peacefully as you read a book next to him, giving him an occasional glance or two before focusing on the piece of literature in your hands. as we know, dreams can range in a wide variety of things. some can be absolutely blissful, some are really random, and others are just straight up nightmares!!

now, leona had no idea where to classify this one.

he walks into his room after finishing some duties concerning the kingdoms wellbeing.. being king is no easy task. “back already? that was quick.” your voice rang in his ears as he tossed the choking royal garbs to the side, making way to curl up in your lap. “can’t stand these people..” he murmured into your stomach, making you smile. you play with his hair, making an occasional braid or two before pausing. “hmph, why’d ya stop?” you lift his chin, looking him in the eyes. “i’m helping you de-stress.” suddenly, he feels pulled closer to your face, your lips barely ghosting each other til finally—

leona sits up quickly in a sweat, startling you as he emerged from the ground. what the fuuuucckkkk was that????? “ah, leona? are you okay?” you ask, concerned as to how quick he was to wake up. usually it’d take 10 minutes to get him out of a daze! “fine.” he grunts, getting up and walking towards the mirror hall.

“uhh, where ya going?” no response. he seemed grumpy, but you had no idea why. did you do something? nahhh, probably just typical leona. ..right?

you’ve noticed he’s been avoiding you a lot more lately. he will not respond when you say hi to him in the halls, will just up and leave if you see him in the botanical gardens, and will walk in the opposite direction of you just so you don’t have to cross paths.

now you’re concerned. was he mad at you? to put it simply, yes and no. yes because why are you occurring in his dreams???? are you crazy???? smh. get out. he’s the one dreaming but ok

yet no because, he’s no fool. he knows when he’s in love and unfortunately for him, this is love. you don’t understand how much he’s tossing and turning in his room because literally every gap in his head is filled up with thoughts of you, how much this aggravates him because he can’t get adequate amounts of sleep anymore. your fault!!!

he wanted to avoid you like the plague for at least a month to let these feelings wash over, but to no avail. someone just kill him and bury the body he’s hopeless. he cannot wait to be found six feet underground because feeling like this for a magicless human was the last thing he wanted.

that’s it, he’s never gonna tell ya. ever. just him and his thoughts. yep. mhm. yeah.. you’d look really nice in formal attire—AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

he wants to scream but the best he can do is make a cringing face. how the hell do you make him so sappy??? this love stuff stinks… how could you do this to him?

🐬┊JADE LEECH

“one spark, you jump my heart and i feel it beating faster. yeah, it’s too late, im not ashamed.”

ah, love. something jade believed he’d never experience.

from the moment his eyes met yours, he’s always felt a twisting feeling in his chest. how peculiar.. to be fair, from afar you were quite bland to him. just another pawn and source of intel.

but then word began to get out you stopped two overblots, catching his interest. really? a magicless human? now he’s just dying to meet you.. and thank the seven he did. you had him the moment you spoke, your voice causing his heartbeat to speed up rapidly.

after azul’s overblot, though? jade is nothing but head over heels for you. without shame. he’s practically glued to your side, walking you to and from classes almost every day without fail, somehow always being your waiter whenever you ate at the mostro lounge, always having a hand on your back or shoulder.. huh.

it’s clear to anyone with half a brain that the leech twin definitely saw you more than merchandise, making them even more afraid to speak with you! whenever you were jade was like 2 feet behind.

only recently have you started to notice this. so, you’ll do what any normal person would do. ask him about it!

“hey, jade.” the eel-mer looks at you, an eyebrow raised with a polite smile. “is something the matter, prefect?” he asks, his demeanor the same as ever. “just wondering, but why’re you always around me? im not annoyed or anything! just.. just curious.” you stated quite bluntly, catching the boy off guard.

you could’ve sworn you saw him freeze with eyes wide, but the ability he has to rebuild his facade was impeccable. he pretends to think about it holding his chin before chuckling. “i suppose.. i just enjoy your company.” he smiles as you suddenly feel like an arrow was shot riiigghhttt through your heart.

“haha, really?” you laugh nervously, feeling the heat in your face flush to your cheeks as he stared you down with glee. before jade was able to respond, he was cut off by the sudden sincerity in your voice. “i enjoy your company too, jade.” you smile back at him, a sudden awkward silence falling before you.

“a-anyway, this is my class! gotta go! bye!” running inside the classroom, you try to hide the very obvious warmth in your face with your hands. THAT WAS SO CRINGE. IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED IM FUCKED. AAAGAGAGBABABAHAHAHAHAHA

this moment is going to haunt you for the rest of your life, you just know it. while you were dealing with the repercussions of the exchange, jade was in absolute heaven right now. his heartbeat was at an all time high, feeling nothing but sheer joy. falling for you was never his intention, but thank the seven he did.

the day passes by swiftly, nothing too out of the ordinary. as jade walks back to his dorm room, he flops onto his mattress face first into the pillows. an annoyed floyd looks at him with a disgusted expression, wishing this didn’t happen almost every day.

“yer so sappy, yknow that jade?” he grumbles, tossing a pillow at him with force. jade didnt care. it was worth it. all of it was worth it. falling in love with you was the best accident he’s ever made.

🐍┊JAMIL VIPER

“i’ll never see it coming but i know we’ll crash, cause when we’re with each other, yeah, we move too fast.”

kill him kill him kill him kill him kill him kill hi

those were the thoughts racing through jamil’s mind as you somehow convinced him to ride the magic carpet with you. what was he thinking??? he knows something is going to go terribly wrong whenever he’s with you.

not because of you (he hopes), but because of him! he’s a man who’s very meticulous about his work, making sure it’s done to absolute perfection. now, add you into the mix. it throws him horribly off.

when jamil first met you, he didn’t think much of it. you were a magicless human from another world. impressive that may be, that’s all you are. no major threat to kalim, so he’ll leave you be. then came the overblots.. you seemed more valuable than he originally thought.

then came his overblot. in all honesty, he hated you after that. or he thought he did. he always felt this burning sensation in his chest and this inexplainable image of you in his head nagging at him at any free chance he got! then came the scenarios.. domestic moments like brushing his hair, waking up next to each other, cooking meals for each other..

then he realized he fell into the deep end and fell in love with you. shit.

you treated him with such kindness! how didn’t he fall in love with you?? everything’s making his head hurt. the world must be upside down.

hearing kalim sing constant praise was nothing out of the ordinary, something he’s already grown used to and learned to despise. you on the other hand, your compliments send him to different universes. he swear fireworks get lit whenever you open your mouth and just explode all around him.

jamil’s behavior around you was a fairly noticeable difference to those close with him. he stuttered over his words, was a bit more expressive, and had a specific tone in his voice that seemed to be reserved for you. however, the most notable difference that almost anyone can see was the fact that THE jamil viper made a lot more accidents.

he seemed to embarrass himself every time he’s with you, but thank god you just shrug it off like nothing. screwing up was not something jamil EVER did before.. why must you ruin him like this? and these moments seem to just speed by, making it all seem like one huge fever dream that he just happens to remember. he hates it!

now, back to the present moment. he watches you sit onto the magic carpet, feeling the cold breeze in your hair due to the fact scarabia is much chillier during the night. he stares at you from the balcony, seeing as you turned back to smile at him. “you coming” you ask, watching him hesitate. “m-maybe i shouldn’t.. i must tend to kalim and—“

“do you trust me?” you ask, holding your hand out to him. he looks at you, taken aback by your sudden question. “what?” “do you trust me?” you repeat, a stern tone in your voice as you looked down at him with a certain gleam in your eyes that he just cannot resist. “..yes?”

jamil grabs your hand, pulling himself onto the carpet. the warmth from his palms spread throughout your entire body, suddenly regulating the your internal temperature. as you both kneeled on the carpet, your eyes met, staring into each other intensely. his hand subconsciously squeezes yours, holding to them for dear life, not wanting to let go.

while this was insanely romantic to you both, from outside perspective, it just looks like this 🧍‍♂️🧍

“ah, jamil, you’re squeezing my hand.” you laugh nervously, watching as the heat rises to his cheeks. “s-sorry. now then, shall we?” he clears his throat, sitting down properly before looking at you with a small smile. you can’t help but reciprocate, flashing him a grin before taking his hand again. “of course.”

before the carpet can take off into the clouds, cheering can be heard from inside scarabia halls.

it seemed kalim had a little.. arrangement for the both of you. jamil pulls his hood over his face in embarrassment as the carpet flies towards the glittering sky of stars, something both you and jamil can enjoy together.

A/N: jamil bias is EVIDENT (I kinda sorta didn’t go with the song that much and got carried away oopsies)

date published: 7/28/24

© temiizpalace — do not copy, steal, or put my work into ai. thank you!

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

P.s. this is pre-relationship, when your feelings are still untold...some of the guys are still awkward and some are not :')

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐄

Visiting Price in his office was a common occurance. Sometimes you brought a drink with you, other times you just brought your old tired self.

This was one of those times.

And without looking up, he patted his knee and you hesitated. But only for a moment because as soon as you saw his pen stop scratching on the paper, you stalked over to him.

You rest your head on his shoulder, trying not to think about the goddamn awful day you had. You knew John would want to talk about it when you were ready. It's one of the things you love about him. He wants to help you no matter what.

As if on Instinctive John wraps his arm around your shoulder and brings you in closer. Your face was flushes against his neck and your hands cling to his other arm.

John is so warm, and makes you feel so safe. Everyday is a battle for you; because you just want to fall into his arms and kiss him until you can no longer breathe.

But you can't, because he's your superior and you don't want to jeapordise anything.

𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘

Wide-eyed and trying not to move. Even his breathing becomes shallower. It's lucky he's wearing a mask otherwise there would've been a bright red Ghost for everyone to see.

Continues to death glare the others, placing a firm finger in front of his lips. Reminding them to SHUT UP.

No one is allowed to talk when you are asleep in the common area. On Ghost's literal orders.

But he never thought you would actually fall asleep on him.

It was a nice feeling. One that made him giddy inside. Like ... he had been chosen for something important.

And maybe he had. This could be a way for your body to tell Ghost that "I WANT YOU!" But unless you actually tell him, he isn't going to get it - or believe it.

𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊

Warmth travels to his cheeks as he realises that you've practically clung yourself to him and fallen asleep.

He had taken you to the movies because you had some spare time on your hands and wanted to feel like normal people for once.

But halfway through, drowsiness had overcome you, and consciousness faded away.

It was easy to fall asleep next to Gaz, whose smell and gentle heartbeat felt like heaven.

You hadn't wondered if this was going to far, you trusted Gaz enough to tell you if it was. But he would never tell you that.

Because there was no 'too far.' He would do anything for you. He just didn't know how to get you to see that.

𝐉𝐎𝐇𝐍𝐍𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

Oh our sweet boy Soap, he would become so goddamn giddy. His cheeks turn red as he moves ever so slowly to look at you.

Watching movies together was a common occurance. Your place or his, it didn't matter. Even the movie didn't matter - though you both argued over it relentlessly. It was a way for you both to spend more time together. A reason to say why you were late for ___

Your head had dropped a little and his eyebrows flew upwards. He would never live it down if you fell straight into his crotch area.

So he moved his arm around your shoulders and let you turn fully around to hug him.

Your face pressed against his neck, breathing in his scent.

"Tha gaol agam ort," he whispers into your hair. You only barely heard it. It means (I love you).

He only ever says it when you cannot hear him. But litte did he know you were catching on to certain Gaelic words. Maybe not at that moment, but you had better hearing than he thought you did.

𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

Did not know what to do, and in the midst of his panic, he had accidentally wriggled his shoulder. Which meant you curled up on his lap.

"Oh maus..." Konig whispered, afraid that you would wake up and freak out. But if he truly believed that, then he hadn't been paying attention to your friendship at all.

After ten minutes of the movie playing but Konig couldn't stop staring down at your curled form in his lap, he slowly and gently moved the hair from your face. Stroking your cheeks, running his fingers over your nose and forehead.

It was right then that he fell in love with you. Truly fell in love with you.

A monster and his love. That's how Konig saw the two of you.

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈

Charming, suave, flirtacious and utterly awkward when it comes to you.

He makes as much spare time as he can to spend it with you. And curling up on the couch seemed to be the best idea for today.

His large hands wrap around your form and pull you closer.

"Иди спать, малышка" (go to sleep little one) he says quietly, watching you intently as you drift into a deep slumber.

Maybe there is a gun wedged between him and the armrest, but he knows his lifestyle, and how many people want to kill him.

But that is nothing compared to spending time with you.

𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐍

Coughs; yes he actually coughs and a few times at that. Why did he cough? He has no clue. Was he trying to wake you up? See if you accidentally forgot he was there?

In all honesty he was panicking - this wasn't the type of friendship that you had. It was all banter and poking fun at each other.

Someone actually asked if Keegan was being bullied a few weeks ago.

He snorted and just walked away. It was probably the best thing that recruit could've said.

It was after a long mission and you barely had time to undress from your military clothes, when Keegan barged in and held up two family sized bars of chocolate. "As a thank you for having my back out there, kid."

You couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach. But saving face was what you two did. So you took both of the offerings and laid down in bed. "If you're having all the chocolate, I'm not leaving" "I'm not giving it back Keegan." "Looks like you have a bunk buddy then."

And the tall man climbed into bed beside you awkwardly trying to get comfortable. "Jackass," you mumbled. But a slight smile was on your lips. And within an hour you fell asleep.

When you woke up, Keegan was practically ontop of you, melted chocolate on his lips and slight snoring coming from his nose.

𝐏𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐏 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐒

"What the fuck," he mutters to himself as you rest your head on his shoulder on the plane.

You had both been placed on a mission for months and now that it was over, you were exhausted (to say the very least).

The whole time you were together, there had always been bickering. Especially when you were undercover as a married couple.

So you were used to the hostility of Graves (even though he barely had any anymore when it came to you).

Hence, you were way too tired to give a shit. Honestly, if he were to wriggle you off, you would clutch his arm to keep him still.

But he didn't do that. Instead he feigns annoyance and rests his head against the back of his chair. His eyes flickering over to you every few seconds to see if you were okay (if that were to be brought up, he would say that he was looking out the window).

As the time went by, and you woke up, you found that Graves had found your hand and was clutching it.

𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐎

Sinks into you as well. His culture isn't so rigid as others. And showing affection means multiple things, but the main thing is that it means he cares.

Where your head lolled on his shoulder, he moved back on the couch, yawned, and pulled you down with him. Your sleeping head was rested gently against Ale's chest.

