#but they asked again and said i was 'the only one who can help'

[sweetshuga]

MS ✰ String you out ✧ CS

───~𓆩♡𓆪~───

Warnings⚠︎ Smut!, Suggestive remarks!, strong language!, threesome!, size kink, lowkey breeding kink, pet names, p in v, dp, unprotected sex (do not), oral (m! receiving), squirting, vibe, slight intoxication (but full consent), etc.

Word count. 3k

Note. English is not my first language! Not proofread!

Psa. Matt refers to reader as "pretty" and Chris refers to reader as "ma", just so you don't get confused with the dialogues.

Sum. Everything goes south when you show up at the campus Halloween party in a tiny black witch costume; becoming their prey for the night.

You weren’t prepared when your best friend came knocking at your door with a big duffle bag, trying to convince you to come to the annual Halloween party, but you had already decided to stay in your dorm room and continue doing your assignments.

"C’mon, don’t be like that, I even bought us matching costumes," she stepped inside, letting you close the door behind her. "I can help you do your make-up, please?" Your friend begged, plopping down on your bed. You sighed and rubbed your temple, "I told you already, I’m not going, that Halloween party will probably be just like a frat one and you know how I am about frat parties."

Your friend crossed her arms with raised eyebrows, "no, it won’t be like a frat party, but I guess there’ll be those fraternity guys there since you know... Campus party, everyone’s gonna be there–" you cut her off, "except for me," causing her to collapse back onto your bed.

"Pretty please?" She pleaded again, jutting her bottom lip out dramatically, making you laugh. "No, like I said–" she cut you off with a groan, "c’mooon, Halloween happens only once a year..." her voice trailed off as a grin made its way onto her lips, "if you go this once, I won’t bug you again, like I promise I won’t ask you to come to frat parties with me."

You couldn’t help but be tempted with the deal, clearing your throat as you looked at her, "you serious?" She nodded vigorously, "yeah, I am, I am dead serious, so? will you?" You sighed and nodded, eliciting a happy "yay" from her.

She immediately spilled the contents from her huge duffel bag, tons of make-up products and two matching witch costumes. You picked one up, inspecting it. The costume was incredibly short and could almost pass off as a long shirt.

"Are you serious? This is what you picked?" She gave you a deadpanned look, "it’s Halloween! You know what they say, the only time of the year to be as slutty as you want." She nudged your arm, grinning, "plus I bet guys would go nuts when they see you in this."

𓆩♡𓆪

Your friend helped you with your make-up, and as you looked in the mirror, you felt like you were someone else, in a good way. The costume was short, but it made you feel a bit more confident than usual. The black heel boots you had lying around – that you’ve been wanting to wear for so long – seemed to match the vibe of the dress.

The long sleeves and overall style of the costume had already started to grow on you. "Not too bad," you said as you curled your hair, "yeah? told you so," your friend grinned triumphantly, making you roll your eyes in a playful manner.

The moment you arrived at the party, your ears immediately rang at the loud music, "fuck, why is it so loud here?" you shouted to your friend, trying to get your words across the short distance, but the music drowned out your voice.

"It’s always this loud, you’re just not used to it, c’mon, let’s get drinks!" She dragged you towards the table of drinks, expertly weaving through the crowd. Alcohols that you didn’t even know the names of were stacked in an oddly neat way along with soft drinks, water and way too many solo cups.

A girl standing by the table, dressed as the grinch, offered to make you and your friend drinks, halloween specials. As you were sipping on your drink, you noticed a pair of guys, almost identical looking.

"Holy fuck, you know who they are?" you nudged your friend, jerking your head at the direction of the guys dressed as vampires. She followed your gaze and looked at them, "yeah?" she chuckled, "you don’t?" Shaking your head as you kept your gaze on the guys, unable to take it off of them.

"Of course you don’t, you’re always buried in schoolwork," she clicked her tongue, "they’re quite famous around campus you know?" You let out a huff, taking another big gulp of your drink, groaning at the burn of the mixed alcohols. "So? Who are they?"

"The one with the cap is Chris and the one that doesn’t have a cap is Matt, obviously, they’re identical triplets, but I don’t think Nick’s here today." You let out an "oh" sound of understanding before you took another sip of your drink.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl," your friend shrugged, telling you all she knew about them, "yeah... couldn’t care less, c’mon let’s just dance or something," you said pulling your friend away from the table of drinks and onto the dance floor. You couldn’t help but feel interested despite your words.

After one too many drinks and a few stolen glances later, you found yourself in a bathroom, two pairs of hands roaming over your body while you shared a kiss with one of the guys—the one with the cap.

The other one kissed your neck, trailing it down to your collarbone and leaving love bites there before going back to your neck. The one with the cap broke the kiss, "you know our names ma?" He breathed out, "uh... you’re Chris, and he’s Matt, right?" you asked hesitantly, the slight intoxication making your mind a jumbled up mess.

"Mhm—bingo, pretty," Matt whispered, his lips grazing just under your earlobe, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as they continued to kiss and caress your body, your body reacting to every word and touch from them, making their faces light up with smirks.

Their fake fangs nipped at your skin, causing you to gasp softly each time. "Say, let’s go to a more comfortable place?" Chris suggested, "Yeah, can’t really do much in a bathroom," Matt chuckled as he added.

They led you out of the bathroom and weaved through the crowd of people dancing. You tried to find your friend to tell her you were going but you couldn't find her in the crowd. Suddenly, you got a message and a photo from her apologizing saying that she was gonna head home with her boyfriend since it was getting late. How convenient.

You sighed and let the guys lead you out of the party, your costume rode up ever so slightly as you tried to balance on the heel boots in your slightly tipsy state. You were very much aware of your surroundings and the two fellas, dressed as vampires, leading you towards their car.

"Where are we going?" You asked, a bit puzzled but willing. Matt and Chris both chuckled in unison at your confused state, "oh yeah, we’re gonna go to our place, you mind?" Chris asked as he looked back at you, "I mean, if you don’t feel comfortable with that, we could always hit up a hotel," Matt shrugged.

You hummed, looking back and forth between them before making your decision, "no, yeah, i’m good with your place," they both visibly relaxed and grinned, "alright then, hop in, pretty," Matt said as he opened the backseat door.

𓆩♡𓆪

The drive to their place was fairly fast, accompanied by small talks and laughter, but that quickly turned into heated kisses and breathy moans once you got inside their house. Stumbling into one of their rooms, they started to strip you out of the skimpy costume.

Gently pushing you on the bed before they started to strip themselves, your gaze raked over their bodies as you waited on the bed, biting your lip in anticipation. Once they were matching you in nakedness, they sat on either side of you, starting to lavish attention to your body once again.

"Fuck, you’re so beautiful ma, so fucking beautiful," Chris murmured against the swell of your breast, "mhm... so pretty" Matt whispered an agreement in your ear before kissing along your jawline, his hand caressing your body, slowing inching down to cup your mound.

You hissed softly when his fingers made in contact with your swollen clit, slick with arousal, and throbbing for attention. The brothers quickly picked up on your growing need and desperation as they saw just how wet you had become.

Your folds glistened in the dim light of the bedside lamp, the obvious need evident in your tone when Chris plunged a finger inside your tight heat. "Fu—ck," you moaned softly, your breathing a lot more ragged now that he was moving his digit in and out of you, slipping in a second finger and smirking at how you seemed to suck in his fingers.

"Someone’s eager," Matt chuckled, his voice a bit deeper than usual, betraying his arousal. The pads of his fingers started to circle your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting slightly louder moans from you.

The feeling was already so pleasurable, and you didn’t know if it was the alcohol making you feel more than usual or just the brothers themselves, either way you knew you were incredibly turned on.

They adjusted your position, easily manhandling you, but their touch was gentle– almost tender if you will. The new position gave them more to work with. You were on your hands and knees and they stood on their knees on either side of you, still squeezing and caressing every inch of skin they could touch.

They were big – huge even – it made you feel a bit nervous. They were easily 10", and who knows how thick, standing tall and proud. You gulped softly when Chris gripped your hip with one hand and led his length towards your aching pussy. The tip of his cock slid up and down your slit, making you whine and push back against him.

They chuckled at your needy gestures and sounds, "you’re so responsive ma, ’s intoxicating," Chris emphasized his words with a slap on your ass, causing you to jolt and whine, his hand gently caressing the reddening skin.

Matt, being the one in front of you, caressed your cheek and made you look up at him by lifting your face by your jaw. Smirking when he saw the desperation in your eyes, "what’s up pretty? Can’t handle a little teasing?" He spoke with faux sympathy, making you all the more desperate.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, you felt the sudden stretch, causing you to move forward—trying to get away from the sensation, only to be held in place by two pairs of hands. Chris clicked his tongue, "relax ma," his hands squeezed your ass, sinking his fingers in your plush flesh as he moved forward, filling you completely.

"Oh fu—ck, Chris too big–" your moans got muffled when Matt fed you his length, groaning at the sensation of your mouth on him and the vibrations from your moans as Chris took you from behind.

Chris’ pupils dilated when he saw the way your ass recoiled against his hips with each deep and slow thrust, he gripped your hips tighter and surged forward with increasing fervor. The force of it pushed you forward, each thrust making you involuntarily deepthroat Matt, making them both groan at the pleasure.

Chris suddenly pulled out, and stood up, "I think I’ve got something nice." Matt chuckled when he understood what Chris implied and pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop. You looked at them confused, feeling empty and still aching with need.

A few minutes later, Chris came back with a vibrator and a bottle of lube in hand. You blinked rapidly as your gaze flickered between the brothers, making them chuckle, "don’t worry pretty, we’ll make you feel good, ’promise." Chris sat on the bed behind you, getting in position again.

"Alright ma, up," he playfully slapped your ass before helping you back in the position you were in moments ago, but this time you were facing Chris with Matt behind you. Your moans filled the room once again when Matt entered you, stretching you deliciously.

Your moans were quickly muffled by Chris’ cock, which you eagerly let in your mouth, and the pleasure was already bordering on too much. Your body tensed when you felt vibrations on your clit. Matt groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him like a vice, his hips picking up pace in response.

Your moans vibrated around Chris’ shaft, making him buck his hips faster, fucking your mouth as he gripped your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your eyes rolled back briefly as Matt hit that spot deep within you, the one that made sparks dance behind your eyes, the one that made you moan louder.

The vibrations of the vibe increased, making your legs shake as you tried to ground yourself from the intense pleasure that you wondered if you could take any more of. That was when Matt held you by your waist and started to target a specific spot—your g-spot.

The feeling of him hitting your g-spot with such precision and the vibrator doing its job on your throbbing clit, made you squirm, trying to get away from the intensity of it all, but their hands kept you in place. With a loud muffled moan you squirted, unable to warn them due to Chris’ cock in your mouth. The brothers let out breathy chuckles when they saw the mess you were making, but didn’t stop nevertheless.

They followed you soon after, their releases filling up your holes. You couldn’t even keep yourself steady on your legs and arms anymore, it was all threatening to buckle under you any second.

Carefully, they laid you down, and seeing the wrecked state you were in just seemed to fuel their desires further. Their semi-hard lengths hardened once more as they gazed down at you. Your disheveled hair, the hickeys adorning your body, Matt’s release trickling out of you and Chris’ dripping down your chin.

Matt’s hand came up to caress your side, causing a breathy sigh to escape your lips, "you think you can go one more round pretty?" Chris chuckled softly, "mhm—ma, don’t think we can get enough of you, think you can take us both?"

"Both? like at the same time?" you whispered, your voice already hoarse from overuse. They nodded, chuckling as they helped you into a sitting position, "yeah, we’ve got lube, but it’s fine if you’re not up for it, pretty—" you cut him off, "well, I don’t mind, i mean... if it can fit that is..." your voice trailed off as you looked down at their laps.

"Don’t worry, ma, we’ll make it fit," is all you heard before they got in position. Matt laying with you on top of him and Chris behind you. The pop of the lube cap made your body shiver in anticipation, the mildly cold oil jolting every nerve as it ran down your slit, making you shudder.

Matt slowly pushed inside, eliciting a soft moan from you, and as you finally adjusted to his size, Chris nudged himself on your already full pussy. "Shh— ’s alright, pretty, just relax," Matt cooed from under you, his arms holding you in place as Chris entered you from behind. You squirmed under their touch, moaning loudly, and the stretch being too much, too big.

Chris grunted at the tightness as he pushed inside, stilling when he bottomed out inside you, "shit ma, so fuckin’ tight," he hissed through his teeth. Matt chuckled, his voice huskier, "yeah, you like how we stretch you, pretty? how fuckin’ big we are?" You could only mumble a "yes" that sounded more like a whimper.

They let you adjust to their sizes—the fullness and the stretch. Their hands caressed your body soothingly, whispering sweet nothings in your ears, and kissing your shoulders and neck.

You finally relaxed around them, moaning softly at the sudden pang of pleasure from being filled to the brim. Your pleasure didn’t go unnoticed by Matt and Chris, chuckling to themselves as they started to move. Your world blurred as you felt an immense pleasure you’ve never felt before.

Your body moved on its own, meeting their thrusts, wanting more of that delicious feeling. And all that only made them move faster – harder – thrusting into you with renewed fervor. Your hands clutched whatever you could hold, grounding yourself so you wouldn’t get consumed by the pleasure.

"Fu—ck pretty, so fuckin’ tight," Chris mumbled an agreement, both of them holding you in place as they took what they wanted. You could only hold on, and moan for them. "Shit, gonna fill you up so good— swell you with my cum, ma," Chris groaned, "Yeah, fuck— you ready for us pretty?" Matt added, muffling his sounds of pleasure on your shoulder.

You mumbled a plea for them to cum inside you—to which they gladly did, groaning and moaning as they filled you up. Their combined release spilled out from the sides, making a mess.

Gently pulling out from your well-used hole, their chests heaved with exertion. In spite of their softening cocks, they couldn’t help the feral, almost animalistic, feeling when they saw the sight of their mixed release trickling out of your pussy.

They both groaned under their breaths before exchanging knowing glances, a silent conversation between them, and slowly alerting you about their insatiable desires for you. "You okay, pretty?" Matt’s hand caressed your cheek while Chris squeezed your ass, "we’re not done with you ma, not by a long shot."

They chuckled as they saw you look at them surprised, but didn’t protest or say no, instead pulled them closer – a silent plea for more. "We’re gonna fuck this pussy so good," Matt whispered in your ear, "and fill you up with our spend until you swell with our babies," Chris added, whispering in your other ear.

Their words were filled with promises, and that alone made you feel immense pleasure, a need for more.

The next morning, you woke up with a bad headache, and sore all over. It wasn’t a surprise that you had a hangover but it was a surprise when you became aware of your surroundings. You were in an unknown room, entangled with not one, but two guys. It didn’t help that they were brothers, identical brothers.

"Heard they got a bro code or whatnot, like they wouldn’t hit the same girl." Your friend’s words echoed in your head. Guess it wasn’t true after all, their bro code.

𓆩♡𓆪

wc. 3,086

Isa's notes. I've never written a Chratt fic before, or anything with two love interests, or a threesome in that matter so like... my bad if it's shit.

xoxo 𓆩♡𓆪

Masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 Taglist

Taglist: @strnilolover @mattsfavoritestar @sophand4n4 @tpwktahlz @lilyyliloo @slut4angstt @pvssychicken @poolover123 @loud-sturniolos @inlovewchrissturniolo @queenshet @chrisstopherfilmed @grace-sturnz @billiesbabya

© sweetshuga

[theminecraftbee]

Cleo sits next to Scott, her head in her hands, and says—

—“I really thought it’d be different this time.” BigB sighs. He kicks his foot. Ren is, at least, a sympathetic ear. He understands these things, or at least he understands that it’s hard to be alone. “I mean, I know you don’t trust those guys…”

“I don’t,” agrees Ren.

“But they reached out, man. And I thought, well,”—

—“I could always bury the hatchet, you know?” Cleo says. “It’s been what, how many games? How many years? And I can recognize when I’m as much of the problem as someone else.”

“You had a reason to be a problem. I love that you’re a problem,” Scott says supportively. Pearl snorts in the corner.

“I’m good at being a problem!” Cleo says

“I know, you are,” Scott agrees.

“But it’s like—I don’t know. Maybe I was ready to be done being angry! Maybe I…”—

—“…just wanted a change.”

BigB is quiet. He lets the thought sit in the air. Ren, normally a man determined to fill silences, at least understands the value of a dramatic pause; he doesn’t say anything yet.

Martyn, however, has grown a bit more impatient over the sessions. "What kind of change? You two have been weird about each other for years."

BigB is quiet a moment more. "Did you know that—Ren, did you know that you were the first and last person to show me trust?"

"Uh, thank you, dude," Ren says.

"But like, the thing is, people, they stabbed us then, man. And it's just..."—

—"...he didn't have to! That's what gets me! He could have like... said anything to me? I don't ask much! I offered him my hand! I said, sure man. I'm gonna forgive you, just this once. We can try again. And he just—he tried to kill you! Why?"

"I mean, Scott is one of the people with the most lives," Impulse says reasonably. "And he didn't betray you."

"That's not how teams work, Impulse," Cleo says. "You can't just get rid of the teammate you don't like. The team is only as strong..."—

—"...as weak as it's component parts."

Ren and Martyn stare.

"Jesus, BigB," Martyn says.

BigB looks away. "Yeah, um, well. I don't think that's that stupid. It's not about you two, really. And this is a death game, right? I didn't attack her. It's just... I wasn't going to, really. I wasn't..."—

—"...he was going to, that's the thing. He's always going to do... this!"

"Maybe that's what you get for reaching out to a traitor," Scott says lightly.

Impulse looks away. Pearl snorts again. Cleo sighs.

"Look, I have a long memory, but if I let that decide everything I do forever it would eat me. And people have their reasons. Impulse, look Scott in the eyes, he's not even the reason you have that reputation. Pearl, you're a part of the team. That's the thing. People can change. People..."—

—"...can't change, really." BigB shrugs. "She should know better by now."

"Uh, dude, should we know better?" Ren asks.

"Nah. I mean, Martyn's worse than I am," BigB says cheerfully.

"Martyn," Ren says, sounding vaguely disappointed. Martyn crosses his arms.

"What? You're the one who said I had evil in me. If you take in a snake, you can't be mad if it bites you. If you take in a scorpion..."—

—"...you can hope it learns not to sting you. I don't know. Maybe it's just in his nature."

Pearl makes a strange noise. "And what's in my nature?"

Cleo sighs. She steps over and throws an arm around Pearl's shoulder.

"As long as you don't bite me? I'm willing to learn." Pearl leans into Cleo's arm slightly. Cleo can't help but wonder, some days, how much of the way she flinches back again is her fault. BigB isn't the only one that Cleo hopes can change his nature. Otherwise...

"I'm not actually a traitor, despite what everyone claims," Impulse says, apropos of nothing.

"You know, you should pick better friends," Scott says.

"Nah," Cleo says. She doesn't elaborate. She just—

—breathes. BigB just breathes.

"It was never going to work, anyway," he says.

"Sometimes I wonder if everyone broke while I wasn't looking," Ren says quietly, sadly. BigB has no answer for that.

[flameblade3]

I looked through the gateway home, a one way trip back to the life I fought so hard to return to. The demon even told me it could roll back the clock, should I choose, make it be like none of this ever happened, like I only left for a minute. I looked back at the motley crew that had accompanied me all this way. The people who talked so much about saving this world from some vile demon king. But, here he was, giving me all I wanted with no strings attached.

“I can tell you the truth of this world, should you wish to hear it. It may help in your decision.” The demon spoke once more.

Our wizard shouted in return “silence, cur! We shall not listen to another word you have to say! You shall fall here and now”

I was the fighter, the protector, the shield. Without me they were nearly defenseless. I stepped forward, and gestured for the demon to proceed. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a barrier between me and my party, sealing off all sound as well. He began to explain:

“This world is vile in nature. Powerful mages spirit away people from their lives and bring them here to serve arbitrary roles in a never ending story. People brought here gradually lose their memories of home along with their desire to return, but you were different. Your love for your wife and children kept your memories safe. I am one of the few remaining entities with the ability to free people from this world, return them home like nothing happened, that is why you were sent to destroy me. I have no desire to destroy this world, only to free the people taken here against their will. So allow me to free you, please.” The demon bowed and gestured to the gateway.

I looked back, my party furiously attacking, banging, screaming at the barrier the demon put between us. I felt nothing but apathy for them. I just wanted to go home. But… something tugged at my heart. There were others, many others, taken from their lives just like I was. I knew I wanted to help in any way I could, so long as I could still see my wife and kids again.

“Is there any way I can return here?” I asked

“I’m sorry?” The demon king was taken aback, “why would you want to return to this place?”

“You said there were others. If I can, I want to help free them as well, and maybe strike down these mages that have been spiriting good people away from their lives” I gripped my blade with new vigor, a desire to protect people I truly would care about burned within me.

“I understand, and am deeply moved.” The demon created a ball of light and guided it towards me. “That amulet will glow should I need your assistance. Hold it tightly in front of you and a gateway back here will open. For now, I bid you farewell, good knight. Return to your family, I will deal with your party.”

“Thank you…” was all I could muster. I took off my armor, piece by piece. Dropped my sword and shield at my feet and stepped over them, clutching the amulet tight. I stepped through the gate, the last thing I saw on that side was lesser demons taking my gear elsewhere, and was met with the smiling faces of my family.

You've been summoned to another world, "destined" to save it. Except you're a mom/dad who just wants to get home. At the end, the BBEG offers to send you home. No tricks those really are your kids. Now everyone is saying your selfish for wanting to leave. Except you're not selfish. They are.

[alwaysthefool]

Your turn to be a cat (x Zayne, Rafayel, Sylus, Xavier)

Warnings: Suggestive, might have minor spoilers for cat companion memories, kinda cringe ngl

Tags: Fluff (literally), MC/Reader, no gendered pronouns for you

Synopsis: This time, you’re the one who gets a cat tail and a second set of ears.

Zayne

“When you said medical emergency, this isn’t what I had in mind.” Zayne looked at your ears, a first aid kid in his hand. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since you texted him, telling him it was something dire and you couldn’t go to the hospital, and there he was, at your door, stifling a smile.

“Don’t laugh!” You scolded him, turning red, the tail you tried to hide inside your hoodie peeking out. You grabbed it immediately, forcing it back in. You pulled him inside, shutting the door to your apartment.

“Don’t fold your tail, it’ll be bad for your back.” Zayne spoke, taking off his shoes and keeping the first aid kit near the entrance. “And besides, it’s very cute.”

The tail made its way back out, and listening to your doctor’s advice, you let it be. “Help me out my hoodie.” You demanded, and Zayne couldn’t help but laugh at your tone, carefully helping you out your hoodie so as to not bother your sensitive ears, one of his hands holding down your t-shirt from riding up.

“Thanks.” You mumbled, curling up on the couch, your tail swaying against its will. Zayne made his way next to you, unable to stop himself from touching it. “It’s really soft.” He observed, his large hand stroking it lightly.

“Quit playing around!” You whined, not really wanting him to stop, but being the gentleman he was, he did, not taking revenge for how you treated him when he was a cat. “How do I make it go away?”

“Can I have a closer look at your tail?” Zayne asked, and you hissed, earning a laugh out of him. “Alright, I won’t look, but you shouldn’t be shy around your doctor, especially when you’re the one who called me here.”