He knew about your feelings for him, and you knew about his, so this situation was awkward. He knew he had to step up and say something, but it had turned into a game of sorts. As if the first person who spoke up would lose.

But having you on his chest, smelling your hair, feeling the weight of your body on his, he decided that he would happily be the loser.

[jaysgirlx]

Can you do a fic based off of https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPRcsG8Yu/ this TikTok when Jason and reader was talking and it got deep and he joked about off!ng himself and the reader sits with him all night just in case he wasn’t joking? Please? I love your writing so much and if this is a touchy topic feel free to ignore or correct. Have a nice day!

❝ 𝐈’𝐌 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ❞

❥ pairing: jason todd x civilian f!reader

❥ summary: Jason and you are close, you always have been so close that you thought you knew him well enough to read his mind except you're wrong about that, and what you learn ends up scaring you more.

❥ warnings: mentions of death/suicide/afterlife, reminiscing of torture, heavy angst, little fluff, happy ending

❥ wc: 1.5k

Your fingers, combed through Jason's black locks while he focused his attention on you. The two of you had moments on these where you sat together in a comfortable silence. They tended to happen when one of you was upset, usually you but tonight you could tell something was wrong with Jason. So you kept quiet and let him rest. You didn't know if late nights like these would last forever.

"How long are you going to play with my hair princess?"

"Until you tell me what's wrong Jay"

Again you both fell into a silence. This time it was awkward like maybe you should've played dumb but it was too late night to think that. Jason sighed and sat up on your couch and laid his head on your lap. You tried to remove your hand from his hair but he gave this look like this is what he needed at least for tonight.

You weren't sure if or when you and Jason had crossed the friend boundary. The two of you obviously had not slept together but you had kissed numerous times. Sometimes when he was anxious you'd kiss him just to calm him down and it worked, except for the fact you'd end up making out. Or when he would go on patrol and you were worried he would kiss you and then he'd end up cuddling you till you slept off. The kisses you both shared were like little reassurances of love. Though the two of you never actually spoke about what they really meant.

You had wanted to for the longest time but you didn't because in the end you always knew that Jason cared for you. You could tell by the way he always left you breakfast when he had to leave while you were asleep or by the way he'd walk you home if you had decided to work overtime. Jason cared in his own little way and you take what you got especially since he made the best pancakes.

"I fought with Bruce today, he took Dick's side on something and I just got mad…I know they both care, but it doesn't feel like it sometimes y'know? It still feels like they're Batman and Nightwing and I'm still Robin" He stopped himself from speaking further like if he spoke more, he'd say something he'd regret. Jason didn't want to drop all his problems on you because he knew you would listen and he knew you'd comfort him. You did so much for him and was slightly worried he was becoming too much. Jason didn't want to become a burden to you, he enjoyed spending time with you and he didn't wan to fuck that up.

"I've always got your side Jay if that helps and you're not Robin anymore okay and regardless of that, Robin didn't make you…well you" you say, caressing his face. "You're just you Jay and if they've got a problem with you well then they have a problem with me"

"Well, I think I hate myself if I'm being honest" Those words made your hands stop and now you started to really listen. You knew Jason wasn't exactly happy with his life but you didn't think he hated himself. He was so cocky all the time that you couldn't even fathom the idea of him hating himself. "These days getting up in the mornings is so difficult and a good night's rest…I don't remember the last time I had one"

"Well I think we all can relate to that, life kinda sucks for all of us Jay. Everything we do is out of our hands and it seems like no matter how hard we try we're never fully just happy"

"You got that right, the last time I was really happy was…well nevermind, But sometimes I think about killing myself"

"Well I mean we all have, I thought about it a couple of times when work gets hard but-

"No y/n, I mean like really killing myself, like just putting my gun to my head and that's it." He laughs but you still don't manage to find it funny. "I know damn well there will be plenty of people who will probably find it pretty, my brains splattered everywhere and my body lifeless"

"I'd really prefer you'd not do that Jay"

"Okay but in all seriousness-"

"I don't want to hear this Jay"

"I'd want you to plan my funeral, you'd make it beautiful and hopefully not gloomy"

"Jay is this a funny matter, stop joking around"

"I doubt there's an afterlife, seeing that I did die once and I don't remember any floating gates or firey pits"

"Jay please stop it"

"C'mon we both know without you, I'd be better off-"

"No." you said and it came out broken. Jason looked up at you, you weren't playing with his hair anymore, you were crying. He tried to reach up and your tears away but you pushed away his hand. He hadn't meant to upset you, he didn't mean it. Well, he did but he wasn't going to, not when you still cared for him. You were what he was living for. "No, you can't do that Jay"

He again tries to wipe your tears and this time you let him, he sits up and kisses your forehead wishing he had never said anything. You were his world and all he could ever ask for. Without you, who would be there for him after a bad run on patrol? or when his nightmares would start coming back? Deep down Jason Todd is scared of living, he's scared of living without you. "I won't sweetheart, I won't, I promise. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said any of that"

Now he's holding you and rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. The two of you fell back into your comfortable silence, while Jason made himself comfortable again laying his head on your lap. He hates seeing you that way, with that look of fear and worry. He never wanted to cause it. He wanted to say something but all those hours of patrol and working overtime finally caught up to him. He thought he'd just take a nap, he didn't want to burden you with how heavy he was, lying on his lap but he couldn't help you, your lap was so comfy.

For a while, you watched Jason and didn't know why you were. He said he wouldn't hurt himself, he promised. Still, you were scared because of the way he talked about it...it was clear it wasn't the first time. You knew he had fallen asleep, his tell was that his breathing had slowed. You picked that up when he started coming over early in that morning to nap with you. Jason was only ever truly calm when was he asleep with you.

Watching him like this felt natural like you had to do this. You knew he was serious about killing himself and you just couldn't imagine a life with him, without Jason. Gently you caressed his sleeping face, admiring how handsome he was. The things that happened to him, you knew they affected him but you didn't want to think he'd go as far as to…no you couldn't think of it.

You leaned your own body back on the couch and tried to relax. You'd stay all night with him if you had to, you'd make sure he was safe. You weekend a vigilante like him, you couldn't fight and protect him from villains but you could protect him from himself. It probably seems crazy that you want to protect Jason Todd from himself but it's all you know how to do. You're not completely sure if Jason loves you but you know that you love him.

"I will always be with you, I'm yours Jay, I'm with you" you whisper sweetly against his forehead, before planting a soft kiss. You watch him all night and he sleeps quietly and hopefully comfortably with his head resting on your lap. You didn't work the next day and you had stayed up all night before, this wouldn't be difficult for you.

Even if it was, it was for Jason and he was always worth any trouble. You wish you could tell him that but that's a conversation for another time, for now, you just want to make sure he is still alive every morning.

When Jason Todd wakes up the following morning, you're drinking what he thinks is probably coffee and reading a book. His eyes fixate on you and he reaches up to brush his hand against your face, you smile at the soft touch. HE lets out a yawn and finally speaks up, "Whatcha doing up so early, princess?"

"Just admiring you Jay"

"M'sorry for sleeping on you, and I'm even more sorry for making you feel upset last night, you're…you're very important to me y/n, and as long as you'll have me, I'll be here"

"And I'm with you, for as long as you'll have me" you say with a smile as you hand him the rest of your coffee. He drank the rest before gently pressing a kiss to your lips. Another reassure of his love

Jason Todd was yours for a lifetime and you were happy with just that.

❥ a/n: sorry this took so long anon! I kept rewriting it because I didn't like how it was going. btw comment to be added to my taglist.

❥ taglist: @meowkn, @nia-jul, @woodenanemone, @millyhelp, @yourlocalcringydaydreamer, @kazzattack, @orchidsangel

[kxnkprxncess]

Edging myself to the thought of my Husband training me to be a perfect housewife. I cook, I clean, I bend over on command, I swallow. I had been so dumb before I met Him. I could barely cook eggs. I was awful with money- I fell for the rent scheme, paying money to live alone when I could live with a good Man for free. The apartment I lived in wasn’t even clean. I had thought having a job was more important than keeping a home. My Husband saved me, taking me in and buying me cooking classes, managing my finances, and showing me that my cluttered apartment meant a cluttered mind, a clear home meant a clear mind.

He begins showing His friends how good a wife I am. Inviting them over for the game and having me keep their laps warm while they used my tits as stress balls. When His team wins they get to fuck me to celebrate, and when His team loses they take their anger out on me.

One of His friend’s begins coming over more often. I start expecting him almost nightly when preparing dinner and soon even for dessert where I now start sucking them both of. First separately, then together.

The first time I see my Husband kiss him my jaw drops open and their cocks fall out of my mouth. My Husband slaps me across the face saying He didn’t tell me to stop. They cum at the same time and I choke on their huge loads.

My Husband has me clean up and sit down at the kitchen table. He tells me that I’m such a good wife I deserve two Men in my life. And since I’m only a woman, He needs someone in the home he can actually relate to, especially when the children come around.

This shocks me. We had been against having kids before I became a housewife, so much so my Husband had a vasectomy. Now, after learning the error of my ways, I constantly feel barren and useless. He looks to my new husband with a smile. We’re gonna make you a mama, he says. I cry with joy. Can we start now?

My Husband has me get down on my hands and knees and pull my dress up. He positions Paul behind me, fingering my baby hole to get me wet for my new husband. I’m positioned in front of a mirror and I watch Him get behind Paul. He fucks himself into Paul while Paul fucks into me. The idea of my Husband pumping a baby in me makes me wet and Paul whispers in my ear, I’m going to fuck you full of dozens of children. You’re going to be such a good mommy to me and His kids. You’re going to get so big you won’t fit in clothes and your tits will be so heavy and painful with milk he’ll stop taking you out in public. You’ll be used just for breeding and feeding our children.

He cums inside me but my Husband hadn’t finished yet so he is forced to ride out his orgasm still being fucked into me.

I become a house slave for my two husbands and they breed me daily so I will be pregnant and finally useful every chance I get.

[citrinae]

you have trouble sleeping.

contents; hurt/comfort, implied trauma, anxiety. i’ve been feeling a little off these days so here’s a band-aid to read at 3 am.

ft. the monster trio

masterlist

⋆ ˚｡༄ luffy

during one of his nightly trips to the kitchen, luffy sort of expected to see some additional measures applied to keep him from the fridge, all locked up and forbidden, but what he didn’t anticipate was to find you on the way there, slumped on the floor and with your back pressed against the railing. it was long past midnight. he also knew it hadn’t been long since your last turn at the crow’s nest. 

“i switched with nami,” you explained to him as soon as he took the spot next to you. 

“why?” he pressed on, wide, widening eyes tracing the contours of your face. “is she sick?”

you told him that no, she’s fine, i just didn’t feel like going to bed today. 

“are you sick?” he tried again. 

a couple of beats later, you shook your head, hinted at a smile. luffy was your ear, just as much as you were his, but he was your captain too, and the last thing you’d want was to burden him with thoughts which were likely to crawl away with the sunrise. 

“i’m good,” your cheekbones ached under the heaviness of your eyes. “a little restless, maybe.”

the ship creaked and hummed through these seas you recognised too well. you stared at the sails, pulling at the ropes to keep the ship on its path, hopelessly trying to find the straw hat jolly roger, or at least its shadow, something, in the dark. knowing where you were headed would have you going back and forth the deck like a caged beast, vicious and unrested, but reminding yourself that this time would be different, you were different, at least permitted some air into your lungs. 

then your focus fell to the front of your shoes, and you saw it, a head wearing a straw hat outstretched across the floor. luffy’s hand was warm when he placed it on top of yours. 

“it’s alright,” he said, his voice soft and throaty. “you don’t have to tell me anything. you’re our friend, we’ll be there for you no matter what.” 

it wasn’t like you hadn’t been aware of that before. luffy had made a persistent point out of it ever since the first time you stepped aboard his ship, and he’d kept on saying it, we’ll be there, i’ll be there, with the voice of both a friend and a lover. what you felt thankful for instead was the way he always chose the right moments to say it. a minute passed, and you found yourself dropping into luffy’s lap, arms curling themselves around his waist in a most heartfelt hug. “thank you,” you whispered. it didn’t take long for him to pull you tighter against him, resting his chin upon your head. 

“no need,” luffy said, and he meant it. “now, how are your lockpicking skills?”

hearing this you could only raise a brow. “‘i’m going back to sleep’, is what you meant to say.” what you’d have wanted him to say, had the smile on his face not widened any further. 

“not tonight i’m not,” kissing your head. “and we’re gonna need some meat if we want to maintain our energy for tomorrow.”

⋆ ˚｡༄ zoro

you made it a habit to watch your boyfriend train. for minutes, and then hours, you would sit quietly as beads of sweat rolled off his biceps, muscles tanned and mapped with the vicious throb of his veins as weights were added on. he only realised something was wrong when, one time he felt like pushing his routine a little past the usual hour, you refused to move from your spot, despite the dark circles forming under your eyes and the yawns leaving you each time you opened your mouth. 

when he asked the first question, you tried deflecting it with something clever like the fact that the hotness in the room was your caffeine shot. 

“you’re lying,” he said, tilting his head to the side. the towel thrown around his neck was wet and discoloured. “go to bed.” 

you pretended you hadn’t heard him. 

he asked a second question, “what’s the deal, then?” crossing his arms. “can’t fall asleep by yourself or something?” 

you said nothing. the dimple dug at the corner of his mouth collapsed. 

“oh,” he said after a pause. 

you shrugged, faintly, “it’s just harder that way.”

it was embarrassing to say it out loud. you knew one should never back away from voicing their feelings, and yet, these words felt like downing a pack of spikes on some really bad-tasting pills. 

“alright,” he spoke with so much determination, his voice was thick. soon you noticed zoro’s hands were no longer preoccupied with his towel, nor the metal he’d been staining with sweat about moments ago, but with you, flat and hot around your thighs as he hurled you over his shoulder. “guess it’s time for both to crawl in.” 

the world started moving by itself as zoro carried you up the stairs, and the palms of your hands were chilly, even more so when the strain behind your eyes took to something like guilt.

“sorry,” you said. “didn’t mean to take you from your training.”

yet before the silence would begin to worry you, zoro’s voice scraped the air once again. “nah,” his hand tightened around your waist. “like my master said, ‘the skill of a true swordsman also lies in knowing when to stop’.”