“You’re not just my doctor…” You looked up at him a little hopefully, tail swaying again.

Zayne smiled. “You’re right, I suppose I’m your vet now.”

You pouted, walking away from him in feline elegance, taking your place on the adjacent arm chair, lying on it with your tail in the air. “How did you feel when you were a cat?”

“Needy.” Zayne admitted, after some thought.

Like a cat, you wanted something, but you were too proud to admit it. “Then…” You sat up on the chair, gazing at him, tail swaying behind you. “How do you, how do you… how do you think I must be feeling right now?” You shied away immediately, cat ears perking up.

Zayne would take care of you, no matter what, so before you knew it, you were on his lap, his large hands stroking your ears. “If you wanted me, you should’ve just said so.”

You purred, nuzzling on his chest, holding on to him tightly, as his hands worked on your ears and tail. “You knew.”

“Maybe.” Zayne spoke into your ear. Your heightened senses could listen to his racing heart, and his gushing blood. “But I really wanted to hear you ask.”

Rafayel

Honestly, he’d be EMPATHETHIC loool

You were supposed to accompany him for an event, but as you put on your dress, you felt cold from behind. Looking in the mirror, you saw a tail pulling your dress up, and a pair of ears on your head. You yelped, turning the lights off, and hiding in a corner. This couldn’t be happening.

“Cutie, what was that?” Rafayel called from outside the door. You had the misfortune of being at his house when it happened too. You quietly opened the window, to make it seem like maybe you ran away. You would, too, but you couldn’t be seen in public like that.

“I’m coming in!” Rafayel called upon hearing the sound of the window opening. You quietly hid under his bed.

Rafayel was already in his suit and tie, giving off a certain scent which made him seem oddly delectable.

“Where did you go…” He mumbled, looking at the open window. You could only see his feet now, so you couldn’t tell what he was doing, until your phone buzzed. You scrambled to turn it silent, when Rafayel crouched down, peeking under the bed.

Before you knew it, you scratched him with a hiss.

“Ow!” He stood back up, and you could smell his blood. You didn’t expect yourself to do that, or for the scratch to draw blood.

You crawled out, standing up to look at his hand. “I’m so sorry!” As you realised what you did, you took your hands away from his wounded hand, trying to hide your tail.

“I, uh…” You couldn’t meet Rafayel’s eyes, scared of what he was thinking.

“Oh, it’s just you.” Rafayel sighed. “I thought a cat sneaked in.”

He saw your tail lifting up your dress, and wrapped his coat around your waist. You still turned away from him, looking guilty. “Cutie, look at me.” He called gently. “It was just a scratch, and you didn’t mean it.”

You looked up at him, and his face was gentle, nothing like you expected. “Why did you hide from me?” He asked, his hands on your cheeks.

“I thought you’d be disgusted of me. I’m a cat, after all.”

“Hey, hey, hey.” He coaxed you, pulling you into a hug. “I could never be disgusted by you. I told you before, right? I’d love you even if you were a worm.”

You let out a laugh, hugging him back, pulling him down on the bed behind you. He kept holding you, surprised by the sudden affection. “And you’re also the only cute cat in the world.”

Sylus

SUGGESTIVE

This was bad. Sylus would never let you live it down, but you also had no choice but to tell him. Your first thought after being turned into half a cat was volunteering at the cat café, so you’d get to spend time around the kitties, but that isn’t what the OTTO had in mind when giving you that outfit. Now you needed someone to help you out there.

“Are you done?” The OTTO asked, its tone irritated.

You remained dead silent, texting Sylus to ‘smash that devilish robot into pieces’.

You heard commotion outside, then some banging, thinking maybe, finally, Sylus had arrived, leaning your ear against the door.

“Loving the new look, sweetie.” Sylus was somehow behind you, hand already on your tail. You immediately turned around to see him gaze fondly at you, who was sat leaning against the door. “Guess you’ve been affected by the cat evol too.”

You looked away from his strong gaze, suddenly very aware of what OTTO made you wear. A short maid dress, with an opening at the back for your tail, and chiffon gloves with a cat paw stitched on them. Before you could change back, the sinister robot stole your clothes.

“I’m pleased you decided to call me in such a situation.”

“Shut up…” You mumbled.

“That’s no way to speak to the person who saved you, kitten.” This time, that word held a whole new meaning.

“I’m… sorry.” You forced, ears drooping down. You looked up at him with a pout, and he pet you behind the ears. You rubbed your head against his head, until you realised what you were doing, forcing yourself to stop. You cleared your throat.

“That’s rare coming from you.” He teased, fingers dancing around your jaw. There was a certain scent to them, so you bit him, though not hard enough to draw blood. Sylus winced, pulling back. “There’s the kitten I know.”

“Did you bring a change of clothes like I asked?”

Sylus hummed in response, not really focusing on anything other than playing with your hair and ears, hands trickling down to where your tail was, pulling at the ribbons of the dress, acting more like a cat than you. You leaned in to him, and he placed a gentle kiss on the back of your neck.

Understanding where this was going, you reluctantly held his arm. “Mm, let’s not, I’m super hairy right now.” You said, referring to all the cat fuzz.

“That’s fine.” Sylus whispered into your ear. “I prefer it like that.”

Xavier

“Ugh…” You groaned, still sleepy. You had work pending, but for some reason, you couldn’t keep your eyes open despite having a lot of sleep and a cup of coffee, Knowing Xavier was often in the same predicament, you went to his floor, hoping he had some insanely potent energy drinks on him.

He opened the door, also groggy, but straightening up when he saw you. “Hey.” You greeted, intending to yawn but letting out a ‘meow’ instead.

“That was strange.” You tried to laugh it off. Xavier let you inside, and you explained that you were uncharacteristically sleepy the whole day.

“How do you manage to stay up?” You were sat on his fuzzy carpet, pulling at it.

Xavier smiled, sitting down next to you. “I think there might be another reason you’re so sleepy today.” He opened his phone’s front camera, facing it towards you.

“W-what’s that?” You cried, hands going towards the ears on your head and tail behind you.

“Cats might need up to 16 hours of sleep a day.” Xavier put his phone down, leaning his elbow on the coffee table, his other hand gently touching your ear. “If you have work, I’ll do it for you.”

“Really?” Your tail moved in excitement.

Xavier nodded, as he went downstairs to get your laptop. You prowled around his house, trying to fall asleep on his bed, then looking in his fridge for something to eat, restless and impatient, irritated that you were unable to fall asleep despite being sleepy. You looked for several spots, but nothing was snug enough.

That was until you saw Xavier typing your mission reports on his laptop. You crawled over to him on all fours, setting your head down on his lap. He gave your head a few scratches, helping you fall asleep.

Despite not being a cat anymore, Xavier couldn’t help feel sleepy seeing you safely under him. Perhaps cats could sense people’s feelings, because you spoke, half asleep “Put that aside Xavi, come cuddle with me.”

Eventually, the work was discarded, and Xavier held you on his couch, legs intertwined, head buried in his chest, his arms around you protectively, pretty dreams and soft feelings warm enough for you to get through whatever your supervisors would have to say.

[lyjen]

Trust me | Evan “Buck” Buckley

Summary: When Buck and (Y/n) go to Bobby to tell him the news that (Y/n) is pregnant, they get interrupted by the sound of the alarm. Everything seems to run smoothly on the call, until the bridge collapses with (Y/n), Eddie and a victim in the back of the ambulance. Putting (Y/n)’s pregnancy at risk.

A request by: @shauna-carsley

Feel free to send in request in my “Ask me a question 👀” section! 🫶🏽

9-1-1 Masterlist

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

“Okay, so we’re telling Bobby today, right? Before shift?” Buck asks as he places his foot onto the brake pedal of the car, to stop in front of the light that had just switched from green to red.

“Oh my god” she said, which sounded more like a scoff. The back of her left hand bumped into Buck’s chest as he looked over at his girlfriend, with her eyes totally focussed on the screen of her phone. She clearly didn’t hear the question he just asked her.

“Did you know this? It says and I quote..” she said, as her flat hand morphed into a “wait a second” gesture. Only her index finger was now in the air. “Your breasts can grow up to three cup sizes while pregnant. Breast growth in the first trimester is due to higher levels of the hormones estrogen and progesterone.” she quotes the article that she has been reading since the second they had gotten into the car.

A small chuckle left his lips, as he listened to her reading the small part of the article. Since they found out that (Y/n) was pregnant a few days ago, she had been obsessed with reading all these articles. She wanted to know what was going to happen to her, her hormones and of course her body.

One of the “funnier” things is, (Y/n) is a paramedic, and has helped countless times delivering babies in the field. But now that it’s her who’s pregnant, she actually is scared of the finish line. Even though she’s now eight weeks pregnant, and she’s not even there yet. It’s one of the things that keeps running through her mind.

“Why can’t they just remain this size” she sighs as she retrieves her left hand to herself again and keeps on reading the article. “Honey, did you hear what I asked?” Buck asks her. But then again, he doesn’t receive an answer.

“Your feet can grow bigger. Well I knew that already, Sherlock Holmes..” she mumbled as her finger kept on tracing over the screen. “Okay..” Buck sighed as he looked to his right, and placed his hand on (Y/n)’s phone that was in between her hands.

Buck yanks the phone from her hands, “Hey! I was using that.” (Y/n) says as she tries to grab the phone from his hand. But he places the phone in the compartment of the car door.

“You’ve been glued to that article ever since we got in the car.” he says as he let the weight on the brake become less and switches the brake for the gas pedal as the traffic light goes to green again.

“Well, I’m sorry? Is it wrong to know what’s going to happen to my body and my emotions in the next few weeks?” she asks him as she watches him turn the steering wheel to the left, but his eyes remain on the road. “Of course not, and I will give you your phone back. But we need to make a plan.” he calmly tells her as the drive to the firehouse gets shorter and shorter.

“Okay, go ahead.” she says as she looks at the road in front of her. A small chuckle leaves his mouth. As if he didn’t just ask her a few moments ago. “We enter the firehouse, go get changed and then we’ll talk to Bobby.” Buck explains as he made some motions with his right hand, while his left hand was still on the steering wheel.

“Fine with me, can I have my phone back now?” (Y/n) said as she waited for Buck to place her phone back into her hand. He glanced to his right as he saw her hand, and her eyes were burning into his skin. He grabbed her hand as he pushed it down to her lap. “No, we’re not done yet.” he said as he took another turn.

He gets why she was so into reading all of those articles, but from time to time it’d get boring or tiring, right? Buck himself was also reading more and more stories from other people becoming dads. He was so excited to be a dad. Ever since (Y/n) had told him about her being pregnant, he practically couldn’t think about anything else.

“What else do you want to discuss?” she said, maybe a little bit annoyed. But Buck ignores it, he knows it is probably the hormones talking. “Do we only want to tell Bobby? Or are we telling the team too?” he asks then.

A sigh leaves her mouth as she searches her brain for an answer for that question. “Uhmm..” she mumbled as she shook her head, she didn’t exactly know the answer to that one. “See, I really want to tell Eddie.. but, I feel like if we tell him we need to tell the rest of the team too.” Buck explains his opinion on it.

“I don’t know.. I’m only eight weeks now. I’m scared that if I share this news now, I’ll jinx it and things will go wrong.” she said as she ran a hand through her hair and let her head fall back against the headrest of the carseat.

Of course they wanted to tell Eddie, he was her brother and he was the best friend of Buck. Eddie felt more like a brother to Buck and it was the same the other way around. They didn’t have secrets, and it felt illegal to walk around with news like this.

But it wasn’t fair if they told Eddie and left the others out, they were family too, blood related or not. Not that Bobby wasn’t family, he was like a father Buck never had. But they needed to inform him about her health, she couldn’t now just run into burning buildings and carry heavy equipment. Since she already is a paramedic, she doesn’t run into burning buildings and doesn’t carry heavy equipment a lot.

“Hey.. I’m sure that if we do decide to tell them and something does go wrong, they’ll be there for us. Most importantly for you.” He says as he gives her a quick glance and places his hand on her thigh.

“You’re right..” she said as she glanced to her left, looking at Buck who was now driving in the parking lot of the firehouse. ”But I don’t want to tell them today, I want it to be a special moment. You know? Like the way I told you.” she explained, with her eyes still locked onto Buck.

The car pulls to a stop as Buck parks the car in the parking lot. “It’s not just something you pick out at the grocery store.” she said, as Buck took a deep breath in and looked at (Y/n). Their eyes connected once more, as (Y/n) leaned the side of her head against the headrest.

“I know it means a lot to you..” he said with a small smile on his face as he gave her leg a slight squeeze, and continued to rub his thumb over her thigh.

*

Buck turned the key inside the lock, making the front door of their apartment jump open. He steps inside the room while holding the paper straps of the bag full with groceries in his right hand, as he closes the door behind him with his left hand with the keys in the palm of his hand.

He steps closer to the dining table as his eyes fall onto (Y/n), sitting at the table with a glass of water and ice cubes. She was leaning her head onto her right hand, as her elbow was leaning onto the dining table.

“Hey, I thought you were asleep.” Buck says as he places the bag onto the table as well as the car keys. For a small second she closed her eyes and shook her head, “I couldn’t sleep after you left.” she said followed by a small sigh.

She had been feeling nauseous for days, which felt like forever. It was almost like there wasn't an end to all of this. How could she be this sick? “Do you think I can grow abs from the amount of how often I throw up?” she asks him as she lets her hand she was leaning on, rub over her face.

A small chuckle left Buck’s mouth as he heard that question. “Would it make you feel better if I said yes?” he smiled as he looked at her oh so tired face. “You know what? I would.” she said as she looked back at him, making eye contact.

Buck couldn’t help but form a small smile on his face. “Okay, I got some ginger, bananas and some white rice.” he said as soon as he started to unpack the groceries from the paper bag he was just holding a few seconds ago. “If google is right, this might help against nausea.” he explained then, as soon as he received a confused look from (Y/n).

She didn’t ask for those groceries, but after his short explanation she got it. He had done some research. It was cute, he was trying to take care of her. Even though she was a paramedic, she knew what kind of medicine worked against nausea, but she couldn’t just steal a bag of saline and an IV kit.

But then Buck’s eyes fall on the small box, placed next to her glass of water on the dining table. “What’s that?” he asked curiously. She followed his eyes, and pushed the small box towards him as he stepped closer.

“A little surprise for you.” She said as her hands became warmer with the second and the butterflies in her stomach started to duplicate themselves with every heartbeat in her body. Buck grabs the small box from the dining table, but before he opens the box he gets that thinking look on his face.

“What did I forget?” he asked himself. “Wait.. it isn’t my birthday.. did I forget our anniversary?” he continued as he talked to himself for a second. Another small smile morphed onto (Y/n)’s face as she watched him freak out. He was so scared he missed another special day. “No.. that’s not until two months.” She laughed nervously.

Typically Buck, he could forget so many things sometimes. It’s like talking to dory, with short-term memory.

“Then.. what is this for?” he asked hesitatingly as he held the box in his hands. It was starting to feel like some kind of prank she was pulling or he was making it an interrogation. “Just.. something, what made me think of you..” she stumbled on the first words. What was she supposed to say?

“Just open it, Buck.” she continued as he started to shake the box in his hand. Making her even more nervous now. He grabbed the lid of the small box and carefully took it off. His eyes scanned the small box that was in his hand. His eyebrows furrowed at the look of it.

Until he realized what was in it.

“No.. you’re kidding” he said as soon as he saw that it was a pregnancy test.

She didn't say a word as soon as he grabbed the test from the box and looked down at the small screen that had visualized the weeks on it. “You’re kidding right?” he asked her in disbelief with a little nervous laugh.

She pressed her lips into a thin line as she tried to fight the tears, which were fighting their way through the barrier. “I’m not kidding Buck” she says, as a bright smile was taking over her entire face. She stood up from her chair and walked towards Buck. He was still starstruck, looking at the test in the box.

(Y/n) pressed her body to his side, as she smiled up to him. “You’re pregnant” he smiled down at her. She couldn’t seem to wipe the huge ass smile off her face. Buck placed his free hand onto her cheek as he let his thumb trace over her cheek.

“I just had this feeling..” she said, but before she could finish her sentence, his warm lips were pressed against hers. She could feel the butterflies inside of her body get more restless as she felt his lips. Her hand was pressed against his chest as she tried to steady herself by the amount of excitement he put into that kiss.

Their lips part, as he placed his forehead against hers. “I love you..” she sighed as she closed her eyes for a second and just be in the moment.

Buck pulled back his head as he took another look at the test. “When did you..?” he asked then, as he switched between the test and back at (Y/n). “I took the test yesterday.” she answered his question. But exactly when he realized she said “yesterday” the look on his face morphed into a confused one.

“You took this while we were on shift?” He continued his interrogation. She chuckled at his look and the confusion in his face. “Where else? We were on a twenty four hour shift.” she laughed.

*

Buck couldn’t help but keep on smiling since the second they entered the firehouse. Buck closed his locker as he placed his boot on one of the small red benches in the locker room, tying his shoelaces. (Y/n) put on her shirt and closed the buttons of her shirt as she looked in the small mirror she had put in her locker.

Her cheeks were rosy, and there was a small spot of acne on her forehead breaking through her skin. A small sigh left her mouth as she rubbed her hand over her cheek, as if she was trying to see if it was real or not, to check if it might go away if she put some pressure on it.

But without any success. Hormones were changing her body, she had to accept that. But she hoped no one would get the wrong impression if they saw those rosy cheeks.

“You alright?” Buck asked, with a small feeling of worry in his body. She quickly glanced at him and gave him a small nod as she closed the locker. “Just a bit nervous.. or maybe excited. I don’t know..” she stumbled. She bent over to grab all of her long hair and started to make a ponytail.

“It’s going to be fine.” Buck said as she straightened her back again. (Y/n) pulls her shirt correctly again as she looks at Buck again. “I know” she whispered as Buck came closer again and grabbed her fingers.

He didn’t even need to ask her if she was ready, he just motioned with his head to the left “Come on” he said softly as he turned around and kept her fingers on the inside of his palm. But he slowly loosened his grip on her hand, and before they reached the locker room door, he had let go of her fingers.

Buck and (Y/n) were never the couple to be that close on shift, of course they’d steal a small kiss from each other when no one was looking, even if it was on scene between or behind the trucks, or when they were in the hall behind the locker room. Everyone knew that the two of them were in a relationship, and they were okay with it.

As long as they kept work and personal life separate.

(Y/n) followed Buck up the stairs to the loft, to find Bobby in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Buck waited for his girlfriend to step on the loft so they could talk to Bobby together.

“Morning cap” Buck said as he quickly wiped his sweaty hands onto his trousers. “Hey, good morning Buck, (Y/n).” he answered. When he reached the right amount of coffee in his cup he placed the coffee pot back where it belonged. “What can I do for you?” Bobby then asked, as he grabbed the cup of coffee and leaned with his free hand onto the kitchen counter.

“We were wondering if we could talk to you.” (Y/n) said, making Bobby frown at the question. Isn’t that what they were doing right now? Talking to Bobby? (Y/n) could feel the jitters inside her stomach, she was nervous to tell the news that she forgot the rest of her sentence.

“In private” Buck then quickly added, when he switched looks between (Y/n) and then back to Bobby. The captain’s eyebrows were still frowned, he knew they were hiding something.

In the meantime, Eddie was standing downstairs, cleaning the rig with the bright yellow rag in his hands. But as soon as he watched his sister and his best friend walking up to Bobby, he stopped cleaning and walked a little closer to get a better look of them.

Eddie rubbed some small spots on his hands off with the rag he used to clean the rig with, as he kept Buck, (Y/n) and Bobby in his vision. “Hm, what do you think that’s about?” a female voice asked behind Eddie.

He quickly glanced to his right as Hen took place to his right and not shortly after, Chimney followed, standing next to his left side. Eddie looked down to the rag he was using to clean his hands with, and placed it over his shoulder. He shook his head as he folded his arms over each other. “I don’t know.” he just said.

“You haven’t talked to your sister yet?” Hen continued to ask. Looking at Eddie, trying to get a reaction out of him. But the only thing Eddie did was shake his head. “I mean..” he stumbled as he looked to the loft. “I noticed something about her that is different. But I just can’t seem to put my finger on it.” he explained to the two paramedics next to him then.

“Maybe.. she can’t work with Buck and you and is asking for a transfer?” Chimney said with his eyes locked on the three. Eddie’s eyebrows frowned as he glanced at Chimney. “No.. It can’t be.. right?” Eddie stumbled as he looked at Hen.

Hen’s hands went up, saying that she didn’t want to be a part of this guessing competition. “Don’t look at me, I have no clue.” Hen said then.

Normally Eddie could trust his gut, but at this moment he had no clue if this was bad or good. If something was wrong, he’d be sure his sister or best friend would come to him. But people do keep secrets. “Whatever it is.. it has to be something serious.” Eddie concluded.

”If only one of them went to Bobby it would be normal, but the two of them going to cap? That sounds like a problem to me.” Chimney said, followed by a small “ouch”. Eddie guessed Hen gave him a tick.

Just when Bobby, Buck and (Y/n) wanted to move towards the stairs to go to Bobby’s office, their conversation got cut off by the sound of the bell.

“Looks like our conversation will have to wait” Bobby said and gave Buck a pat on his shoulder as he put down his cup of coffee and ran past the couple.

(Y/n) looked at Buck for a slight second, she was afraid this was going to happen. “Let’s go, Let’s go!” Bobby’s voice sounded over the loft, which made the couple run towards the stairs.

-

A loud cry left Jo’s lips as soon as she moved out of the van and got scooped up by Buck. As soon as Jo was away from the car, (Y/n) and Chimney entered the van through the front window. Pieces of glass were cracking underneath her boots when she stepped through the window and made her way to the back of the van.

Both Chimney and (Y/n) crouched beside the unconscious woman, “Mallory can you hear me?” (Y/n) asked as Chimney placed his fingers against her neck to feel if he could find a pulse, but at the action of him placing his hand on her chest to feel something. “Breathing is weak” Chimney concluded as he opened his medic bag.

“Cap, we’re going to need an air ambulance. Patient is unresponsive, breathing is weak and she lost bladder control. Could be a spinal.” (Y/n) said through the radio. Before she knew it, her brother was standing at the front of the car with a backboard, calling both the paramedics their names.

“Chim, (Y/n), here’s the backboard, the airbus is en route.” her brother said as he handed the backboard over to (Y/n) and Chimney. “Copy that” (Y/n) said, as they placed the backboard behind the two of them.

“I’m trying the sternal rub” Chimney said as he placed his fist onto her chest and started rubbing over her sternum. “Come on Mallory, wake up! Can you hear me?” Chimney said to the victim as her eyes fluttered open. “There you go”

“J-jo, W-w-where is Jo?” the woman asked, as she looked around the space she was in. She was scared. “Your daughter is going to be fine, how are you feeling?” Chimney asked then. “I-I don’t know.” she stumbled.

Chimney moved his position so he could get the c-collar around the woman’s neck easily, as (Y/n) did some tests. “Can you move your arms?” (Y/n) asked Mallory, the woman did what (Y/n) asked and moved her right arm to her face. “That’s good!” she said, as in the meanwhile she untied the woman’s shoe, and carefully slid it off her foot.

“Now, can you wiggle your toes for me?” (Y/n) continued as she had her left hand placed on her heel and the right hand at her toes. She waited a second, but didn’t feel any movement. (Y/n) made eye contact with Chimney as she lightly shook her head.