⋆ ˚｡༄ sanji

some nights, sleep caught you the moment your head sunk into the pillow. and there were other nights, like this one, when nothing seemed to do the work for you, swamped in thoughts of all shapes and colours. deeper they dragged you, no matter how much you tossed and turned, or how hard you tried to focus on the nothingness behind your lids. then a meaner one pulled you even further down, quickening the pace of your heartbeat. you turned back to the side, dragging your knees to your chest, but just as you did, a kiss felt its way to your shoulder. 

“dearest,” sanji’s voice was a drowsy breath against your neck. “is everything all right?” 

with this he wrapped his arms around you, thumb moving across your skin, and you gladly accepted it, the care, the affection, enclosing the space between your restless body and the warmth of his chest. 

“got some trouble falling asleep, is all,” you assured him, at which he hummed, still caught somewhere between life and sleep—that one place you currently felt banished from. 

“are you thinking about them, mon coeur?” the movement of sanji’s hand on your skin was unhurried, pleasant. 

you kept your eyes closed. “lately it’s like i can’t think of anything else,” and you weren’t lying this time around.

normally confessions like this one would have rendered your boyfriend a mopey trainwreck, “what have i done to anger you so, oh dear lord, for i have been denied residence in my lover’s heart.” 

this time was different, in subtle ways you couldn’t really place. 

his nose ran a touch across your neck and to your jaw. “let me bring you some tea,” he said eventually. “red tea is best for keeping the bad thoughts at bay.” 

and usually the first thought coming to your head after this would have escaped you as less demanding and more like a thing of habit, “please don’t trouble yourself for me.” but tonight you were different too, face cold and hands shaky and exhaustion setting a feverish fog inside your head. 

you pressed your cheek against him. “no,” you said. “don’t leave me alone.” 

sanji settled a leg over your hip, held you tighter. “no leaving then,” a peck on your temple. “and you can fall asleep thinking about the breakfast i’ll be making tomorrow morning.”

[lualuabestningdungie]

Skincare! | N. Riki

Pairings nonidol!riki x fem!reader; genre fluff; warnings none; wc 0.3k

You arrived home from your date with Riki around 10 pm. He would be staying over at your place for a sleepover. But in reality it was a trap. You were going to do your skincare routine on him.

You’ve noticed his skincare routine was… quite simple. He just washed his face with any soap really. So as a good girlfriend you decided to help him a bit, and bought some of the products you use for him!

“Riki come here please.” You called him from the living room. You had just finished putting on more comfortable clothes.

He walked towards you and sat on the couch, resting his head on your shoulder. Riki is normally clingy when he’s sleepy or tired, so you wrapped you arm around him and he closed his eyes.

“No, wait. Don’t fall asleep yet.” You took your arm off his shoulder and he pouted slightly.

“Why?” He asked looking up at you, and tried to nuzzle closer to you.

“We’re doing our skincare together.” You smiled.

“But I already washed my face? That’s all my routine.” He sighed sitting up straight.

“And it’s not enough. You need to take better care of your skin ‘ki.” You cupped his cheek and he immediately leaned into your hand.

“Fine.” He said simply already convinced by your gentle touch.

You took his hand and pulled him to your room. He sat in your bed as he watched you gather all your products.

“I got some for you. I promise it’s worth it.” You handed him some face masks and a special soap for his face.

“You really didn’t have to.” He looked down at his new things.

“I did it because I love you.” You kissed his cheek. “Now, let’s get your skin ready.”

He listened attentively to all the instructions you gave him. The first step was washing his face with the new soap you got him. You handed him one of your headbands, his hair messily pushed backwards.

Once he finished washing his face he splashed some of the water on his hands at your face. “Riki!” He chuckled at your reaction as he dried his face and dried the small droplets of water from your face.

“Don’t cry, it’s just water.” He said and pecked your cheek before you could respond.

“Okay, face masks are next.” You instructed as he laid down on your bed with his head on your lap. You opened the face masks and placed it on his face carefully.

“Does it taste like anything?” He said while looking up at you. The smell of the face mask filling the room.

“Don’t even.” You sighed and smoothed the face mask over his face. “This will take a few minutes. Maybe 15 or 20” you said.

He nodded and got comfortable on your lap. His eyes closing more every time as you ran your fingers through his hair, making him feel even more sleepy.

The tv became just a background sound, neither of you paying much attention to it. Too busy watching your boyfriend’s sleepy face and him being way too lost in his drowsiness and the soothing feeling of your fingers slowly moving through his hair.

After the 20 minutes had passed you woke him up, gently shaking him. “Riki, it’s time already.” You said almost whispering.

Riki shifted slightly and sat up without completely opening his eyes. The face mask slowly sliding down his face making you chuckle.

You removed the face mask from his face and cleaned off the excess with a towel. “All done. How do you feel?” You asked taking off the headband.

“Sleepy.” He said rubbing his eyes.

“I meant how does your skin feel… but yeah you do look pretty tired.” You smiled and he chuckled.

“It felt nice, my skins feels fresh and smooth.” He touched his cheeks.

“That’s good. I’ll tell you what other things you should do for your skincare. But now let’s just sleep, okay?” You said.

Without saying anything else, Riki pulled you closer to him and laid in bed next to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, and you laid your head on his chest listening to his slow heartbeat. With a last kiss, the both of you fell into a deep sleep.

-

Lua’s note: HI omg I haven’t written in so long 😭 I swore I was going to and I didn’t 🤞 but here I have this cute riki fic 🎀

[stumacherspillowprincess]

How to Please You

Stu Macher X Reader

Don’t come after my life if my writing isn’t up to par, it’s been a long time since I’ve written on another platform.

- Stu Macher’s Pillow Princess

(Let it be known I’m a switch at heart but I would let this man demolish me if he wanted to.)

You stumble through Stu’s house reaching the staircase. You sit for a moment and then call out for Randy, but he’s distracted by the movie playing on the tv and the horde of guys calling out obscenities to Jamie Lee Curtis in ‘Halloween’. You close your eyes for a moment and you feel a warm body sit next to you on the steps.

It’s Stu.

He laughs and puts his arm around you.

“There’s a reason you don’t drink keg beer, you drink the good shit I keep around for the pretty girls, that beer is trash.”

Pretty girl? You think, You haven’t had 2 seconds alone with this man since the beginning of time. He’s so forward.

“I’m not drunk Stu, I slipped and fell hard in the kitchen and my everything hurts.”

“Well little miss clumsy if you need to lay down or something your little boyfriend can take you up to my parents room.”

“Randy’s not my boyfriend.” You scoff.

You’ve been on one ‘date’ if hanging out at the video store after hours even counts as one.

“Like hell he is, every time I walk into that lousy ass video store he’s flapping that fucking mouth about you.”

“Not enough apparently because I’m sitting here with a sore ass and he’s too busy watching movies.”

“I’m not too busy for you and your sore ass” He grins stupidly as he pokes at your side.

You hit him playfully on the shoulder. He smirks.

“Come on, a bed’s gotta be comfier than these stairs”

He grabs your hand and lifts you to stand. He wraps his arm around your waist and grips you hard, almost carrying you up the stairs. He leads you to a room at the end of the hall. He closes the door and you hear a slight click.

‘Did he lock it?’

You plop down on the bed and fall back on the pillows. You feel Stu sit on the edge. He places his hand on your leg.

“Comfy?”

“Mhm”.

“You know.. I gotta ask .. because me and the guys just… can't seem to figure out how virgin extraordinaire landed you?”

“He’s sweet to me, plus how about you show me the list of available guys in our school that aren’t assholes or taken”.

“So because of Tatum I didn’t make the cut?”

“No.. you’re not on my list because you’re an asshole.”

He laughs. “Oh really now? I didn’t know” his sarcasm is all too much. “Wipe the smirk off your face”. He looks at your mouth and then back to your eyes.

You giggle at his frustration.

“Or what? you’ll do it for me?” You put your finger to his chest.

“I could do more than that..” his touches your hand with his fingers tracing patterns on the back of your palm.

His eyes wander for a second but he pops back into reality and blinks a few times. You place your hands in your lap.

“So tell me, have you popped old randy’s cherry yet?” He nudges you playfully.

“No one’s popping anything.”

“Nothing? Come on babe! a girls gotta have needs right? The kid isn't satisfying you in other ways?” He taps his fingers on your leg.

“No stu, Randy’s a virgin, in all ways, shapes, and forms”. You grab his hand and move it off of you placing it on the bed.

“So what do virgins do on a friday night? Play fucking checkers and call it a night? You gotta do better than that”. He shakes his head.

“What do I even do? He’s so sweet but he wouldn’t know how to make a move if I stripped naked and threw myself at him”.

“Oh really? That easy huh?

“Oh fuck you, I didn’t meant it like that. I wouldn’t even know what to do.”

“I could show you a thing or two”.

“You dick-” you grab and pillow and try to whack him, he grabs it and he tosses it on the ground

“I’m not kidding you want to please your man don’t you?”

“You’re lying, what would your girlfriend say about that?”

“She won’t say shit, because I’m not gonna tell her. Are you telling me you’d look Tatum in the eyes and tell her what we did?”

“But we didn’t do anything”

He grabs your legs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. You sit upright as he moves closer to you. .

“Yet.”

“But s-stu-”

“But-but Stu what? You think I don't know what you want? Fuck, I’ve always thought about it.”

“You think about me?” You bite your lip.

“You think me and Billy sit around and play who’s got the bigger dick all day long when we hang out? We talk about all the ladies we'd like to have-”

You cut him off

“Billy would probably win that argument”

Stu stands up grunting a little in frustration.

“You just like being a little brat don’t you. I was gonna show you mine but I guess you don't get to see it now.”

“Wait wha-”

“I mean if you insist I’d hate for all this to be a waste.”

He grabs your hand and places it on his chest and guides it down his stomach to his pants. He’s so hard.

“What are you doing?” You look up at him innocently.

“You want to learn how to please?” His voice gets lower.

“I-I don’t really know what to say, I’m a little-”

“Intimidated?” He cuts you off. “You don’t have to say anything, just listen.”

He grabs your chin and leans your face up so your eyes meet his.

“Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you..”

“I wasn’t afraid of that.”

“Afraid you’d enjoy me too much?”

“Then what Stu? We go back to class on Monday and act like this was some dream?”

“Maybe I enjoy you too much and make you my girl.”

“I don’t want to rely on maybes..”

“You talk too much, maybe I should show you something to shut you up for a second.”

“Huh?”

He pushes you back on the bed and climbs on top of you kissing you without hesitation. His hands find their way to your chest grabbing at you hard. His kiss is rough, it only makes you want him more. His lips move to your neck biting you softly,

‘will this leave a mark?’

You think to yourself. His kisses trail down to your chest then turn to biting and sucking. A noticeable hickey would form, but you didn’t care, you could always wear a high collar t-shirt for the next week.

You moan out his name.

“Oh babe we’re just getting started.”

His hands feel down your thigh, his fingers moving up your skirt to your panties. He rubs the outside of you, you can feel yourself getting wetter at the touch of his fingers.

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm” you close your eyes hard diving into the feel of his touch.

“I want you to use your words.”

“Y-es, you feel good.”

“That’s my girl”.

‘His girl?’

You love the sound of that. His fingers inched their way into your panties.

Those hands.. The way he was rubbing you was sending pulses throughout your whole body.

“Tell me you want it” He gritted his teeth. How turned on is he?

“I want it.”

“Do you need it?”

“I need it”

“Beg”

“Please, I can’t take it anymore.” It feels like you can’t breathe.

His slipped his fingers inside of you. You audibly gasp and he smiles at you. He’s almost proud of himself. They were almost too big to fit,

“Come on babe if you can’t handle this how could handle the rest of me?”

In and out his fingers moved slower, faster, it felt like You could just lose yourself all over his hand.

“You can wait.”

He stopped abruptly. Fuck.

“What are you doing.”

You were almost mad that he stopped.

‘Why would he do that? Maybe he likes the power?’

“Now I know how you like to be pleased..”

You sit up, chest heaving, you look into his eyes.

“Fuck you.”

“Not yet. It’s my turn.”

He stands up and backs away from the bed raising his hand to his mouth, his fingers touching his lips and tasting them. Tasting you. You stand up slowly. Wobbly. You put your hands on his hips. His hand reaches behind your neck pulling your face closer kissing you. He’s needy. You can feel the want in his kiss. He pulls you against him. He’s so hard.

You turn him so his back is to the bed. And push him down. He sits and looks up at you smirking ever so slightly.

“So you’re the one in charge now?”

You let out a breathy laugh for a moment.

“You have no idea,” pointing to his pants you only have to say two words.

“Pants. Now”

Stu grins and bites his lip as he struggles to undo his buckle and zipper. He’s a little too excited. You sit on his lap and pull his dick out of his boxers. He’s already ready to go.

You start stroking him and he leans his head back eyes closed tightly. He grips your thighs with those strong hands. He wants you so badly to just get on top already.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck, you know it does”

His hips start moving up and down to the rhythm of your hand sliding up and down his dick.

“I just need you already”

“How badly?”

“Like I need air” he gasps “fuck”

“Beg”

“Beg?”

He’s shocked? His own word used against him.

You stop. He looks at you in surprise.

“You’re such a dick.” He breathes out.

“I don’t hear you begging..”

“Please”

“That doesn’t sound real” you shake your head disappointed.

“Come on” he teases.

“Fine, that’s too bad I guess you’d rather I go downstairs and leave you like this” you shrug and move to get off of him.

“You aren’t going anywhere”

He leans up and place one hand on your ass pulling you closer, and the other hand up to the back of your head. His fingers grip at your hair bringing you close to kiss again. You grip at his sweater and pull it up and off of him tossing it to the side. You reach your hand around his dick again. He tenses up at the motion of your stroking.

He moans into your mouth.

“Please, I’m not fucking kidding anymore. I need this. I need you. Take these fucking things off and come here”

He tugs at your Panties trying to pull them down.

“You take them off if you want it so badly”

His fingers grasping gently turned to both hands gripping tightly and ripping them off. He tossed them on the ground and smiles into the kiss.

“Oops, I’ll just have to buy you a new pair.”

In one swift movement you grip and slide his throbbing dick inside of you. He’s so thick, he just fits so perfectly. You gasp as it enters. The warmth and wetness is too much for him. He lays back and moans gripping the sheets with one hand as the other remains on your hip. He bucks into you.

“F-fuck, you feel too good I can’t.”

He moans louder.

You place your hand on his mouth trying to muffle his moans.

“They’ll hear us.”

He grips your hand and moves it to his chest.

“Fuck them. This is my fucking house”

“Oh yeah?”

“This pussy is mine. You’re mine.”

He grips your hips rocking you back and forth on top of him as he fucks you from underneath.

Both of your hands resting on his chest you grind harder on top of him. He’s slipping.

“Yes please fuck. I can’t” he cries out.

“Yes you can stu. Who’s dick is this?”

You’re in charge now.

“It’s all yours babe, yours”

“Are you gonna cum for me? Stu”

“Yes, please I want to. Fuck you feel too good”

You bring his hands up to grip your breasts. And bounce harder and faster on him. Your whole body is tense.

“Fuck stu”

Your breathing quickens as you feel yourself getting closer. You feel your thighs gripped his waist tighter and tighter. Both your moans getting louder, matching ‘yes’s and him moaning your name over and over.

You feel it building inside of you as you ride harder and harder. And finally

Your orgasm makes you tighten around him pushing him over the edge as your body melts all over him. He finally cums and his grip was tight as he fills you up. His hands would leave an imprint. He gasps and let’s you ride every last drop out of him.

You gasp and moan as you collapse onto his chest.

It could have been hours or minutes before you could come back to the reality that you were in Mr. and Mrs. Macher’s bed, a party happening down below, and the fear that someone could catch you.

He wipes the sweat from his face with his shirt on the bed to the left of you guys. And wraps his arms around you. His lips kiss your forehead.

“Fuck” He’s breathing hard.

“I know” you smile into his chest.

“You just-”

“I know”

“Goddamn My head is spinning” his hands rub his face.

You both lay for a minute. Him still inside of you. Catching your breath. Someone knocks on the door.

“Who’s in there”

“Who the fucks asking?”

“Who the fuck else?”

It’s only Billy.

“Give me a minute Billy I’ll be right there”

You get off of him and walk across the room, sitting at the vanity and looking into the mirror fixing your hair and clothes.

It seems like he feels your reaction to the sex wasn’t as life altering as he assumed it was for you. Even if it was you weren’t gonna let him have the satisfaction.

“What the fuck just happened- it’s like you-”

“Knew what I was doing?”

He nodded questionably.

“I never said I was a virgin stu, randy is. You aren’t the first to “teach” me anything”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

He laughs nervously.

“Why don’t you ask Billy?”

You smirk as you open the door and walk out. Leaving him speechless. Billy is there standing against the hallway wall. He looks you up and down. Biting his lip. And raising his eyebrows at you.

“Now you’re not the first person I expected to walk out of there but you were definitely on the list”

You smirk.

“I didn’t expect last weekend either so just add this to your pile of secrets you have.”

He smirks as you walk away to join the party downstairs. Maybe he taught you well.

[not-neverland06]

How About a Nuke?

Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII

Series Masterlist

Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The ghoul x fem!reader A/N: @weakling-grace did some fanart for the series that I absolutely adore! And I want you all to look at it. It’s on her blog, or reposted on mine under the tag How about a nuke? Summary: The wound’s infected. It shouldn’t be, but here you are anyway, barely holding on to life. You make it as far as you can and then it’s up to him to decide whether you get to live or die.

“Have I told you yet that you are the most gorgeous woman in this room?” You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on your face even if you tried. 

“Only about a dozen times.” His hand reaches for yours across the table and you take it eagerly, linking your fingers together and enjoying the way his hazel eyes linger on yours. You could get lost in them, as cliche as it sounds. You and about every other woman in the world fell in love when you first saw those smiling eyes on the silver screen. 

“I’ll just have to tell you a dozen more.”

God, you would swoon if you could. But, unfortunately, you are in the middle of a very nice restaurant and you’re sure they wouldn’t enjoy your fainting spell. It’s not like you could help it, he was so effortlessly charming, everything he said with that rasping accent of his sounded like music to you. 

Your smile slipped slightly when you caught two women staring at you both. They weren’t even trying to hide it, pointing and whispering behind their hands. You clenched your jaw, trying your best not to let the anger show on your face. But he caught it anyway. 

Cooper dropped your hand and tucked his back in his lap. He sighed and glanced over his shoulder, they caught his eye and gasped, stopping their cruel whispers. You opened your mouth to try and make him feel better but he interrupted you, “Hey-”

“I told you this was gonna happen sweetheart.” You hated how sad he sounded, how resigned he was to his new place in life. It was no secret that most of your fellow actors despised him now just because he did a few ad campaigns for Vault-Tec. But that didn’t mean the rest of the world did. There were still plenty of people who adored Cooper and asked for his autograph. 

Granted, those ladies clearly weren’t fans, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if you got spotted together in public and rumors started up again. You didn’t care what that meant about future roles. “I want to be with you, Coop, but I can’t keep having this same conversation over and over again.” You sighed and finally drew your hand back to yourself, he tracked the movement like a hawk. 

“If this is too much,” you forced yourself to swallow past the lump in your throat and put on a stilted smile. “If being with me in the public eye is too much then maybe we should-”

“Enough,” he reached back over and forced his hand into yours. “I’m sorry, I’m just worried about you.” He stopped you before you could interrupt him, giving you a knowing smile. “I know that you don’t care what being around me does to your career, but I do. There’s no reason for the both of us to be washed up celebrities.”

“Hey, you’re not washed up, plenty of people still want to see you on the silver screen.”

He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He squeezed your hand once before letting go and picking up his fork, “Let’s just enjoy our meal, sweetheart.”

“Pick up the pace! I’m not gonna wait for you forever, sweetheart.”

You glared at him and leaned on a tree for support. You’re not sure what’s going on. You feel hot under your skin but also like you’re freezing, you’d thrown up twice during night watch and you’re about five seconds away from keeling over. 

Your sweaty palm slips against the bark and you go sliding over. You hear his boots stomping through the grass before they stop in front of you. Rough hands steady your shoulders and shove you upright again. His eyes rove across your face, the muscles above his eyes turning down in concern. 

“Shit, you look like,” he trailed off, “well, to be perfectly honest you look like shit.”

You laughed but it came out strangled and he flinched back in disgust when you started coughing. “Good to know you’re still a gentleman, Cooper.” 

He sighed and led you over to a rotted log. You threw yourself down on it, wincing as it jarred your sensitive stomach. The gash was aching a lot more than it should. 

When you’d been shot, you could barely even feel it by this point. Now the wound was burning, itching so bad you just wanted to rip the stitches out with your bare hands. Your head rolls back and you clench your eyes shut as another wave of nausea goes through you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, rattling like a hummingbird in a cage. 

He kneels in front of you and reaches for your shirt. You lean back on your hands to give him better access. “Stimpak should have worked by now,” he mutters. He pulls your shirt higher up on your abdomen and hisses through his teeth. 

“What is it?” Your tongue is glued to the roof of your mouth and the words come out garbled. 

“Shit!” He yanks your shirt down and reaches for your bag, digging through it until he finds another one of the Stimpaks you’d taken. 

You’d be more panicked if your head wasn’t floating right now. “What is it?” He doesn’t answer you, he hovers the injector over his mouth and lets the medicine shoot in. You wince when he immediately turns to spit it into the grass. 

He wipes the back of his mouth and chuckles. “Should’ve fucking known,” he mutters. He goes through the rest of the supplies you’d grabbed and starts chucking them further into the forest. 

You’re getting pissed off now. Pissed off and worried, you just needed him to talk to you, tell you what’s going on. “Cooper!” You snap, hand clutched over the burning wound on your stomach. He sighs and looks up at you. “Tell me what’s happening.”

“Fakes,” he says, mouth set in a firm line and eyes hard against your worried gaze. “See, darlin’, some people like the men we met last night hand out fake supplies.” If you weren’t so worried you’d be mad about how condescending he sounds. 

“They take empty injectors and fill ‘em with chems to keep people sick and coming back to them. It’s a steady income,” he says, like it’s a respectable career. “Your wound is infected, probably only worsened by whatever chem they put in the Stimpak I stuck you with.”

Your eyes are wide with horror. You can’t decide what’s worse, that you’ve essentially been poisoned and are probably experiencing sepsis right now. Or that people were capable of being so cruel and profited off of it. He pulls your canteen out of your bag and unscrews the cap. He holds the water up to your nose, “Sniff.” You do and he waves his hand, prompting you to tell him what exactly you smelled. 

“Smells like metal,” you shrug, not sure what that means. 

“Infected and you’ve got rad poisoning.” At your confused glance he continues, “Water’s not purified either, sweetheart. Whatever you got is about to get a hundred times worse.” When he turns his back to put the water back in your bag you finally risk a glance down at your stomach. 

You wished you hadn’t because you’re immediately bending over to throw up what was left of your rations. The skin has swelled over the stitches, practically swallowing the black thread. The place the knife went in is red and puckered, pus forming at the corners. The sides of your stomach have an odd green tint that you’re trying not to think about too hard, most likely a side effect of whatever chem you’d been dosed with. 

He presses the canteen into your hand and you shake your head from where it is between your knees. “Can’t, radiation.”

He laughs, the sound unkind, “It’s a bit late for that, honey.” You snatch the water out of his hand and gulp down as much as you can stomach. It’s not much, the taste of the water is too metallic and bitter for you. “The place we’re going, they’ve got medicine. We get you there and I’m sure I can work something out with them.”

You know what that really means. He’ll get paid for his bounty and then he’ll get what he wants, whether they offer it freely or not. “If I get there,” you mutter, still holding back the rest of your breakfast. 

“Enough,” he snaps. His hand wraps around your elbow and he yanks you to your feet. “We need to get a move on, power through.” If you had the strength, you’d slap him again. 

“Here you go,” he placed a bowl down on the coffee table, steam still wisping over the edge. He sat down beside you on your couch and brushed some hair away from your face and you leaned into the warmth of his palm. You were freezing but he seemed to think you were burning up. 

“Did you make me soup?” Your voice is groggy with sleep. He helps you into a sitting position and hands you the bowl. 

“No,” he laughs a little and leans back against the cushions, arm spreading out behind you and pulling you into him. “But I warmed it up for you.”

“Cooper,” you whisper. 

“Get a move on!” He shouts from a couple yards ahead. “You either move your ass or I’ll leave you here, because I’m sure as shit not carrying you.”

Oh shit. 

Hallucinating is never a good sign. You would swear on everything above that you were just on your couch with Cooper. You could still feel the warmth of the bowl in your hands, the old plush fabric of your couch on your cheeks. 

You swallowed down bile and did your best to catch up to him. You blinked a few times, trying to get rid of the fog over your eyes, but it didn’t help much. It took you a minute to realize it was from the sweat dripping down your brow and burning against your retinas that was causing the problem. 

You glanced around, surprised to find yourself surrounded by sand. Weren’t you just in the forest? You lifted a shaking hand to try and get rid of the glare of the sun. He was walking closer to you now, keeping a keener eye on you. You trip over your own feet for the inth time and try to keep pushing yourself. 

“Any chance we could dim those?” You squint and point up to the lights hanging above the set and one of the PA’s runs off to fulfill your request. You shake your boots out, tired of all the sand that’s been getting in them. You understand you’re meant to be chasing an outlaw through the “Wild West” but this is getting ridiculous. 

You’ve done about a hundred retakes of this scene, you’re not sure when the director is going to admit defeat but you hope it’s soon. You don’t know why the studio is even bothering to do cowboy stuff anymore. Everyone knows since Coop was forced out of the industry no one’s wanted to see these types of movies. 

The actor you’re working with this time is a dick. He’s commanding and rude, he’s got no sense of boundaries either. Or a nose. 

What the fuck?

He stands over top of you and you finally realize that you’ve collapsed into the sand. You let your head fall back and rub your forehead. One second you’re on a set and the next you’re in the Wastelands at the end of the world. You’re struggling to remember which version of reality is real and which isn’t. 

“I mean it,” he threatens, “I ain’t carrying you.” Your hand flops uselessly to your side, muscles fatigued and the burning in your gut sucking the energy out of you. The only part of yourself you’re physically aware of is the stab, you can’t feel anything else. You can’t twitch your toes or wiggle your fingers, everything is off kilter. “Alright then,” he leans down and yanks your arm over his shoulder. 

Before you’re processing what’s happening the world is being tilted on its axis and you’re being hauled to your feet. You don’t remember much about traveling through the sands. Everything is one long blur of red and orange. When the air in front of you starts to get wavy your eyes lose focus and you black out.

She nearly made it. They’re only about an hour away from this compound he’s been trying to get her to. He sighs, looking down at her prone form in the sand. There’s sweat beading along her forehead, her lips are cracked and split and her face has an unusual tint to it that can’t mean anything healthy. 

He squats down next to her and debates how he wants to go about this. The wound on her stomach has only gotten worse since they started walking, it’s just looking angrier and angrier. With how infected it is, it’s possible that even a stimpak might not help her now. 

He could leave her here, get the bounty, and go on his merry way. He could shoot her, put her out of her misery and leave. Or he could throw her over his shoulder and walk the last hour to the compound, hoping that whatever they have there will help. No matter what choice he makes, it’s her life in his hands. 

His hand drifts forward, brushing the hair off her cheek and lingering on the soft skin there. He sighs before scooping her up and tossing her over his shoulder, she whines, her wound rubbing against his shoulder and probably causing her a heap of pain. It didn’t matter how much it hurt, though, as long as she was feeling something that was a good sign. 

“Nearly there, sweetheart,”; he muttered. He tuned into her shallow breathing, the long pauses before her next breath and let that be what keeps him going. She better not fucking die on him. He grunts, shifting her higher up on his shoulder and wrapping an arm around her legs. 

He could feel how hot she was through each layer of their clothing. This was more than just the sun, she seemed like she was about to combust. “Cooper,” she whimpers. He frowns, she’s been muttering to herself since they left the forest. Talking about things that weren’t possible. 

He’s seen it before, with infection or rad poisoning, the hallucinations start pretty early. Only problem is, he’s never met anyone who lasted as long as her. She should have been dead hours ago. He has no idea what’s keeping her going, but she better fucking hold onto it. 

You laughed, your dress swirling around your legs like a blooming red flower as he spun you through the room. His hand wrapped around your waist and he pulled you back into his chest. You smiled at him and he reached up to brush the hair out of your face. 

Sinatra’s smooth voice cracked and then began to stutter. You laughed again but Cooper just rolled his eyes and walked over to fix the record. You smoothed out your dress and sat down on his couch, reaching for his glass of whiskey on the table. 

You took a sip, hoping for some liquid courage, and regretted it. You’d momentarily forgotten your distaste for alcohol. You tried to fight the tickle in your throat but failed, you probably ruined your lipstick with how hard you started to cough. 