“Movement in your upper extremities, that’s a great sign.” (Y/n) said as she stood up a little and moved forward. Mallory’s neck was now surrounded with the c-collar, “This is bad isn’t it?” she asked, as she kept looking to the ceiling, or now, since the car was flipped, the other side of the car.

(Y/n) looked at Chimney, she had to be positive. There was hope for her. “Spinal misalignment happens in crashes like this, and the effects are often temporary, okay?” (Y/n) answered her question, as she placed her hand onto Mallory’s for a second and squeezed it softly. “Just got to stay positive, okay?” she said as she saw the terrified woman squeezing her eyes shut for a slight second. “Okay” she sobbed.

“Okay” (Y/n) said as she looked once again at Chimney, and nodded. They were ready to move the woman. (Y/n)’s hands were grabbing the woman’s legs carefully, as Chimney grabbed her upper body. “One, two, three” she counted down, and on the count of three they moved her onto the backboard.

The sound of a helicopter took over the voices of the firefighters on scene. “Hey, looks like we’re getting you an upgrade, too. We got you into first class.” Chimney said with a small smile, and nodded at (Y/n) as a sign that he was ready to lift the backboard.

“One, two, three” Chimney now counted down and they lifted the backboard. (Y/n) knew she’d get a reaction from Buck if he saw her lifting the backboard. But since they didn’t tell anything to anyone, she couldn’t just ask someone else to do it for her. It’d be too obvious.

Slowly (Y/n) backed up, walking backwards towards the front window, just how they entered the van a few minutes ago. And she was right, the second she stepped through the windshield, back first, she could feel eyes burning in her back.

“Shall I take over?” Buck’s voice sounded. She looked over her shoulder, and saw her boyfriend standing there, ready to step in. But she just focussed right back at Chimney, stepping through the windshield too. “No, I got it.” she said as she sent him a small smile.

But she clearly knew that Buck wasn’t happy with it, but she ignored it. She was just doing her job. It wasn’t like she was heavily pregnant at the moment, but she could tell Buck was trying to take care of her, and protect her.

Meanwhile Eddie arrived with a gurney at the black van where Chimney and (Y/n) pulled Mallory from, and the two placed Mallory on the gurney. Eddie, Chimney and (Y/n) helped get Mallory to the air ambulance that had just landed, but the second she walked back towards the ambulance to assist Hen with the other, much younger victim, Buck fastened his footsteps to catch up with his girl.

“Why would you do that?” Buck asked, trying to keep the volume of his voice low enough so only she was the one who could hear what he said. The question that left his mouth made her stop in her tracks, “Seriously? You want to talk about this now?” she asked.

Buck stopped walking and stood across from (Y/n). “You could’ve just called me over on the radio.” he continued. Which made (Y/n) shake her head. “Buck if I did that, I could’ve just come clean right away.” she tried to explain to him.

“(Y/n)! Let’s go!” Hen’s voice sounded over the scene. When (Y/n) glanced quickly at Hen, she could see the paramedic standing next to an open driver’s side car door.

He had to understand that once she called him over, she’d practically blown her entire cover. “I’m not doing this right now Buck” she added in a whisper, and stepped away from him so she could continue doing her job.

But before she could pass Buck, a firm hand took a hold on her wrist. “Look, I’m not mad.” he started, Buck’s eyes turned into those puppy eyes. “I just think you should be aware of the fact that you can’t do everything. Because of..” hé stopped talking, as he motioned with his head down to her stomach.

“We’ll talk later. I have to go.” she said, she didn’t have time to discuss this right now. Even though she had the feeling she needed to explain herself even more, she couldn’t. They had to bring the victim to the hospital.

Buck’s grip on her wrist loosened and before he could think of other things he had to say, she walked away from him.

(Y/n) rushed towards the ambulance Hen was sitting in, waiting on (Y/n), and stepped in the back of the ambulance. When she looked up, she noticed the victim on the gurney and to her surprise, her brother was in there as well.

Eddie was sitting in one of the seats, while he was opening a plastic bag with an IV tube, as his eyes fluttered up, looking at his sister who had just entered the ambulance. “You’re placing an IV?” (Y/n) asked, on which Eddie hummed some kind of “yes”.

“Morphine?” She continued her round of questions, “Sí” he answered, this time in actual words. “Okay” (Y/n) whispered to herself as she opened one of the small cabinets on the wall of the ambulance.

Eddie grabbed the tube from the plastic bag as he moved his eyes up at his sister. He could see something was bothering her, as if she was holding something back. Eddie had noticed the slight bit of annoyance he saw when Buck was talking to her.

Chimney couldn’t be right? Would she ask for a transfer because she can’t work with Buck? Or even worse, her own brother?

“You good?” He tried to break the silence he experienced, as (Y/n) found the bag of morphine and grabbed it out of the cabinet. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she held the morphine in her hand.

A loud sigh left her mouth as she closed her eyes for a small moment, “Yeah, I’m fine.” she answered, as she closed the cabinet she grabbed the morphine bag from.

She turns around as she tries to hang up the bag of morphine, “Come on (Y/n), I can see something is bothering you.” Eddie spoke up.

The doors of the ambulance were being closed, while Eddie waited for an answer, but nothing came out of his sister’s mouth.

It wasn’t until a loud bang came from outside, which made her speak up. She stopped immediately with her actions as she looked around her, the entire ambulance they were in was shaking. It was like the ground was suddenly falling from underneath her feet. “What was-” she said, as her sentence got interrupted by the entire ambulance tilting.

Within a second her back was met by the metal backdoors of the ambulance, sending a wave of pain through her spine. A loud cry left her mouth. But it wasn’t until the windows in the back doors shattered, when she realized the ambulance had hit something else.

Dust entered the back of the ambulance as glass shattered all over (Y/n), who was protecting her head with her two arms. But because of the ambulance crashing into something else, the gurney somehow got off the brakes, launching the gurney with the victim onto (Y/n).

Another cry left her mouth, only this one went through bone and marrow. She felt a sharp pain in her stomach, it felt like she was being stabbed. It hurt like hell, the pain was almost unbearable, she pressed her eyes closed as she slipped one of her hands down to her stomach, only to find a metal beam from the gurney being pierced through her lower stomach.

Lower stomach. Fuck. It was bad enough she fell against those metal doors, and was pierced by a beam. But her lower stomach made it kind of a different story. What if the baby..? She needed someone to tell her something positive. Something like: you’re going to be okay, the two of you are going to be okay.

But the man who knew all about her, and their secret, wasn't here. But then she heard his voice over the radio. “one eighteen, report in. I need a headcount.” Buck’s voice sounded through the radio, gasping, sounding out of breath.

When he said those words, he could feel the adrenaline inside of his body become more and more. “I’m grabbing the ropes.” Ravi’s voice sounded back over the radio. Hen was right in his line of sight. Okay so far so good, two down, four to go.

“I’m in the van, pretty sure I broke a couple ribs.” Chimney groaned. Three. “But this van.. is about to be pancaked” Chimney added, as a sound of creaking metal sounded on the back of his audio.

The sound of one of his team being in pain made his heart ache. “Okay Chim, uh we’re coming to you.” Buck answered Chimney. But there was one person he’d really like to hear from right now.

“(Y/n), what’s your status?” he asked as he pressed the speak button in his radio.

“(Y/n), come in.” her boyfriend’s voice sounded again, getting more and more impatient as he spoke and waited. (Y/n) scanned the back of the ambulance as she wanted to answer Buck, but then she realized her brother was unconscious in the seat he was in earlier. Only the seatbelt of the seat was holding his unconscious body in place.

“(Y/n)?” Her name sounded more like a cry, her eyes grew wide at her brother being unconscious, with a wound on his forehead. (Y/n) searched for her radio, “(Y/n) here.” she groaned at the pain that was becoming worse within the second.

“Are you guys okay?” Buck quickly asked, “Eddie is unconscious, I’m pretty sure he hit his head on the gurney.” she said, slow, weakly with some groans in between her words. “I’m fine.. Just hit my back pretty hard.” she added ending her sentence with a groan she tried to suppress.

How much she wanted to tell Buck about the pain she felt in her stomach because of the gurney, she figured it would be best if she did not. If she did tell him, she wouldn’t know if he was going to be able to do his job.

He couldn’t make any mistakes, not when this call just became a rescue call.

Buck was relieved to hear her voice, he felt his lungs releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding. With his knees pressed against the shattered windshield of the ambulance, Buck grabbed his radio once again. “Captain Nash, still haven’t heard from you.” he called through the radio.

He waited one second, that became two seconds, became three seconds, four seconds, five seconds. But he couldn’t hear anything but static sounds.

“Bobby, come in.” (Y/n) could hear the fear in Buck’s voice, as she waited for some kind of response. She knew how much Bobby meant to him, he was like the father he never had. Not that Buck has lost his father, but he was basically never there for him when he needed him.

The sounds of the metal of the ambulance creaking and slightly moving, didn’t exactly calm (Y/n) down. Someone was shifting the weight of the ambulance, but the second there was more movement she could hear Buck’s voice calling her name. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Are you back there?” he called out.

She whimpered at the pressure that was still leaning onto her abdomen as she tried to look for the right words. “I’m alive but.. it hurts” she stumbled as she clamped her hand around the metal pipe even more.

(Y/n) could hear dull sounds of Buck talking with Hen in the front seat, but the only thing she could do was stare at her unconscious brother in the seat. “Eddie” she groaned at her brother as she tried to call out louder to him, but she couldn’t.

She needed the extra weight that was being put on the gurney, to be gone. “Jo, are you with me?” (Y/n) asked as she let out a choking breath, trying to keep herself calm and breathe the pain away. “Yeah” Jo answered her question in a cry.

“I’m gonna need you to unbuckle yourself, and try to get some weight off of me, okay?” (Y/n) whimpered as she tried to fight her way through the sentence. “Sorry. Okay." she said as soon as Jo tried to get a look of what was happening down there.

The victim unbuckled herself, as she tried to shift onto the small bench that was on the side of the ambulance. The girl rolled herself onto the bench a little too hard, making the entire ambulance move even more. But how could she blame her? Her leg was broken.

Only the weight of the gurney was now pinning into the wound. “Jo? I need you to look inside that bag.” (Y/n) asked Jo, but the second she asked the question, she immediately started to search for the bag to help (Y/n). ”There’s a small pocket with white small packages.” (Y/n) added.

“These?” Jo asked as she held the small packages up for (Y/n) to tell her she was wrong or right. “Yes, that’s it.” (Y/n) answered her question. “I need you to crack the package, stretch out as far as you can and place it under his nose.” (Y/n) asked Jo, who nodded and did what she asked.

(Y/n) needed her brother to be conscious again, she couldn’t stand it anymore to look at him like he was some kind of halloween decoration. His body was caught by the seat belt, trying to keep him from falling down. “You’re almost there!” (Y/n) tried to motivate Jo as she reached her arm out as far as she could to place the smelling salts underneath Eddie’s nose.

A loud groan filled the back of the ambulance, Eddie opened his eyes and tried to get his spinning head back on track. “Eddie?” his sister’s voice ringed through his ear drums. His head was trying to beat out of his skin.

“What happened?” Eddie mumbled as he waited for his eyes to focus on his sister. “Bridge collapsed” she simply said, trying to save her breath. “What happened to you?” the question left his lips as his eyes finally focussed on the other side of the ambulance. His sister was with her back against the metal back doors of the ambulance, as Eddie tried to find some kind of grip on the cabinets. It almost looked like Eddie was in a funfair ride by the way he was locked into his seat.

“I got attacked by the gurney” she groaned as she tried to find some place comfortable, but it was impossible when the beam was practically trying to pierce her entire body. “But it hurts..” she hissed at the burning feeling in the lower part of her stomach, as she moved her hands over the metal beam. She couldn’t hold this thing any longer inside of her body. She knew it was the wrong choice to just pull out anything from a wound, but this was unbearable.

“What are you doing?” Eddie asked as he in the meanwhile scanned the entire scene they were in, trying to find some way to get to safely, so he wouldn’t be dangling on the other side of his sister and try to assist her where he could.

There was silence. The strongest hand of (Y/n) was wrapped around the bright yellow beam that was sticking from the gurney into her lower abdomen. As her other hand was pressing against the gurney to push it away from her.

For a second she closed her eyes, focussed on her breathing, trying to calm herself down even more. In through the nose, four seconds. And out through the mouth, four seconds.

And just as she had reached those four seconds of breathing out, she started pulling the beam from the gurney. She cried out in agony as she pulled the beam and pushed the gurney off her body.

She could hear her brother yelling at her through her cries. “No! (Y/n)! Stop!” he called out, trying to get her to stop her actions. Another scream left her lips. Her hand that was around the beam was being filled with blood that was gushing from the wound in her abdomen. The second the beam was disconnected from her body, she looked down and saw another stream of blood squirting out of the wound.

Oh that was not good. Definitely not good.

The scream went through the back of the ambulance, and was audible from the outside. From the outside it almost sounded like a murder that was going on, or some woman giving birth. It suddenly let Buck’s blood run cold. What the hell was happening on the inside of that ambulance?

“What the hell was that?” Buck spoke through his radio as he was rippling down from the top of the scene, down to the ambulance to get Hen her harness. But mid his way down, he stopped as the scream went through his entire body. But the noise on the radio frequency didn’t exactly calm him down. “(Y/n)? Talk to me!” he added through his radio.

Suddenly loud cries of his girl were audible on the back of the radio, she was pressing the button to talk. But the pain took over for a second. “(Y/n)?” he just gasped through the radio.

“I’m here.. I’m okay..” she gasped, trying to give Buck some sign of life. “I’m coming to get you!” He answered in the heat of the moment, he needed his girl to be out of this mess, only that way he could function normally. “No you are not!” she said as she ended those words with a groan. “Buck, you need to get Chimney out first, and you know it.” Buck knew he had to get Chimney first, he was at the bottom of this all and the ambulance was leaning onto the van he was in.

But it stung him. He wanted to save everyone. But especially (Y/n). He couldn’t lose her. He just wanted her to be safe. “Trust me Buck.” she said softly. His heart was telling him not to, but he had to listen to his head. Chimney needed to be pulled out first. He needed Hen to help Jo, and Eddie could help his sister. That way they’d put less weight on the structure than needed. “I trust you” he sounded like a little boy through the radio.

He had to keep on going. Buck was holding two harnesses. One for Hen, and the other one she’d have to pass on to Eddie.

(Y/n) put her left foot onto the end of the gurney as she pushed it away from her. (Y/n) gasped at the feeling of the weight being off of her, as she placed the blue gloved hand onto her skin and pressed as hard as she could. “Fuck!” she cried out as tears were welling in her eyes because of the pain she was experiencing.

She pressed her head against the steel wall behind her, trying to catch her breath. “Can you pass me the trauma dressing?” she asked as she held out her hand, but the question was more like a whisper. “Why the hell would you do that!” Eddie yelled at her.

“We’re in a tilted ambulance Eddie, the gravity is literally almost pushing the gurney through me. Do you want to see the beam through my entire back?” She said slowly but snappy, her eyes were full of tears and desperation. “Now grab me those damn’ trauma dressing so I can put pressure on this wound.” she continued as she tried to breathe the pain away.

Eddie looked her strongly in the eyes, but then after two seconds, he nodded. Eddie said a prayer, and tied a part of the seatbelt that was crossing his chest around his arm. Trying to make some kind of rope to reach the bench.

All he didn’t need to do was try and give the seatbelt some slack, that way it’d get off the block and he’d tumble down. He stretched his legs out to the side, trying to aim for the other bench on the opposite side of the bench where Jo was lying. He clicked his seat belt loose, as he slowly let himself down, trying to use all his power like he was doing pull ups.

Eddie’s vision was blurry, it almost felt like he was drunk and walking. The small metal sounds of the ambulance creaking didn’t gave all of them a safe feeling, but they were trying the best they could.

It was like looking at Indiana Jones. Eddie lowered himself slowly down, trying not to land too harshly, otherwise the ambulance would shift again. Eddie was now standing just a few feet above (Y/n), he couldn’t exactly reach her, not yet. If they’d reach out to each other now, they’d miss like a few inches.

Eddie rumbles through some drawers, as he grabs the cusy plastic dressing. Trauma dressing. He fishes out the dressing and crouches slowly down as he hands it to his sister. “Here” Eddie says as he passes the package. The second his sister accepted the package and started opening it and bandaging herself, he straightened his legs again as he continued to search for some morphine.

Sobs were sounding from the otherside of the ambulance, “Jo was it? Right?” Eddie asked, as he looked over to the girl that was terrified. “Yeah?” she cried softly as she sniffled. “We’re gonna get you home, okay?” Eddie tried to reassure her, he wasn’t sure it was getting through to her, but he had to tell her. “Okay” she cried, trying to believe the words Eddie told her.

“Tell us about your trip, hm?” Eddie asked her, trying to give her a chance to see some positive things in this mess. “We um.. we just went to Yosemite.” Jo told Eddie and (Y/n) while Eddie was going through another compartment and fished out a needle and a small bottle of morphine.

“Yosemite.. it’s pretty there, right?” Eddie asked Jo as he crouched down once more. “Yeah, really beautiful..” Jo answered. “I’m going to take my son there when we get out of here.” Eddie said, as he now called his sister’s name. “Here, to take some of the pain away.” he added.

She catched the small bottle and needle, and that’s when the side door of the ambulance opened and Hen popped into sight. Hen was in the opening of the door, hanging. Gasping if she had just ran an entire marathon or had climbed Mount Everest.

(Y/n) could see Hen scanning the entire back of the ambulance, as her eye fell onto (Y/n) at the bottom of the ambulance, pressing the trauma dressing onto her skin. Shocked, she looked at the status of (Y/n). “Don’t say anything, just take Jo.” she said, trying to use her normal voice, but all she could do was a loud whisper. But it was enough for Hen to hear her.

Hen slowly nodded her head as she switched towards Eddie, holding some sort of backpack. “I brought you a harness” Hen told Eddie as she tried to pass it over to him. It took her some effort, but she gave the bag a subtle push and the bag landed in Eddie’s hands. There was a rope attached to the bag, so Eddie could safely get out with his harness.

Hen quickly let go of the sight of (Y/n). Blood was all over the floor, on the white trauma dressing and her gloves. It looked like a blood bath. “I’m taking Jo with me.” Hen said as she got out the right equipment to get the girl out. She instructed the girl, and not a few seconds later she was outside.

In the meanwhile (Y/n) opened the plastic package around the sterile needle, and pushed it through the top of the glass bottle labeled with “morphine”. Dots were dancing across her eyes as she tried to focus on the amount in the needle. Once it was filled with just enough for a woman her size, she stuck the needle into her arm and pushed the fluids through her veins.

“Fuck” she gasped as she pulled the needle from her skin and threw it to the otherside of the room so it wouldn’t get to her anymore. Eddie was getting ready to get himself and his sister the hell out of this hell hole. He placed his helmet on his head and clicked it so it was secured.

(Y/n) put as much pressure as she could on the trauma dressing, trying to stop the bleeding. But she could see it was trying to get through the white dressing. Her eyes were squeezed closed, the wound in her lower abdomen stung and the blood loss was causing her to see dots and feel lightheaded. But she could blink most of it away. “(Y/n), what’s your twenty?” Buck’s voice came through the radio as he had gotten Chimney safely to the ground.

Eddie could see his sister was still focussed on the number one thing, keeping the pressure on the wound. She was having trouble, he could tell. He doubted if he had to answer Buck, he didn’t want to make him any more worried than he already was. Eddie placed his hand onto the radio as he held the button. “She’s putting pressure on her wound, we’ll be out in a few” he answered Buck’s question.

“Wound? What wound?” Buck asked Eddie now, making Eddie stare at his sister like he just got caught stealing something. Eddie had said too much. “Eddie. What wound?” Buck’s voice sounded more in an almost threatening way now. He wasn’t asking. Buck needed to know what was happening in the back of that ambulance.

(Y/n)’s eyes shot at Eddie, realizing what he’d done. Their eyes were locked, (Y/n) gave her brother a warning look as she saw his hand wandering back to his radio, ready to answer. “Piece of the gurney stabbed her in her lower abdomen.” Eddie had to do this, otherwise Buck would’ve gone back up the collapsed bridge, and see it for himself. The warning look she had on her face just turned into a thunderstorm. Why did he have to say that?

Panic was rushing through Buck’s veins as he watched the scene, where Hen was rippling down with Jo. A million questions were running through his mind, with the speed of a hundred miles an hour.

Why didn’t she tell him she was hurt? Was she okay? How bad was the wound? And.. the baby. Was the baby okay?

Buck’s hand was pressed on the radio, “(Y/n) come in” he sounded through the radio as his eyes were stuck on the ambulance. But he couldn’t hear anything other than the noise of the frequency.

He waited a few moments to give her time to answer, but he felt his patience was running out. Not even a second of two had passed, and he was already repeating her name. “(Y/n)” her name fell off his lips, as some kind of cry for help.

He held the radio in his hand as he pressed his eyes closed and let his head hang down, looking at his feet. “Buck.. I’m okay” Her voice rang through his ears, it was like a little shy girl was talking to him. But he could hear in her voice that she was holding back a cry.

“Are you both okay?” Buck asked, as he opened his eyes. He needed her to be okay, he needed the one thing they both created to be okay. But with the vague description of whatever wound she had, he couldn’t figure out if they were. “.. is the baby okay?” rattled after that, trying to make the question more clear.

But as soon as those words left his mouth, he forgot something. He forgot everyone around him, was listening to the conversation they were having.

(Y/n) froze in her position, like she thought maybe if she stood still entirely, the time would too. Pretend like he didn’t just say that through the radio. But she could feel her brother’s eyes burning into her skin. Eddie’s eyes grew wide at the words he had just heard.

Busted.

But instead of looking back at Eddie, she chose to grab her radio again. She swallowed as she felt every feeling she could possibly have rushing through her body. “I don’t know Buck.” She answered his question.

Making Eddie realize.

“You are pregnant?” Eddie stumbled with a shocked tone. (Y/n) bit on the inside of her cheek, trying to suppress the stinging feeling on her lower abdomen.

Eddie keeps on shooting questions at her: why didn’t you say anything? How far along are you? Were you even planning on telling me? The team?

“Eddie, for fuck sake stop interigating me” she shot back at him. Her head was hurting, to be honest everything was hurting. From her back, to her stomach, from her head to her toes and everything in between.

“I just don’t get it. Don’t you trust me? The team? If you would’ve told Bobby, maybe you wouldn’t be in this mess now.” Eddie told her, sounding like a dad telling his kids off.

“You and I both know I would’ve ended up exactly the same. Cap would’ve put me on light duties, making me help Hen. But that’s not the point- I was afraid if I told you that I was going to jinx it okay!” she confessed, looking at

The ambulance was creaking once again. Making the two of them be extra careful. “But Eddie, please.. we need to go. The longer we waste, the more blood I lose.”

“You’re right.” Eddie said as he continued to connect the rope to his harness. As in the meanwhile (Y/n) pushed herself carefully up, and got to her feet as slowly and steady as she could.

“Eddie..” the way she said her brother's name made Eddie’s stomach turn. The sound of the metal of the ambulance was becoming louder, he could see her looking around in fear, the terror in her eyes.

Eddie was moving to reach out his hand to his sister, “Ready. Let’s get you-“ he couldn’t even end his sentence as his sister just disappeared in front of his eyes with a blink of an eye.