He walked over to you and chuckled, taking his glass from your hands and stealing a swig. “Can’t handle your liquor, honey?”

“I can,” you wiped your mouth and gave him a playful glare. “That just tastes absolutely disgusting.” He smiled and took a seat beside you, arm draped behind you. He crossed a leg over his knee and titled himself to face you. You found yourself taking a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the question you were going to ask.

“Everything alright?”

You glanced down at your dress and fiddled with the hem of it. “I know the divorce was finalized a few days ago,” Cooper looked away from you, his face hardening, and reached forward to place his glass back on the table. Your heart leapt into your throat at the way he slammed it down. Maybe this was a mistake. 

You know when Barb came over to pick up Janey yesterday they’d gotten into a fight. You didn’t know what exactly it was they fought about, you’re pretty sure it had to do with you. But it didn’t truly matter. She always found a way to rile him up. You’d been hoping that coming by tonight might make him feel a little better,  but he still seemed to have a residual tenseness to him. 

Bringing the divorce up after one of their fights isn’t smart. But you need to talk about this and he’s been avoiding the conversation for a while now. 

He ran a hand down his face and sighed, “What about it?” 

“I was just wondering what that means for us?”

He scoffed and glanced over at you. The look he’s giving you, you’re certain the fight was about you now. He’s never looked this angry with you, “For us?” You nodded and he shook his head, standing up and heading towards his room. “It doesn’t mean anything.” Your heart stuttered in your chest, eyes burning as he slammed the door to his room without another word. You let your head fall into your hands and took a few deep breaths. You knew you shouldn’t have asked that. 

“That was a mistake,” you muttered. 

“The hell are you telling yourself back there?” Your eyes peeled open and you frowned, you seemed to be looking at something that looked a hell of a lot like Cooper’s backside. You tilted your head to the side to find the world upside down and something stabbing repeatedly in your stomach. 

You clawed your way up Cooper’s jacket, shakily holding yourself up so you could stare down at him. “Settle,” he warns, like you’re a damn horse. 

“Put me down,” you mutter, weakly kicking out your feet and trying to get off of him. He just shakes his head and shoves you back down. You let him, not having much fight left in you anyway. 

“Just,” he pauses, “keep dreamin’,” the words seem to pain him and you wonder why. You don’t linger on it long, letting your head hang against his back before the world is going dark again. 

She keeps muttering Cooper in her sleep. He knows what she’s thinking about. Their old times together, when everything was just dandy and the world was as sweet as peaches. Well, he wasn’t some saint back then neither. He had his own problems, vices, same as any man. 

Only difference between then and now is that he doesn’t have to hide who he is. Doesn’t have to worry about the public’s opinion or how his job will be affected if he speaks his mind. Cooper’s no better than the Ghoul. 

He sighs, barely even believing himself. She whimpers in her sleep, the noise strangled and pained. He squeezes her leg, barely even noticing the action, in an attempt to bring some minute form of comfort. She never should have dived in front of that blade, it was stupid of her. 

Course, she couldn’t have known that he would have healed, it’s not like he ever told her that. But she shouldn’t have risked it anyway, he wasn’t worth her dying for.

He can see a large building about a mile ahead as he crests the ridge of the dune he’s walking on. The compound, nearly there. “Hold on,” he’s not sure who he’s talking to but it doesn’t matter. She’s made it this far, she’ll make it a few more minutes.

“Stop right there!” Only one armed guard comes out from behind the gate of the compound. He scoffs, fucking amateurs. He drops her to the ground at his feet with as much care as he can, which isn’t a lot. Slowly, he raises his hands as the guard approaches, the tip of his rifle pressing into the hardened skin of his chest. “State your business.”

Well, someone liked making themself feel important, he was gonna have a field day beating this boy black and blue. For now, he simply smiled at him, unbothered by the gun. “I’ve got a bounty to deliver.”

“Alright, hand it over.” He reached into his pockets and the boy’s trigger finger twitched dangerously. He pulled out the only thing they’d wanted from the body, dog tags, and held them out for the boy to take. He darted forward, trying to snatch them but he yanked them out of the guard’s grip. 

He lunged, wrapping a hand around the barrel of the rifle and yanking it out of the kid’s hands. He tucked the tags back in his pocket and pointed the barrel into the boy’s chest. His face blanched and he held up his shaky hands. “Not so big now, are you?” He kept the gun trained on him and leaned down to scoop her back up. 

She was just cognizant enough to wrap an arm around his shoulder, keeping herself steady. “My friend here needs help. So help me boy, I swear if you fight me, I’ll slaughter everyone in that fucking place and just take what I want.”

He poked the gun into the boy’s chest and he jumped away from him with a frightened little whimper. With a grin, he bullied him into unlocking the gate and leading the both of them inside. 

“Please-”

“Shut the fuck up and get me inside.” It didn’t take long, the kid seemed to be the only guard they had patrolling right now. He led the pair inside the compound and then shoved them inside a room. 

“Here, you can clean her up here.” Before he could say anything the boy was running down the hall and out of sight. He figured they didn’t have long before the rest of the compound was alerted to what was going on. 

He knew enough about the place to know they had a water purifier set up in the back and some odd little ditty they’d created to use water to generate power. Having a radiated ocean behind them was a lot more convenient than Cooper ever would have thought. 

“Alright,” he propped her up on the bed and threw the boy’s rifle to the side. “Wake up, darling,” her eyelashes fluttered but she didn’t move. He used his teeth to pull off one of his gloves and pressed a hand to her clammy head. Still burning up. He cracked his hand across her cheek, chuckling at the way her eyes flew open. 

“Come on,” he hoisted her up and shoved her towards the bathroom in the room. There were holes in the wall, the faucet was really a metal can with holes poked in it, but it was running water. Who was he to complain? He propped her up against the sink and cranked the odd lever in the wall. There was a loud rattling sound before water came pouring out of the rusted can. “Clean yourself up,” he muttered, closing the door behind him.

Barely a minute later he heard a loud crash and the sound of porcelain cracking. He ran back into the bathroom and found her half collapsed against the shower wall. What was left of the decrepit sink was broken on the ground, only the faucet sticking out of the wall. He sighed and looked over at her. 

“I fell,” she muttered, a million little cuts bleeding on her arms. 

He sighed and tugged his hat and gloves off, tossing them onto the bed outside. He came back in, pulling her away from the shower and straightening her up. She clung onto him, broken nails digging dully into his scarred arms. “Come on, sweetheart,” he tugged her shirt up, her arms slipping limply out of it. 

Her wound was practically festered by now, turning a color that he knew meant she didn’t have much time to waste. He undid the button of her pants and knelt down, hands dragging down her legs and pulling her pants with them. She stepped out, hands braced on his shoulders and tripped slightly. He grabbed her thighs, steadying her and stood back up. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stopping her from falling and leading her into the shower. 

She sighed as the tepid water hit her back and he grimaced at the brown water pouring off of her. Maybe he should have let her clean up in that lake. He didn’t do much to help her as she cleaned herself up, mainly just stood there and let her hold onto him so she didn’t hurt herself further. 

He cupped the back of her neck and helped her tilt her head back to clean out the rest of her hair. It was odd, being this close to her. Less because of how stark naked she was, and more because of just how vulnerable she was being. Like a deer rolling over and presenting its neck to a wolf. He could do anything to her, and she just let him hold her like this. 

She leaned forward, clearly tired after moving around so much. Her head fell into his chest and she wrapped her arms around him tighter. She sighed, “I love you, Cooper.”

He flinched, knowing this was just a part of her delirium. Having running water for once was probably just confusing her more, making her think she was right back home. He leaned forward, lips pressed against her forehead and brushing some hair back. “No you don’t, darling.”

There was a knock on the door and he was quick to draw his gun. The door opened and a middle aged woman flanked by two guards stood smiling at him. She took in the gun in his hand but seemed unbothered by it or the threat he posed. “I hear you two need some help.”

“Mhm,” he glanced at the guards behind her but they didn’t seem particularly interested in reaching for their weapons. The woman took her in from where she lay on the bed, panting and sounding like she was struggling to get her breaths in. “I have a bounty to turn in, figured part of my payment could be you giving us a Stimpak. Then, we’ll be out of your hair.”

She laughed and took a step further into the room. He stood up now, gun pointed towards her slightly. She ignored him and took a peek at the festering wound. “She’ll need a lot more than a Stimpak. We can clean her up, don’t worry.” He didn’t get a chance to argue before the guards were coming in. He stepped out of the way as they grabbed you by the arms and legs, hauling you out of the room. 

He made to follow them but the woman placed a hand on his chest. “Sylvie, I run the compound. The bounty?”

He sighed and fished the dog tags out of his pocket, passing them to her. He glanced out the door, trying to track the path they took you down. “She’ll be fine, trust me.”

He laughed and glanced over at her, “No offense, ma’am,” he says the title with a lack of respect that makes her brows furrow in irritation, “but if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s not to trust anyone. No matter how pretty their promises are.”

She gave him a long look before smiling and motioning back towards the hall. “Follow me and we’ll go find her.”

They had a decent set up here. Not as nice as the vaults, clearly, but pretty good for surface dwellers. A decent supply of meds and rations, running water. Everything in the building might be run down or covered in mildew, with cracks in the wall, but it was better than the hovels he’d camped out in. 

They’ve got her set up on cot, a bag of Radaway hooked up to her arm and her hair braided away from her face. They had to cut out the stitches he’d sewed and open the wound back up to flush it out. She’d been patched back up and while the skin still looked irritated it seemed to be doing a lot better than before. 

He’d been keeping a close eye on her breathing and she’d finally stopped wheezing on every inhale. He figured another hour here and they could get the fuck out. These people were starting to bother him. Every half hour or so they would come in to check on her, the women would spray some water on her face and mutter something before running back out. 

He seemed to scare them, enjoying the way they would avoid meeting his eyes. But it wasn’t enough to keep them away from her. Their insistence should’ve had alarm bells going off in his head, but he was already preoccupied worrying about her. He didn’t even notice when Slyvie came to stand beside him. 

“She’ll be alright,” she tried to place a hand on his shoulder but the look he shot her had her stopping short. She cleared her throat uncomfortably and tucked her hands back behind her back. He gave her another long look before going back to staring at the girl on the bed. 

“We have a place for her here, if you’re interested.”

He scoffed, “Room for us, huh?” He let himself picture it for a moment. He wouldn’t fucking stay, of course, he couldn’t. There’s no way, after two hundred years of wandering, that he could be locked down to one decaying old building. Showers or no. But he could always come by to visit her, stay a few nights and then leave again. 

That’s assuming she’d even want him to visit. Didn’t matter, he’d come anyway. But, he couldn’t do that anymore. Couldn’t live that life even if it would be temporary. It just wasn’t in him. He stayed stagnant for too long and two hundred years of bloodshed and loss would drive him insane. 

Sylvie shook her head and frowned. “I’m sorry, I should have been more clear. We have room for her, you have to understand, without a steady supply of Radaway we can’t risk having a ghoul here.” She moved towards her and brushed some hair out of her face, “Think about it.” She walked out and he stared blankly at the cot. 

She shifted on the bed, face pained and mumbling something under her breath. Finally, her eyes fluttered open and she frowned. “Coop? What’s,” she trailed off, struggling to sit up and glancing around the room they were in. “What’s going on?”

“Relax, we’re at the compound.”

She rubbed her forehead and glared at him, “Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

He swatted her leg and she recoiled, “No, smartass. Just relax, we’ll be out of here soon.” She nodded and leaned back against the pillows they’d given her. It was odd, finally seeing her clean again. He could see clearly just how tired she looked. It was in her eyes, mainly, a weariness towards the world that left her exhausted. 

He’s surprised she’s even made it this far without giving up. She’d been dealt some shit luck, but he supposed it was better she be exposed to how cruel the world was as quickly as possible. She groaned and her head flopped forward. 

“What’s wrong with you now?” 

“God,” she muttered, turning her face away from him and shaking her head. He huffed and sat up straight, glaring at the side of her face. 

“Talk,” he demanded, not in the mood for games. 

“I meant it,” she sounded pained, like the words had to be forced out. “I mean, I hate that I meant it, but I did.”

He rolled his eyes, “Meant what? You’re gonna have to be a little clearer than that, sweetheart.”

“What I said in the shower. I meant it. I haven’t stopped loving you, despite how much I want to. I don’t want to want you anymore, I don’t want that connection to the past to constantly be shoved down my throat.” She sighed and tugged at the braid they’d given her. “You’re cruel and mean and, fuck’s sake, you’ve shot me twice. But you’re also the only thing I’ve got left, and despite how much I want to, because trust me I do, I can’t let you go.”

He sighed and turned away from her. She was still tired, still a bit woozy from the fever. He could see the sweat on her forehead again and knew that whatever this was, was just drug induced. He couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her wanting him like this again. 

Being around her already made him vulnerable enough. Whatever twisted connection he held to her now, would be nothing compared to letting her love him again. Two hundred years on his own and she thought she could just come barreling back into his life and everything would be lovely again?

No, that’s not how this world worked. Not anymore. 

He stood up and threw his bag over his shoulder. “Get back to sleep, we’ll leave soon.”

She sighed and sank back against the pillows, shivering as she did so. “You’ll be here?”

“Of course I will, sweetheart.” She nodded, eyes already drifting shut, and turned away from him. He let himself admire her, taking in her relaxed features and soft expression. She reminded him so much of before. Before the world went to shit and before he turned into what he is now. 

He could feel parts of him, the ones he’d buried a long time ago, come up around her. Twisted as they were, how he felt about her before still lingered somewhere within him. But he couldn’t afford the risk that they presented if he did let her back in. He wasn’t even sure she could fully handle him if he did. 

She’d nearly died about five times, most of them because of him, and she’d been up here for such a short time. She’d be better off without him. He walked towards the door, the spurs of his boots clicking against the tile of the floor. He found Sylvie lurking a few halls down and whistled, getting her attention. 

Sylvie turned to him with an expectant smile. “You got room?”

She nodded with an eager smile, “We do. And you’d be compensated, of course.” Before he could question what exactly she was paying him for she snapped her fingers and some guards approached. They handed him a bag that he quickly rifled through. Not only was there enough Radaway to last him at least a month, there was purified water and rations that would keep him going until the next bounty. 

She’ll be better off here. 

He tucked the bag away and smiled at Sylvie, “Pleasure doing business with you, ma’am.”

She gave him a lecherous grin, “You as well,” she nodded and the guards escorted him to the gate. He didn’t let himself look back, knowing he’d just want to go get her. At least now he didn’t have to constantly worry about saving her ass. 

He was better off on his own. Always had been, always would be. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the game/show Fallout, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[syndrossi]

October Trick or Treat Fill #9: Jon getting his hair braided

At long last, the "Jon gets his hair braided" prompt, which I think I wrote either first or second, gets its day! This takes place fairly close to the current chapter, as far as time-frame.

x~x~x

“When do I get to see?” Jon asked, hands folded in his lap to keep from touching or fidgeting.

Helaena had begun braiding a good twenty minutes before, humming quietly to herself throughout, halting only to answer the occasional question Jon asked to fill the silence. He didn’t have nearly as much hair as she or Rhaegar did, so he would have expected it to take no more than a few minutes.

The humming stopped. “Do you want to go?”

The trepidation in her voice made him regret asking. She had been so excited when he’d offered at supper last night, and even more thrilled when he had come calling upon her today at the end of her lessons with the septa. Jon would guess she had few visitors, even amongst her family.

It is not just our uncle. Aegon and Aemond think of her as both a girl and a baby. Daeron is too young. It is likely just her, her nurse, and occasionally her mother.

“No, I like it here.” He took a slice of raw carrot from the plate she had shyly asked her nurse to fetch from the kitchens. “Thank you for the carrots. Did Rhaegar tell you that I like them?”

“No. But Darra says that if you eat enough carrots, you can see in the dark.”

Jon grabbed another slice from the plate and held it up beside his ear. After a brief hesitation, Helaena took it, and he heard the loud crunch as she bit into it.

“What do you want to see in the dark?” he asked.

“Everything.” Helaena fell silent, hands pausing in his hair. “I don’t want to need a candle.”

Jon forced himself to remain relaxed so as not to alarm her. “No? Why not?”

“I’ll burn,” she whispered, so quietly he could hardly hear.

His instinct was to turn around and pull her into a hug, but he was still mostly a stranger, even though they were kin. Instead, he picked up another piece of carrot and offered it, then took one for himself, the quiet of the room broken by their chewing.

“I won’t let that happen,” Jon said.

“It won’t burn you,” she said, a statement rather than a question, and Jon wondered, alarmed, if Viserys had shared that knowledge with everyone or she had just overheard, as Aegon sometimes did.

“Me and Rhaegar will protect you,” Jon said, and her fingers began working again, nearing the bottom of his hair. “What about a lamp?”

She hummed in thought. “Lamps are safe. Their flame can’t reach.”

Although she could easily have meant that the flame was contained, Jon couldn’t shake the sense that she was speaking about the dragonglass candles in a roundabout way.

“Have you ever seen dragonglass?” he asked, keeping his tone even.

“Dragonglass?” The mixed curiosity and delight in her voice proved answer enough to the contrary. “No. Do dragons make glass? Can Shadow make glass?”

“I do not know,” Jon admitted. He had asked Samwell the same once, whether dragonglass came from dragons, and his friend had been unsure. The dragonglass candles themselves seemed worked in a way more like glassblowing than through carving. He wondered if Daemon might know. “It is a dark, shiny stone.”

“Like Shadow.”

“Like Shadow,” Jon agreed. The description hadn’t seemed to prompt any recognition, so he let himself relax, dismissing her words earlier as coincidence.

“Done!” she announced, tying off the last of her work with another ribbon—her eighth so far.

Jon was guided over to the mirror, and as he turned his head to various angles, he could see that each individual braid was more than passable—it was simply that there were eight of them, of varying degrees of thickness, sticking out at various angles from his head. He shook his head, feeling them pull at his scalp in unexpected ways.

“Thank you,” he said, forgetting himself and leaning to give her a kiss on the cheek.

She froze, and he pulled back, abashed, but although her eyes were wide, she did not look frightened or upset—just startled. Jon’s heart ached as he wondered how many times her brothers had ever done the same. “You like it?”

“I feel very secure,” he assured her. “If I must fight, I know my hair will not impede my vision.”

A well-timed knock at the door announced Rhaegar’s arrival, likely on his way back from afternoon training at the yard, and Helaena seemed unsure what to do with her sudden popularity, nodding silently at her nurse to allow him entrance.

“Princess Helaena,” Rhaegar said upon entering, bowing his head in greeting. “Thank you for—” His gaze had finally landed on Jon, and his expression stilled. “Oh. You braided Jon’s hair.”

“Do you like it?” she asked, face so hopeful that Jon prepared himself to glare Rhaegar into a polite answer.

It proved unnecessary. Rhaegar smiled at her, eyes dancing. “I think it suits him perfectly.” He went up to Jon, inspecting each braid. “You have mastered the triple strand. I can show you a four-strand sometime, if you like. We can practice on Jon together.”

Her gasp was audible, and she turned back to Jon, as though worried he might refuse. He raised a brow at Rhaegar and silently resigned himself to his fate. “Tomorrow, then.”

[ai-manre]

Following the Roses: A Meta

Having remerged into the fandom now after a long break, I was surprised to see all the currently prevailing ideas on a lot of things. It looks like the longer we go without the books, the more cycles and counter-cycles of convictions we have as a fandom, as our echo-chamber gets more intense and the contexts that much matter so much in canon fade. It was interesting to see all the different ideas and head-canons of people regarding R+L now in particular (with many now stalwartly characterizing Rhaegar as a prophecy-obsessed lunatic who impregnated Lyanna, with or without her will, and that Lyanna later grew to hate him). That made me curious into delving back to see what the books tell us and try to see where the narrative is leading us. Or maybe, more specifically, it's the roses I want to follow. The winter roses.

**The Introduction**

GRRM does a beautiful misdirection in the first book. Having Ned associate Lyanna again and again with the winter roses in his thoughts, by the time the origin of the winter roses is shown in Ned's last chapter, we have already associated Lyanna singularly with the roses. Rather than feeling the full impact of them being associated with her. So I'd like to go through the winter roses chronologically instead, according to the timeline.

**What is the narrative telling us?**

>Yet when the jousting began, the day belonged to Rhaegar Targaryen. The crown prince wore the armor he would die in: gleaming black plate with the three-headed dragon of his House wrought in rubies on the breast. A plume of scarlet silk streamed behind him when he rode, and it seemed no lance could touch him. Brandon fell to him, and Bronze Yohn Royce, and even the splendid Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning.

>Robert had been jesting with Jon and old Lord Hunter as the prince circled the field after unhorsing Ser Barristan in the final tilt to claim the champion's crown. Ned remembered the moment when all the smiles died, when*Prince Rhaegar Targaryen urged his horse past his own wife, the Dornish princess Elia Martell, to lay the queen of beauty's laurel in Lyanna's lap. He could see it still: a crown of winter roses, blue as frost*.

>*Ned Stark reached out his hand to grasp the flowery crown, but beneath the pale blue petals the thorns lay hidden. He felt them clawing at his skin, sharp and cruel, saw the slow trickle of blood run down his fingers, and woke, trembling, in the dark.*

>*Promise me, Ned, his sister had whispered from her bed of blood. She had loved the scent of winter roses. "Gods save me," Ned wept. "I am going mad."

This is the origin of the winter roses according to the timeline. We do not get mentions of Lyanna with the winter roses before Rhaegar crowned her with them. When Bran looks back in time and sees Lyanna, she's not seen around those roses. When the Northmen discuss her in her childhood, they don't mention her roses, only her horse-riding skills. In Howland's story of the wolf maid, she is not associated with them. Winter roses start featuring prominently around Lyanna Stark only after Rhaegar crowns her with them. Considering this to be the origin of the roses, I would find it safe to interpret that the roses don't solely symbolize Lyanna, but rather *the bond that grew between Rhaegar and Lyanna*. This way, the roses also work as a great narrative device for Ned to covertly think of R+L without directly giving it away to the readers.

This interpretation fits in very well with the next words, where Ned reaches out to touch the flower crown and feels the thorns underneath that claw at him. The beauty of the petals was hiding the "sharp and cruel" thorns underneath which could draw blood. Just like R+L's love which likely seemed a thing of great beauty to them, but resulted in pain and suffering for both of them and all around them. If, as some other interpretations go, the roses were meant to symbolize only Lyanna as a Stark maiden or represent her connection to Winterfell, it would make no sense for the sharp and cruel thorns to appear underneath.

In the words after, Ned describes her words from bed of blood and again, seemingly out of nowhere mentions how she had loved the scent of winter roses. Why was this sentence put here? In the middle of a seemingly irrelevant of her death? Following the narrative flow of where the roses began a few sentences ago, the meaning is clear. Lyanna had loved the scent of winter roses, loved the beauty of her bond with Rhaegar, maybe ignorant or uncaring of the thorns underneath.

>"And now it begins," said Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. He unsheathed Dawn and held it with both hands. The blade was pale as milkglass, alive with light. "No," Ned said with sadness in his voice. "Now it ends." As they came together in a rush of steel and shadow, he could hear Lyanna screaming. "Eddard!" she called. *A storm of **rose** petals blew across a blood-streaked sky, as **blue** as the eyes of death.*

This is our next memory of Lyanna after the crowning at Harrenhal. Ned clashes with the Kingsguard trying to get to Lyanna, Ned's subconscious and the narrative associates this clash against a background of *storm of rose petals as blue as the eyes of death*. Again, the rose petals are associated with things like pain and blood and death. The blood-streaked sky is the background of the war, the war sparked by R+L's actions, the beautiful petals are still blowing, though they are "death". Rhaegar who is dead and Lyanna who is dying, their love that has started the fire that killed them both and many more including all the kingsguard and many northmen here here. (Though the situation was far more nuanced than just R+L being responsible for all the bloodshed that happened).

> "I was with her when she died," Ned reminded the king. "She wanted to come home, to rest beside Brandon and Father." He could hear her still at times. *Promise me, she had cried, in a room that smelled of blood and roses.* Promise me, Ned. The fever had taken her strength and her voice had been faint as a whisper, but when he gave her his word, the fear had gone out of his sister's eyes. *Ned remembered the way she had smiled then, how tightly her fingers had clutched his as she gave up her hold on life, the **rose** petals spilling from her palm, dead and black.* After that he remembered nothing. They had found him still holding her body, silent with grief. The little crannogman, Howland Reed, had taken her hand from his. Ned could recall none of it. "I bring her flowers when I can," he said. *"Lyanna was … fond of flowers."*

Now we come to her death. Ned remembers her room which had smelled of blood and roses. More importantly, he recalls the rose petals spilling from her palm as she died, implying that she had been holding on to them until the point of the death. The fact that her room smelled of roses itself implies that she had been making an effort to keep the roses around her, nothing was forcing her to have them around considering Rhaegar had left her months ago and died as well. (Unless anyone thinks evil Rhaegar ordered his Kingsguard to keep bringing roses to her against Lyanna's will? Or that the Kingsguard wanted to force her to continue having the roses around her? Imo that's ridiculous). It seems clear if we follow the narrative that the only roses these can be are the winter roses which connects her with Rhaegar. The fact that she took the effort to keep surrounding herself with roses, that she held onto the roses *until the moment of her death*, seems pretty irrefutable proof that she loved Rhaegar till the very end.

I have seen interpretations before that she was holding onto the roses as they symbolized her connection with Winterfell and her home. Apart from the reasons I had already mentioned above regarding why the roses clearly don't represent Winterfell, there is also the fact that if Lyanna wanted a connection to her home, her brother Ned Stark should be a much clearer option to cling onto rather than the roses connected heavily with Rhaegar (who according to this interpretation, she must have grown to hate). If it was only about her desire for home, we would have only gotten mentions of how hard she clung to Ned, there was no reason to mention the roses. But they were mentioned. And she did. She clung onto the roses as hard as she'd clung on to Ned, until death forced her to let go. This is capital R romanticism, Rhaegar died with Lyanna's name on his lips, Lyanna died with his roses (the last remnant of their love) in her palm. They died thinking of each other. And the roses, the roses are now "dead and black" just as both of them are.

After remembering that moment, Ned tells Robert that he brings her flowers. That Lyanna had loved flowers (note the ellipses). Lyanna had loved the scent of winter roses, even as they'd brought her death. She had loved Rhaegar, even as that brought her so much pain.

> Her eyes burned, green fire in the dusk, like the lioness that was her sigil. "The night of our wedding feast, the first time we shared a bed, he called me by your sister's name. He was on top of me, in me, stinking of wine, and he whispered Lyanna." *Ned Stark thought of pale blue roses, and for a moment he wanted to weep.* "I do not know which of you I pity most."The queen seemed amused by that. "Save your pity for yourself, Lord Stark. I want none of it."

Next, Ned thinks of the roses when he speaks with Cersei. And this, I love this!! Ned having to confront Robert's love for his sister and all that had cost him (not getting into Robert's vices here), knowing that Lyanna had loved Rhaegar. To see his friend cost himself a life and the love of Cersei by not getting over Lyanna, unknowing that Lyanna had never loved him! What Ned doesn't know but the narrative enriches is "I do not know which of you I pity the most" because Cersei had wanted Rhaegar as much as Robert had wanted Lyanna. Both were defeated so thoroughly by R+L's love for eachother.

>He was walking through the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he had walked a thousand times before. The Kings of Winter watched him pass with eyes of ice, and the direwolves at their feet turned their great stone heads and snarled. Last of all, he came to the tomb where his father slept, with Brandon and Lyanna beside him. "Promise me, Ned," Lyanna's statue whispered. *She wore a garland of pale blue roses, and her eyes wept blood.* Eddard Stark jerked upright, his heart racing, the blankets tangled around him. The room was black as pitch, and someone was hammering on the door. "Lord Eddard," a voice called loudly.

Nothing much here, just Lyanna again with her garland of roses (aka R+L) reminding Ned of his promise to protect their only son. This is a covert reference to R+L=J. With this, we end Ned's POV and move on to the next references of winter roses.

>She smiled again, a flash of white teeth. *"And she never sung you the song o' the winter rose?" "I never knew my mother. Or any such song."*

The next time the mentions of winter roses crop up again is in Jon's story, where Ygritte asks him if his mother had never sung the song of winter rose to him. To which he responds that he'd never known his mother or such a song, unknowing that this song was the hint to his mother, that this song represented her life.

>North or south, singers always find a ready welcome, so Bael ate at Lord Stark's own table, and played for the lord in his high seat until half the night was gone. The old songs he played, and new ones he'd made himself, and he played and sang so well that when he was done, the lord offered to let him name his own reward. 'All I ask is a flower,' Bael answered, 'the fairest flower that blooms in the gardens o' Winterfell.'"