A horrifying scream left her lips as the gurney yanked itself through the ambulance doors and made the floor beneath her feet disappear.

(Y/n) could practically feel her fingers brushing Eddie’s skin as she reached out at the last second to save herself. But she could feel herself falling. She didn’t know how, or what she did, but out of reflex she could manage to grab a small bar that was attached to the bumper of the ambulance.

The mix of an horrifying cry, Buck’s best friend yelling for his sister and the crash of the van beneath the ambulance down onto the ground made Buck’s stomach turn and set off his alarm Bells inside of him.

The scream he heard went through marrow and bone again like before, Buck thought that scream from before was the worst one he had heard from her, but he was wrong. It was this one that topped every scream. But the sight of his girl struggling to keep a hold of the bar. “Oh my god” Hen gasped as she looked at the scene.

Whatever happened after that, Buck wouldn’t know, he was already running over the scene pulling himself on top of a fallen truck at the bottom of the collapsed bridge.

“Hang on (Y/n)! Hang on baby!” Buck screamed all over the scene, probably loud enough for all the construction workers way back to hear clear as daylight.

Buck didn’t even bother to reattach his harness to one of the spare ropes he used earlier. He wrapped his gloved hand around the rope, and pulled himself closer and closer to be within reach of the ambulance.

She was holding on for dear life, she could feel the skin around her wound starting to stretch. The dots were dancing in her eyes as she tried to use all of her power to keep herself from falling more.

Eddie was trying to get to her, he reached his hand out to her, which she tried to grab, but the gravity was pulling her arm back down.

(Y/n) felt an arm being wrapped around her torso, “I got you! I got you!” Buck said, trying to catch his breath because of the amount of adrenaline he felt inside. “I got her!” Buck called out to the rest of his team as he looked up, to find Eddie.

“Hey, I need you to hold on to this rope okay?” Buck said as he tried to get (Y/n)’s attention. (Y/n) hummed in agreement, as she tried to suppress the pain she felt. She grabbed the rope Buck’s hand was wrapped around and slowly switched from the cold metal of the ambulance to the black rope that was still attached to the upper side of the collapsed scene.

She huffed and groaned at the pain as Buck told her what to do, what they were going to do and how. But they needed to do it quickly and steadily. Sometimes the power in Buck’s arms and (Y/n)’s would run out. “You’re doing so good baby” he gasped into her ear, as they slowly rippled down to the ground with Eddie on their heels.

Buck’s arms were underneath her armpits, as he practically assisted her with moving. The second their feet finally hit the ground, they both let out a relieved sigh. Meanwhile more RA units were arriving on scene.

“Are you good?” Buck asked as soon as they made their way from the pile of rubble onto solid ground. (Y/n) was gasping as she leaned against the rubble, pressing her hand down onto the wound again like she had been doing for minutes. She nodded, “Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Buck said, as he placed her free arm around his shoulder so she could lean her weight onto him.

But she hissed and limped a bit just as soon as she made one step. A soft cry left her lips as she faced the sky, trying to get through the pain. “Just.. a second” she whispered as she pressed her eyes closed again. A worried expression took over Buck’s face, but without a warning, Buck scooped (Y/n) up with his right arm at the back of her knees and his left arm on her lower back. He couldn’t let her be in pain this much longer. “What are you-” she gasped as her feet were swept off the floor.

“Over here! Come on!” Buck called out at the paramedics from the just arrived RA unit who were moving their gurney over the asphalt. As soon as the gurney was in front of Buck, he placed his girl on it. “I think you might need another gurney” (Y/n) said as soon as her eyes fell onto Hen.

Hen gave her a look, basically saying: are you serious right now? That’s what you’re thinking about now? and shook her head. But right after the comment she made, she groaned at the pain as they rolled the gurney towards the ambulance it belonged to.

“This is sergeant Athena Grant.” the oh so familiar voice sounded over the radio. “Wait, wait, wait!” (Y/n) said as she placed her hand onto Buck’s upper arm and gave it a soft squeeze, telling him to stop. “To anyone on scene, I have captain Bobby Nash of the one eighteen, and a civilian. We’re trapped in a container at the bottom of the collapse. He’s pinned, we’re in need of an assist with extraction.” She continued her explanation.

The second Athena mentioned Bobby, (Y/n) pushed herself up from the gurney. But immediately her back got pushed into the gurney again. She didn’t care that she was hurt, or in pain, everybody on their team was injured. And their captain was trapped.

She wanted to help.

“No (Y/n). You’re going to the hospital” Buck strictly told her, as he looked at his team. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Buck-” she sighed. But he directly cut her off. “No, you can’t convince me otherwise. You’re going.” Buck stopped her from changing his opinion.

Buck loved (Y/n). But like mentioned earlier, he was like a dad for Buck. He didn’t have the heart for it to leave the scene without searching for Bobby, to try and help to get him out. He had to make a choice. But choosing between his girl and his father figure, sounded impossible.

Buck turned on his heels, but when he did, he was met by one of his team members. Eddie. “Buck.. go be with her.” Eddie said, pointing at his sister. But Buck shook his head as he tried to scan the scene behind Eddie for a collapsed container. “I can’t- I need to find Bobby.” Buck said determined, as he tried to move around Eddie.

Eddie held his hand out to Buck, as some kind of bouncer, he wouldn’t let Buck into this club, in this case, on the scene. “You can, and you will. Go with her” Eddie said as his hand bumped into Buck’s chest. “But Ed-” Buck stumbled.

“We will find Bobby, we got this.”Eddie gave Buck a small, soft push. “But I need you, to look after my sister. She needs you, and now even more than ever.” he added. Buck sighed, he knew Eddie was right. He glanced over his shoulder as he watched (Y/n) being pushed towards the ambulance.

But still, he hesitated. For just a second.

“Okay” Buck sighed, earning a nod from Eddie, practically saying a non-verbal thank you. Eddie turned on his heels, to try to help the rest of the team searching for their captain, but when he had just taken a few steps from Buck, he called out Eddie’s name. Making him stop in his tracks, and face Buck. “Promise me you’ll find him and get him back to us.” Buck said.

“I promise.” Eddie answered, giving Buck a small smile. “Now, get out of here.”

-

(Y/n) watched the ceiling go from a bright blue, cloudless Los Angeles sky, to an “incredible” white office kind of ceiling. The oxygen mask was sticking to her skin, as she could still taste the concrete dust on her lips.

Everything around her was moving so slowly, the two paramedics from the other station were pushing the gurney. One at the back and one was pulling at the front where (Y/n)’s head was. Buck on the other hand was helping or at least assisting from the side, as he a few times glanced at the girl on the gurney.

“We’ve got an abdominal puncture wound, it seems to have missed major organs.” The paramedic in charge said, as one of the nurses fastened to the gurney to assist. “Already pushed two milligrams of morphine” the paramedic added as they pushed (Y/n) through the second pair of doors.

(Y/n) let her bloody hand grab the oxygen mask, and disconnected the mask from her sticky, dirty skin. “Make that four milligrams, it’s hard to see when you’re sideways.” She added to the explanation of the paramedic as she glanced over to Buck.

Buck couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, he placed his hand onto her’s which was holding the oxygen mask, and helped it place back where it belonged. He brushed his thumb over her hand, “Not to forget to mention that she’s pregnant” Buck added, without looking at any other person in the room but her.

The gurney was being pushed through another set of doors, as they finally entered the emergency room. Buck followed, he wanted to be there for her until she was being brought to surgery. “Trauma bay twelve” a female doctor's voice said, pointing to the right area. To be honest, (Y/n) wasn’t paying much attention to what was happening in the room. There were a hundred different things happening in the ER, and the only things she wanted were: the hole in her stomach being fixed and someone telling her that her baby was doing fine.

“You know you kinda look like Peter Parker in Endgame.” (Y/n) broke the silence as she was waiting on her gurney with Buck right next to it. Buck looked fully confused at his girl, what was she talking about? She pointed with her index finger at her face. “The dust and blood on your face.” she clarified, making Buck remember that he had in fact still had a head wound.

When (Y/n) was in surgery, Buck had been moved himself to the waiting room, where he had been now for way too long. Someone from the nurses did come to Buck, asking if he was okay and if he needed to be checked out. But he told them no, he was fine. The wound on his head was the least he was worried about. He needed his team to be fine.

He had been way too long in this waiting room now. Everybody from the 118 had been discharged but Bobby and (Y/n). Buck had his hands clasped together, and placed against his head, making it look like a prayer.

He was so out of the world that he didn’t realize Athena was standing next to him. She tapped him on the shoulder, while holding two cups of coffee in her hand. “Coffee?” she softly asked as she held it in front of his face.

His hands unclasped as he sighed, “thank you.” he said as he accepted the cup of coffee from Athena. “Doctors think they can release Bobby tonight. You?” Athena tried to start a conversation. “Uhm.. They’re finishing up some tests now, but the doctor said she’ll be fine. When the tests are clear, she’ll be released tomorrow morning.” Buck took a while to explain to Athena.

“You did good on that scene Buck.” Athena said as she took place in the seat next to Buck, the seat was being separated by a small table with a lamp. Buck held the cup of coffee between his hands as he stared into the distance. “Yeah? But why do I still have the feeling I failed?” he asked, as the heat of the cup warmed his hands.

“Buck, you stepped up when nobody else could or did. Maybe not everything did go as planned-” Athena tried to see the bright side of the situation. But it didn’t sit right with Buck. “She fell through the doors.” he started, as he kept his eyes across from him. ”The ambulance started moving, and the gurney went through the doors, taking (Y/n) with it.” he continued.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that he didn’t think of that. He should’ve known the gurney would’ve yanked itself through the doors. He felt like he didn’t make enough scenarios in his head. He did make enough fake scenarios in his head, but didn’t think of that one.

“Buck.. listen, that wasn’t on you.” Athena started, ”You couldn’t have known the gurney would slip through the doors. That was impotence.” she added as she looked at Buck’s side profile.

On that note, he remained silent. She had a point. He took care of everything, and there would be some things he couldn’t control, like the gurney going through that, or the ground beginning to shift. He just nodded his head, telling himself she was right.

The silence remained for at least a small twenty seconds. “Did I hear it correctly? (Y/n) is pregnant?” Athena changed the subject. Buck glanced at Athena, looking confused. “Uh, yeah..” he said in a confused tone, “H-how?” he stumbled.

“Good news travels fast.” she smiled at him. ”Congratulations Buckaroo.” she said as she placed her hand onto his shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “You’re going to be a great dad.” she continued to smile.

“(Y/n) Diaz?” Buck looked confused around, as he found the nurse holding a clipboard with pen in her hand. “Go” Athena whispered, as she pushed Buck softly. He stood up from the chair he was in, and handed his cup over at Athena. He didn’t even take one sip of his coffee, but that didn’t matter.

As fast as he could and wandered to the nurse. “She’s fine. Her wound has been patched up and we’ve made an ultrasound for the baby, who’s safely in the mother’s belly. If you want, you can see her now. She’s still in the ER, bay twelve.” the nurse told Buck.

It felt like a brick had been lifted off Buck’s chest, and he was finally able to breathe. He let out a deep sigh, as he felt the tears burning in his eyes.

She was fine. The baby was fine. They were going to be fine.

“Thank you.” he gasped, as he glanced one more time at Athena for some kind of approval. She gave him a small nod, and then he took off. He burst through the ER doors, aiming for trauma bay twelve. He kept repeating the number on his lips as he finally spotted his girl, in one of those awful hospital gowns. But on her, it looked amazing. She could wear a trashbag and still look amazing.

“Hi” the small greeting fell off her lips. A smile appeared on his face as he came closer. “Hi honey” he said, as he wrapped his arms around her. The feeling of her arms being wrapped around his body sent shivers down his spine. He didn’t know how long they were holding each other like that. It could’ve been minutes.