>*"Now as it happened the winter roses had only then come into bloom, and no flower is so rare nor precious. So the Stark sent to his glass gardens and commanded that the most beautiful o' the winter roses be plucked for the singer's payment. And so it was done. But when morning come, the singer had vanished . . . and so had Lord Brandon's maiden daughter. Her bed they found empty, but for the pale blue rose that Bael had left on the pillow where her head had lain." Jon had never heard this tale before.*

A singer and a Stark maiden. The Stark girl who loved Bael so much that she'd given him a son (just as Jon himself was born) and who later threw herself off a tower when her son brought her Bael's head. Quite a few narrative resonances here, death of the Stark maid in a tower, a relative who had a hand in the death of her love. "No flower so rare nor precious". Is there anything so rare and precious as true, unconditional love? As Maester Aemon says, "We are only human after all, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory and our great tragedy."

> But there were others with faces he had never known in life, faces he had seen only in stone. *The slim, sad girl who wore a crown of pale blue roses and a white gown spattered with gore could only be Lyanna.* - Theon V, ACOK

The next mention is, oddly enough, in Theon's prophetic dreams. Again, Lyanna is associated with the crown of roses Rhaegar gave her and death. The white gown might represent marriage as it is an interesting detail to have mentioned (instead of just calling it a gown) but I don't have strong opinions on it either way.

The next mention is the most interesting to me, as for the first time, the roses lead to the future rather than the past.

>Then phantoms shivered through the murk, images in indigo. Viserys screamed as the molten gold ran down his cheeks and filled his mouth. A tall lord with copper skin and silver-gold hair stood beneath the banner of a fiery stallion, a burning city behind him. Rubies flew like drops of blood from the chest of a dying prince, and he sank to his knees in the water and with his last breath murmured a woman's name. . . . mother of dragons, daughter of death . . . Glowing like sunset, a red sword was raised in the hand of a blue-eyed king who cast no shadow. A cloth dragon swayed on poles amidst a cheering crowd. From a smoking tower, a great stone beast took wing, breathing shadow fire. . . . mother of dragons, slayer of lies . . . Her silver was trotting through the grass, to a darkling stream beneath a sea of stars. A corpse stood at the prow of a ship, eyes bright in his dead face, grey lips smiling sadly. A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . . - Dany IV, ACOK

>"Perhaps," she said reluctantly. "Yet the things I saw . . .""A dead man in the prow of a ship, a blue rose, a banquet of blood . . . what does any of it mean, Khaleesi? A mummer's dragon, you said. What is a mummer's dragon, pray?" - Dany V, ACOK

And what a lovely image it is. Jon, the sole child of Rhaegar and Lyanna, the only remnant of their love, growing at the Wall. For once, the imagery is overwhelmingly positive. The beautiful blue rose, against all odds, flourishes in the harshest of environments and what's more, it "fills the air with sweetness". Rhaegar and Lyanna might have died, but the child that resulted from their bond is making the world better.

The Conclusion

What's more, even in the latest calendar illustration GRRM had [commissioned](https://www.reddit.com/r/ImaginaryWesteros/comments/1093bgk/2024_calendar_cover_art_by_justin_sweet/), we know instinctively that it is Rhaegar and Lyanna thanks to the winter roses. Rhaegar who crowned Lyanna with these roses. Lyanna who died clutching them till the last moment. Their son who fights to protect the realms of men, doing the duty of a King without even knowing that he is one, that he is the King of the narrative. The blue rose who continues to bloom in the harshest of places.

The significance that in the text, it's Jon and only **JON** who is connected with/represented as the blue winter rose is important. Neither of the Stark maidens, Sansa or Arya, are ever connected with the blue rose in the text itself despite both having love for flowers. No other Stark has this motif in their story. The motif belongs solely to Bael and his Lady Stark, to Rhaegar and Lyanna, to Jon himself. It's the motif of love. Prince Rhaegar had loved his Lady Lyanna and thousands died for it. Lady Lyanna had loved her Prince Rhaegar and their child is saving the realms of men.

The roses that bloomed for them and between them. That showed how beautiful their love was and how painful. The world is cruel, the world is beautiful.

[petcr3]

dreams | rhett abbott x reader

summary: rhett asks if reader ever wants to move out of their apartment, and before either of them know it, they’re planning out a future together.

word count: ~1.4k

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, my usual in depth cuddle descriptions because i am not normal, rhett getting to feel loved uwu, rhett being romantic because he IS i just know

a/n: this was completely unplanned, i was just yearning so hard an entire fic fell out

You’re curled up against Rhett’s chest, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he idly trails his fingers up and down the length of your spine.

“You ever think about leaving this place?” he asks.

“Wabang?”

“No.” A chuckle. “Well, yeah. But I just meant the apartment.” You hum in understanding, fingertips idly dancing along his side.

“Yeah. I wouldn’t mind living in a bigger place. Maybe a house someday.” 

“Any chance I’m in that house with you?”

“Of course you are. There’s a little spot for you to curl up at the foot of my bed and everything.” Laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans down to nip harmlessly at the shell of your ear.

“Mean.” 

You giggle and hide your face against his chest. He can feel you smiling against his skin. Despite your transgression, Rhett reaches up to play with your hair and you let out a contented sigh.

“There’s no house without you in it,” you say after a moment. It catches him a little off guard. Sure, he likes to think he plays a part in your fantasies about the future, but it’s something else to hear that he’s a fixture in them. Something clenches near his heart–– a beautiful ache that comes from a missing piece sliding home.

“Tell me more about it?” he asks, feeling suddenly a little vulnerable. You nose affectionately at his chest and pull him a little closer

“It’s got a lot of light. It’s big, but not too big, like, you can’t get lost in it. We wouldn’t need that kind of space. Mostly it just feels open and bright, you know? Lots of sun. Our bedroom has its own bathroom so I can listen to you sing to yourself in the shower.” Rhett lets out a quiet snort.

“Thought you did that anyway.”

“Yeah but now I can do it lying down. It’s a game changer.”

You’re funny, Rhett thinks. People don’t notice that enough. “Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted…” Your head bobs a little with his gentle laughter.

“Go on.”

“We have a big ol’ bathtub–– one where we both fit.”

“Sexy.” He can’t help himself. You pinch his side, but he can still feel you smiling..

“We have a big yard. Maybe even big enough to keep horses, if you wanted.”

“What about a dog?”

“Well we’d have to get two, so they can have a friend.”

“Agreed.”

“What about you? What are you adding?” Rhett thinks for a moment.

“Nice deck. Rocking chairs or a porch swing so we can sit out and watch the stars at night.” You let out a happy little sound, and he can tell you’re picturing it. “Lots of blankets out there. You can get nice n’ cozy and I’ll bring us out hot toddies.” Rhett knows he’s not playing exactly by the rules of the game, but he’s starting to get lost in the idea of a future with you–– one that you seem to already be counting on. “The dogs like to sit by our feet. At least one of ‘em’s too big to sit in your lap, but you let ‘em anyway because you’re soft on ‘em.” He smiles. “Guess I probably am, too.”

You’ve always loved Rhett’s voice. It’s sexy as hell, sure, but it’s also unbelievably calming. Paired with his arms wrapped around you, it’s positively lethal. But he’s so wrapped up in the fantasy you two are creating, he doesn’t notice the way your breathing evens out or your grip on his waist starts to slacken.

“Once it gets too cold we head inside and you tell me just to leave the mugs in the sink because you don’t wanna go up to the bedroom by yourself even if it’s just for a few minutes. Our bedroom is big, but it’s cozy. You picked out most of the furniture but you always tell everyone I helped. I built our bed frame, though. You like to brag about that.” He knows he’s right because you still tell everyone you know about the end table he made for your living room last year. When he starts speaking again, he hardly realizes what he’s saying. It just starts to flow out of him.

“I ask you to marry me in that bed. I got a ring and a proposal all planned out but you have to go and look so beautiful one night that my plans go right out the window. I take you out for a walk like I was going to, though, and get down on one knee. You don’t even let me get up, you practically tackle me to the ground saying yes again. Maybe we get married out in the yard or we find some place pretty to go. But I think the ceremony happens outside; that feels right. We make Amy the flower girl even if she’s not a kid anymore. I’m crying the whole damn time and I don’t care who sees. You hold my hand even if we’re not supposed to.” He isn’t sure if that’s a rule–– he thinks maybe it isn’t–– but he knows you’d break it if there was one.

“I know we haven’t talked about kids, but…” Finally Rhett catches himself. “Well, I guess I’m getting a little carried away, there, huh?” For the first time in several minutes, he realizes you haven’t said a word. He nudges his nose against the crown of your head. “Sweetheart?” You shift a little bit, saying nothing. Rhett can’t help but laugh when he realizes you’ve fallen asleep. He leans back just enough to drag his thumb gently underneath your eye. “Sweetheart,” he tries again, a little louder.

“Mmm?” The sheets rustle as you start to wake, the sounds of a slow inhale as it fills your lungs. “Rhett?”

“Hey, sleepyhead,” and he thinks that maybe he’s never loved you so much as he does now. It’s not the first time he’s felt it–– he falls more in love with you every damn day. But his chest is full of something honey-thick, and warm. Your groggy expression is the sweetest thing he’s ever seen. “Think you fell asleep.” You blink some of the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh fuck!” you swear through a yawn. Your eyes seem bigger than ever when you peer up at him apologetically. “I’m sorry, baby. It’s just you were playing with my hair and your voice is so soothing and––”

“It’s okay,” he says softly, “it was kinda cute.”

“No, but I wanna hear what you were saying!”

“You’re tired, honey. Let’s go to sleep and I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“No,” you say, wiggling out of his embrace and sitting up. “I wanna hear everything. No details skipped.” Rhett only smiles up at you, expression growing mischievous, lips sealed tight.

“Here,” you say, oblivious to the fact that he’d do anything you asked. “You can put your head in my lap. I’ll play with your hair. But you have to tell me everything I missed.” He chuckles and tucks his head against your thigh. His eyes flutter shut and a happy sigh leaves him as you begin to card your fingers through his hair. 

“Where’d I lose you?”

“I let the big dogs sit on my lap.” He grins up at you, eyes peeking open.

“Oh good, so you missed the proposal.” You freeze.

“The what?”

“You heard me.” And the smug bastard has the nerve to shut his eyes again, settling back into your lap.

“Rhett Abbott, you open your eyes right now.”

“Hmm… nope.” You tug at his hair but he just lets out a contented groan. He can’t see you glaring at him, and it’s hard to keep it up when your heart is threatening to melt down into nothing and kill you. You think that maybe you’ve never loved Rhett as much as you do in this very moment. 

“Did you mean it?” you ask, voice suddenly small. Rhett opens his eyes, expression serious now.

“Yeah, I did.”

“And you’re not even gonna tell me?” you cry. He smiles and turns his head to press a kiss against your tummy.

“I’ll tell you everything else. I promise. But some things ought to be a surprise, don’t you think?” You let out a huff, but it’s all fondness.

“Okay, so I’m a pushover with the dogs, and?”

“You leave the mugs in the sink overnight because you can’t stand to be without me, even for a second.” You give him a look, but you know it’s true.

Luckily, if everything goes to plan, you won’t have to.

[undercover-marshmallow]

For a few moments, all Adam could do was stare numbly as the crimson liquid traced a thin line down the side of his finger, forming small droplets on the edge of his knuckle.

Was that... blood? his brain wondered. 

Not knowing what else to do, he licked it. Yep, definitely blood. But whose blood? Where did it come from? He was the only one in the kitchen, and he would have noticed if someone had started to bleed all over him.

So where did it...

The realisation hit him like a hammer to the gut. He felt his legs give way under him and next thing he knew he was on the floor, his bleeding finger still held up as if he was pointing an accusation at the sky.

Red blood. He knew what that meant. Everyone did. Angels' blood was golden, hellspawn bled black, and red was for - red was for - 

'Demons'. The word echoed through his mind like a wicked laugh. 

Adam suddenly felt old.

Just how many millennia had it been since Eden? Could he even remember? He scrunched up his eyes tight in concentration but he knew it was useless. He'd given up counting long ago. 

How many of those years had been spent killing, he wondered. How many lives had ended at the edge of his blade? How much blood had he spilled? Sinners' blood. Red blood. Red like his.

He was one of them now. The first human, the once-proud leader of one of the mightiest  forces in Heaven, was now just another cursed soul in a land bursting with them.

"Dammit!" he yelled, slamming a fist into the side of the counter he was sitting against.

The counter shook, there was a hum of something rolling across the top, and then with a thud it landed neatly in Adam's lap. It was a single, bright red apple.

Adam felt a smile begin to creep across his face and then, unable to help himself, he burst out laughing.

"Oh I see, is that how it is?" he said to the empty room.

With a grunt he pushed himself back up to his feet and waved the apple to the sky.

"Let me guess," he said, still laughing so hard his sides were beginning to hurt. "This is another one of your tests, huh?" 

He was in absolute hysterics now, the tears streaming down his cheeks and blurring his vision.

"Just another test, right? This is some cryptic vision, or prophecy of the future, or... or part of your big, cosmic plan, that totally exists."

The laughter died down as suddenly as it arrived. In its place came anger, an anger so hot that it threatened to burn Adam from the inside out. 

"Well you know what?" he hissed. "I am done playing your stupid fucking games."

He glared up at the ceiling, as if his anger was enough to pierce the heavens above.

"I did everything you asked, didn't I? I followed your rules, I looked after the garden, I did what you told me to."

A dam had been burst and now there was no stopping the words that raged out Adam's mouth. 

"And don't bring up that fucking tree, you manipulative piece of shit. You knew we'd eat it eventually, didn't you? You don't dangle something like that in front of your kids and expect them not to try. No, you knew exactly what you were doing!"

He hurled the apple he was still holding against the wall as hard as he could, and grunted in satisfaction as it exploded in a pulpy mess.

"Oh but that wasn't enough for you was it, you sick freak? You then had to go and act all high and mighty, like you hadn't planned all of this from the beginning. You took everything from me, do you hear? Fucking everything!

"You took Lilith, you took Eve, you took our home, you even took my fucking kids! What else could you possibly want with me, huh? What else do I have to lose before it's enough?"

Silence.

"Well?" he yelled. "What's the matter? You too scared to even look me in the eye, you chickenshit?"

Silence.

"Answer me, you coward!"

Silence.

Adam fell to his knees once more and buried his head in his hands. Before long, the sound of muffled sobs could be heard through his fingers.

"Please," he begged. "Please, just tell me what you want. That's all I'm asking. Just tell me what I have to do."

Silence.

---------------------------------------------------

Inspired by this comic by @rius-cave

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

chaggie visiting Lulu's Land could be such a wonderful disaster tho

Lucifer: “What the- oh no not AGAIN!”

Lucifer: “WHO IS USING LULU’S AMAZING DARK RIDE EXPERIENCE FOR SOME GOSH DARNED HANKY PANKY?!?!?!”

Charlie: “… hi dad.”

Lucifer: “…”

Lucifer: “……ch....Char-Char?”

Vaggie: “Sir.”

Lucifer: “Maggie, what…”

Charlie: “We can explain!"

Lucifer: "P-please dont."

Charlie: "We were sitting down, enjoying the ride-”

Lucifer: “LA LA LA NOT LISTENINGGG-!”

Charlie: “-enjoying the ride ATTRACTION! The amusement part attraction! The, the visuals and stuff!!”

Vaggie: “Right, yes. Visuals.”

Charlie: “So we were just sitting there, toootally innocent, and then we-”

Lucifer: “LALALALAALLALAALLAAAA-”

Charlie: “We FELL, dad! That’s all!”

Vaggie: “Right. Yep.”

Charlie: “You can’t blame us- it was dark! Shit happens, right!?”

Vaggie: “Spooky shit happens on dark rides.”

Charlie: “We were sitting in the dark and we got startled and we… fell.”

Vaggie: “It's a good ride, sir. You’ve made an amazing daughter.”

Charlie: “DARK RIDE.”

Vaggie: “Dark ride I meant dark ride.”

Charlie: “Yes, amazing! Such cool very wow, we would NEVER EVER ignore all your hard work just to um... And we didn’t!”

Vaggie: “Right. Because we fell.”

Charlie: “We fell!”

Vaggie: “While sitting.”

Charlie: “Slipped RIGHT into each other’s laps what are the odds ha ha!”

Vaggie: “And hit each other’s lipstick on the way down.”

Charlie: “EVERY TIME WHAT ARE THE ODDS OF THAT! HA! HA!”

Lucifer: “….”

Charlie: “….”

Vaggie: “…”

Charlie: “Dad please say something.”

Lucifer: “Am I gonna get a grandkid yet, or should The Old Mill ride break down for another ten minutes?”

Charlie: “Are you WHA-”

Vaggie: “Maybe make it fifteen before you restart it, sir. For uh. Safety checks.”

Lucifer: “I’ll check everything three times don’t worry! Just hold tight! Cough cough TO EACH OTHER cough cough!”

Charlie: “Vaggie we probably can’t even HAVE-”

Vaggie: “Who knows. We’ve never tried on a dark ride before.”

Lucifer: “AND GOLLY GOSH IT NEVER HURTS TO TRY!!!”

Charlie: “You’ve ruined the mood, dad!”

Lucifer: "Have fun~!"

Charlie: “Dad!?”

Charlie: “DAD- CHANGING THE THEME WITH MAGIC TO MAKE IT ALL CARTOON DUCKS SNUGGLING LIKE LOVE BIRDS UNDER FLOATING HEARTS DOESN’T HELP!”

Vaggie: “Lucky there’s an attractive woman sitting in the boat to make up for it.”

Charlie: “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Vaggie: “That’s okay. The attractive woman is cute when she pouts.”

Charlie: “…she also has night vision, and can see you blush.”

Vaggie: “Well I can barely see her pout. Real shame.... if only I could feel her lips pouting instead-”

-a few years later-

Chaggie Kid: “Mommies? Where do- where do um, babies come from?”

Vaggie: “Amusement park dark rides, sweetie.”

Charlie: “VAGGIE NO.”

Vaggie: “And cartoon rubber ducks giving hugs under hearts.”

Charlie: “VAGGIE!!”

Chaggie Kid: “Whoa… grandpa Lulu was right…”

Charlie: “No he wasn't- what has he been telling-?"

Vaggie: "The truth."

Charlie: "Vaggie. We are NOT giving our child ideas!”

Vaggie: “You wanna tell a six year old what you actually did in the dark almost seven years ago, babe? Holding up the line? For ninety whole minutes?”

Charlie: “…”

Charlie: “When two mommies love each other VERY VERY MUCH, the rubber duckies of love stop the amusement park ride they’re on THREE TIMES for TOTALLY INNOCENT REASONS and afterwards hand them a slip of paper with a due date on it, and-”

[razorblade180]

Genshin Polycule Things

Aether:Zzzz

Amber:*big spoon*Zzzz

xxxxx

Aether:But what if it isn’t pure all the way through?

Xiao:Just skim the top layer of snow. A little dirt is no worse than karma-

Keqing:*carrying Ganyu* She fell asleep on the trip…

Xiao:*takes Ganyu* You could’ve said my name.

Keqing:I have that right?

Xiao:You’re with my partner and closest friend. It’s not an issue.

Keqing:Ah… I wish I knew that. Aether, legs….

Aether:*picks her up*

Keqing:Thank you.

Aether:Does that curtesy extend to all my partners?

Xiao:*grumbles* I will think about it.

xxxxx

Aether:*walks in*

Scara:Well if isn’t the resident bicycle.

Aether:….*tears up* The what?

Scara:!? It was a joke! Relax!

Mona:*closes book* Scara…

Scara:Relax!!!! Aether, insult me back!

xxxxx

Yanfei:Madam Ping! I need your advice! Can you read this for me and tell me what you think?

Ping:….This is just a letter from the Traveler asking how you’ve been.

Yanfei:Yeah, but he wrote “My dearest, Yanfei” instead of “My dearest Yanfei,” with the comma after my name! Was that intentional or a mistake!

Ping:….

Ping:Bless your heart.

Yanfei:Not helping!

xxxxx

Kamisato porch

Aether:*enjoying the scenery*

Ayaka:*leaning on him*

Ayato:*opens door* I’m back Ayaka. How are things?

Ayaka:*drinking tea at the table* Uneventful.

Ayato:Is that so? Hello Aether. Enjoying our garden?

Aether: *20 feet away* Yep! Thought I’d swing by and say hello.

Ayato:Hehe, so it seems.

xxxxx

Waiter: Your total will be 1000 mora.

Amber:Okay. That’s easy enough t-

Aether:*puts down 1000*

Eula:I’ll handle the tip. *gives 1001*

Aether and Amber:….

Eula:What? Did you think I’d allow myself to lose to you? We are both treating her.

Aether:Lose t- I paid the tab! I would’ve let you spend 600 while I gave 500 mora!

Eula:…These are the type conversations that should be discussed beforehand!

Amber:Frankly, I’m just happy you both agreed to this. *smiles* I like this quality time. *holds their hand*

Eula and Amber: *silently bashful*

xxxxx

Aether:Zzzz

Scaramouche:Zzzzz

Mona:*in the middle*….(Why do they insist on me in the middle when one of them will never to pee!!!)

xxxxx

Aether:*starting a fire*

Charlotte:*focuses lens*

Aether:Uh is this really picture worthy?

Charlotte:I’m just testing out my new zoom function.

Aether:So what, the focus is on my hands?

Charlotte:Uh huh. *zooms in on crop top*

xxxxx

Furina:*head on his lap* Aether?

Aether:*playing with her hair* What’s up?

Furina:Is this what healing feels like?

Aether:I’d like to think so. If not, then we’ll find another way.

Furina:Hmm *closes eyes* This is perfect.

xxxxxx

Tighnari:Welcome to the seminar on proper forest travel. Everyone, find a seat.

Aether:*sits on a chair*

Nilou:*sits in his lap*

Collei:*red* N-Nilou? I think there’s a few more chairs.

Nilou:I saw, but all Tighnari said was to find a seat. Someone else can have the chair.

Cyno:You make a compelling argument, but I’m that’s not what Tighnari-

Candace:*sits on Cyno’s lap*

Cyno:Please begin whenever you’re ready.

Tighnari:This is not what I meant when I said “bring a friend.”

xxxxxx

Aether:Do you ever wonder what Kokomi writes about in her diary?

Gorou:Not really. It’s her business.

Aether:Yeah, you’re right.

……

Aether and Gorou:(I can’t let him know she’s let me read the pages about him.)

xxxxx

Aether:Paimon, I’m going on a date. I already made your lunch and dinner.

Paimon:Tell Keqing hello for Paimon.

Aether:…How’d you know it was Keqing?

Paimon:You woke up ten minutes earlier than usual and got a head start on commissions. Now you’re leaving after chores and your braid redone.

Aether:….

Aether:Can you not watch me so keenly?

Paimon:Nope.

[fakeuwus]

UNDERSTAND | CHAPTER 4: u mean *OUR girlfriend

warnings: cursing, lowercase intended

word count: ~1.2k

“right this way ma’am.” you follow a producer through a park located by the han river. it was a gorgeous day outside, perfect for whatever was planned for you and this mystery date. “are you nervous?” the producer asks you with a smile. all you can do is put your best idol face on and tell him that you’re excited.

it wasn’t a complete lie but you weren't exactly sure what you were feeling at the moment. a bundle of nerves, anticipation, and anxiety were all jumbled in the pit of your stomach. in just a few short minutes, you were finally going to meet your “husband.” what if you said something stupid? what if you tripped over your own feet and fell on your face? your career would be over before it’s even gotten started, you think to yourself.

running our hands over your light purple dress, you focus on smoothing out any wrinkles as a way to de-stress. first impressions meant a lot to you and you couldn’t have anything out of place, especially if your partner was cute (which you really hope he is). when there were no more wrinkles in sight, you were stopped by the producers. “alright, when we say action just keep walking and act as natural as possible? got it?” you simply nod your head and get yourself ready to film. you should be used to the cameras at this point, but it always takes a bit of time to adjust.

once the cameras start rolling, you continue walking and spot bright, pink bows wrapped around the trees. you look at the crew with a confused smile. they gesture for you to keep going, so you follow the trail of trees with the cute bows. the decor eventually leads you to an open area with a blanket on the ground, holding an assortment of snacks and foods. you sit on a cushion and take a moment to look at everything laid out before you

you’ve been on many picnics before with your members but none as extravagant as this one. the white blanket and pillows are the softest you’ve ever felt and there are so, so many types of foods displayed that must’ve cost a pretty penny. perks of having a production crew funding your dates you guess.

from behind you, jay slowly walks up with the big bouquet in his hands. though no one could tell, jay was just as nervous as you were. he makes himself believe it’s because he’s afraid you wouldn’t like what he planned. did he go too simple? were you one for more fancier meals? he thinks it's just the pressure of the date turning out well for the views and he’s definitely not nervous about who you could be. no, he doesn’t care at all. he just needs to get through this first filming so he can go back to the dorms to play games with his members.

at this point, jay is so close, but you have no clue since you’re still admiring everything around you. you swear you could hear the staff giggling in the distance but before you could question it, someone’s arms wrap around you while setting a bouquet of white flowers on your lap. a gasp leaves your lips and you turn around, finally seeing the face of your husband for the first time.

park jongseong. your pretend husband for the next couple of months is no other than park. jongseong. realizing you haven’t moved in what felt like an eternity, you quickly stand up making sure to bow to him. even though you’re internally freaking out, you don’t forget your manners (you also don’t forget how disastrous it would be for a rookie idol getting caught not respecting their senior.) “uhh hi. I’m park jongseong, but you can call me jay.” his hand reaches for yours to give a firm handshake and your skin becomes hot by this little interaction. your brain is short circuiting because what the fuck? THE park jay not only touched your hand but also had his arms wrapped around you? yeah, you definitely weren’t surviving the day.

affter getting over your mental breakdown, you finally find the words to introduce yourself. “hi! i’m yn. thanks for the flowers by the way, they’re beautiful.” jay doesn’t miss the wide smile adorning your lips and he mentally thanks heeseung for the suggestion. “well shall we?” he gestures for you two to sit down and start eating the picnic food. there’s an awkward yet comforting silence in the air as you guys are enjoying the delicious treats the crew prepared.

jay notices how every two minutes you have to adjust the bag on your lap that’s covering your legs. stupid, stupid, stupid he thinks to himself. he hated that his idea of a picnic could’ve made you even a little uncomfortable in your pretty dress. he moves to take his jacket off and drapes it over to cover you and for the second time today, jay’s actions surprise you. the kind gesture makes your heart swell and you can’t help but blush.

“so…”

“so…”

“this is kind of awkward, isn’t it?” you ask with a nervous laugh. “ i mean yeah, but don’t first dates always start out like this?” you nod your head and look away for a moment, spotting both of your managers taking photos of you guys. putting your attention back on jay, you shrug your shoulders. “I wouldn’t know i’ve never been on one.” when jay says he hasn’t been on one as well, you feel yourself relax. It comforts you that you both don't know what the hell you’re doing here.

after that exchange you find it quite easy to converse with jay. you match each other’s energies, quickly becoming comfortable enough to tease one another. the two of you start getting to know each other better with topics ranging from trainee days to what your personality types are.

a little later you express how it’d be a nice day to take pictures but your phone had died on the way there. upon hearing that, jay surprises you for a third time, offering to take pictures for you on his phone. “we have to exchange contacts anyways so i’ll send them to you. it’s no biggie.”

jay wishes he got a staff member or manager to take pictures of you because he’s finding it really hard to complete this simple task. taking pictures is like second nature to him but suddenly he can’t bring himself to focus. not when you’re standing right in front of him looking so pretty while posing with the flowers HE got for you. pretty? did he just call you pretty? he won’t lie to himself. you’re a gorgeous woman, anyone would be blind to not see that. he pushes those thoughts to the back of his head, leaving them to deal with later.

“and cut! okay good job guys. we’ll see you next time.” the producer’s voice rings in your ears and you’re reminded that this whole time you were filming. the awkward energy between you and jay returns and you’re not sure what to do next. “thanks for everything jay. i really enjoyed myself today.”

“it was my pleasure, really. i had a lot of fun too. i’ll text you the pictures later, yeah?” you two bid each other goodbye and as you’re walking back to the van your manager nudges your shoulder. “so, jay huh?” you playfully roll your eyes at his statement and try to fight the smile creeping onto your lips.

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MESSAGE FROM NIC: ahh they finally met!! im not too good with my writing yet so hopefully this was decent enough 😣 as always, feedback is appreciated! love u guys 🫶🏼

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