The grip around his body loosened, as (Y/n)’s hands slipped over his back, over his shoulders to his cheeks. Her warm hands were placed on his cheeks, as he leaned into her touch. “You’re okay” he whispered, making her smile. “No..” she said, making Buck’s smile slightly disappear, morphing into a confused look. “We are” she continued, placing her hand on her stomach.

The smile that disappeared, reappeared on his face. “You know what I also read?” she started, as she felt Buck’s warm lips attached to her forehead. “What did you read?” he asked, at the beginning of the day he was done with the articles. But right now, he knew he had to cherish the moment, because what if he didn’t get to her in time?

“Talking early to your child in the womb, they will recognize your voice sooner.” she continued, as she smiled at Buck and rubbed her hand over her belly.

He smiles as he retrieves out of her touch, and pulls one of the rolling chairs closer to him. One of the chairs doctors would use. He placed his face close to her side, on the same height of her belly. “Hi there, it’s your dad speaking..” he said softly, doubting if he should do this. It felt weird calling himself a dad now, even though he knew he was going to be one within thirty or more weeks.

“I hope your place is comfortable and warm. But I need you to do one thing..” He continued his one sided conversation as he glanced at (Y/n), her hand was placed on the back of his head, her hand softly tracing through his curls.

He turned his head back to the belly, as his warm hand touched her stomach with only the fabric of the hospital gown keeping them apart. “Be sweet for your mommy okay? I know she’s strong, and incredibly stubborn.” he grinned.

As soon as the word stubborn left his mouth, he smiled, but immediately received a flat hand on the back of his head which she used to trace through with her hand, just a second ago. “Alright, sorry. That was mean.” he apologized.

“But she has to carry you for at least forty weeks. So no morning sickness, or bigger breasts, or even random nosebleeds.” Buck’s voice sounded over the small trauma bay they were in as he kept his voice soft and low.

“Just stay in there, get comfortable. Mommy got you, trust me.”

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

[delusionaldeadgirl]

Adore Me

Spencer Reid x famous singer!reader

Summary: Spencer takes his friends to see his girlfriend at her live show in DC. He didn’t realize she was going to play a specific song about him that has him blushing and his friends joking about it

a/n: This is a random draft based on Juno by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s not chronological with the other one I posted. Nice comments are appreciated lol.

Spencer sat in the dimly lit venue next to his friends. The buzz of excitement filled the air as the crowd eagerly awaited performance of famous singer Y/N—who just so happened to be his girlfriend.

As the lights went down, the audience erupted in cheers. His heart raced as he looked at his friends. They were genuinely excited, especially Penelope. She had been talking about this ever since Spencer asked them all to come.

When Y/N stepped into the spotlight, wearing a stunning outfit that sparkled in the stage light, Spencer was left speechless. Her voice flowed through the crowd, captivating the crowd, mostly filled by young women. He couldn’t help but smile watching her interact with her fans.

Then she started singing one of her newest songs, one Spencer was surprised by when it started playing. One of Y/N’s most suggestive songs, obviously about him.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah you just get it.”

“Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad’s genetics”

Spencer blushed. Side eyeing Derek already knowing the look on his face and the playful banter that was to come. It was obvious to the whole room what the innuendos implied.

Derek leaned over, grinning. “Your girlfriend is something else, Reid. You sure you can handle all that?” Spencer stuttered trying to form a rebuttal but he like Emily always said “And just like that, IQ 187 is slashed to 60”.

The song progressed. Getting more and more suggestive making Spencer more and more bashful.

“I know you want my touch for life.”

“If you love me right then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

His colleagues kept looking at him, trying to suppress their laughter at his reaction. “Looks like someone’s blushing” Emily joked.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love.”

“Oh, late at night I’m thinking ‘bout you, ah”

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Y/N gets down on her elbows and knees looking directly at Spencer with a suggestive smile on her face.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Spencer immediately buried is face in his hands. His friends hooting and cheering before they turned to look at his reaction. It was both thrilling and mortifying watching his girlfriend exude such confidence on stage. Thrilling because of how talented she is, mortifying because of how his friends were looking at him right now.

The song started to slow down a little, getting to the bridge. The most direct lyrics about to be sang. He was not mentally prepared for this.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

Y/N began to slowly walk over to the side of the stage facing Spencer.

“Mark your territory.”

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang making direct eye contact with him. He was so done. The team’s genius swore he was brain dead by how entranced he was by her.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

She sang again as she got down on her knees once more. Laying on her back suggestively.

“I’m so fucking horny.”

At this point the whole audience could tell who she was performing this song for.

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang one last time before getting back on and proceeding with the rest of the show.

Not only were Spencer’s friends speechless, but for what felt like the first time ever, so was he.

When the show ended, the crowd erupted in cheers once more as Y/N bowed, her eyes searching for Spencer in the crowd. The moment she spotted him, her expression softened, and she smiled excitedly.

After the show, Spencer approached her, still flushed. "You were amazing," he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky. "Thanks, babe! Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye. “Uh yeah” he stuttered. “Maybe a little bit too much” Derek interjected with a laugh.

Y/N laughed, stepping closer. “You know, I was thinking about that song…”

Spencer swallowed hard, antsy to figure out where this was going. “Yeah?” he asked. “Maybe we can recreate it later” she whispered, winking at him.

His heart raced at her suggestion, and he felt both flattered and flustered. "I'd like that," he replied, unable to suppress his cheeks blushing even harder.

“So how about some after show drinks?” she suggested to the group. They all erupted in cheers of agreement.

As they walked out of the venue, Derek whispered to Penelope “I didn’t think Spencer watched anything but documentaries. How does he know what Juno is?” She just laughed shrugging her shoulders.

[muzansfangs]

Can you do a Bloody Mary with Choso from jjk with a breeding kink ice cube 🥹

if you could tag me that would be amazing, my @ is hauntedchoso but I’m asking on my main blog on anon since that one is a side blog 😅

I still don’t like you.

Starring: Choso Kamo x f!reader; mention to Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna, Hiromi Higuruma;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, choking, hate sex, vaginal sex, degradation kink, overstimulation, breeding kink, creamipie, enemies to undefined relationship, face slapping, canonic fight but in a domestic scenario, post Shibuya with some narrative alterations;

Plot: Choso Kamo, Yuji’s older brother, never got along with you. He claimed you were nothing but a nuisance. On the other hand, you never really trusted him. You never believed in his sudden redemption arc and it was clear to see in the way you never desisted from insinuating he was plotting something devious. When Yuji needed a place to sleep while moving to his new flat, you did not expect for his ‘brother’ to step into your house too. When you found yourself alone with Choso, things degenerated.

Drink chosen: BLOODY MARY (hate sex, choking, vaginal sex, degradation kink, overstimulation);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

You were more than glad to put Yuji up for a week. He was caught up in the middle of moving from his old flat to a larger one and he needed a place to sleep and leave his belongings in, while he settled down in his new home. It was not located far away from your apartment, hence his ultimate choice to knock on your door and ask for hospitality. You had heard one of the main reasons behind his decison to opt for a more comfortable and spacious house was the unexpected presence of his brother Choso in his life, however you did not calculate the possibility to find said man standing on your front door with a luggage at his feet and an annoyed expression plastered on his perpetually impassive face.

Swallowing your pride and biting your tongue not to cause a commotion, you had let him in and agreed to let your enemy reside in your living room until him and his younger brother could finally move to their new flat. For the first three days, things worked out, somehow. It was well-known you detested Choso with a passion. You never really trusted him, since you had been the one who had fought him alongside Yuji back then. You vividly remembered the hatred in his eyes, how hellbent to kill your friend he was, only to show up later on and claiming he wanted to help out and protect his ‘brother’.

He was too shady in your opinion and you had suggested more than once to kill him off. Honestly, you had even declared that Ryomen Sukuna was a better company than him. Daily altercations and brutal fights got so frequent and gory that the ever so noble Hiromi Higuruma had set up the rule of not letting you two casually meet, or work together for a couple of months. It helped, strangely.

Nevertheless, watching Choso occupy your treasured spot on the couch, flicking channels dispassionately, you felt bile go up your throat. Your favorite show was about to air and you had no intention to waste your chance to watch it live.

“Move” you started flatly, arms crossed against your torso.

Choso arched a dark eyebrow, tilting his head to the side to look back at the screen. He was downright ignoring you, fingers tapping onto the armrest steadily, whilst he pretended you did not exist. The audacity he had to disrespect you in your own house blinded you.

You blocked his view on the screen, eyes clouded over in sheer indignation “Are you suddenly deaf? Move your ass and give me the remote” you tried again and, albeit your tone was still modulated to take a polite edge, he could tell you were gradually losing your self-control. Typical of you.

He averted his eyes from the small glimpse of the tv your frame granted a view of “Did you say something?”.

“Choso” you coldly stated, taking a single step towards him. You knew he was testing your patience. It had always appeared to you that guy loved watching you get riled up. Considering Yuji had left for a mission, you had no qualms about vomiting your unbridled odium for the rascal taking over your tv.

As a response, he leaned forward, droopy eyes eyeing you bumptiously “Is the german shepherd upset? What is it, Yuji hasn’t patted your head on his way out?”.

Your eye twitched “Did you just imply I’m a dog?”.

“Did I? Actually, you’re not very obedient. But maybe we could test it out. Tell me, is it true dogs bring back the objects humans throw away?” Choso asked you, cocking his head to the side, hand curled around the plastic remote while he seemed so deep in thought, as if he was mulling something over.

You blinked at his provocation, his words leaving little space for you to actually forgive his ignorance and let it slide. If he had a roof over his head, it was because you had kindly allowed him to stay. You still hated his guts and, honestly, all you were waiting for was for him to screw up, make a false step, betray Yuji or another sorcerer so that you could finally murder him without remorse. However, for the sake of your mental health and to respect your friends’s will, you were making progresses in burying the hatchet. Too bad he did not appreciate it.

You turned your back at him, contemplating the possibility to lock yourself in your bedroom until Yuji was back. Actually, though, you did not even make it to the corridor that the remote smashed against the wall at your left. Batteries skimming over the floor, you watched the device completely shattered into smithereens before your eyes. It took you a moment to put the pieces together and realize he had indeed tossed the remote at you, probably hoping to strike you. This was, without the shadow of a doubt, an invitation to throw hands. And who were you to refuse?

“Come on, doggy, bring it back now” Choso taunted you, arms opening in a welcoming gesture as he stood up from the couch.

The moment you locked eyes with him, Choso knew you were not going to be the bigger person and merely report his shenanigans to Yuji. This was your chance to put him in his place and that is exactly what you did, when you teleported yourself back in front of him and stomped your foot over his crotch.

Choso grunted, eyes narrowing as he clutched his hands over his groin in a futile attempt to alleviate the pain. After a few seconds, he had his hand wrapped around your neck and his forehead was pressed against yours to lock you down in a deadly grip stealing the air out of your lungs. The assault caused you to stumble and topple over the coffee table behind you, flapping your arms around to shove him off of you now that you were squashed onto the floor by his weight.

You truly tried your best to push him off of you, but his compact build was crashing you and, consequentially, your movements were restricted. His face was close, his minty breath wafting over you visage sent frissons down your spine and you felt repulsed by your own instict. Choso was handsome, to be completely honest. You hated his guts and prayed night and day for him to combust inexplicably before your eyes. Yet, this bastard was absolutely your type. The punk guy you would throw your panties at during a concert, the perfect match for a messy hook up in the back of a bar.

How ironic was it that you were having such thought right when he had you pinned underneath him?

Huffing in distress, you wrapped your legs around his waist, hellbent to flip you over but yiu failed and surprisingly Choso only pressed himself closer to you. Your clothed pelvis made contact with his crotch, a slight gasp leaving his lips as he applied more pressure on your windpipe. He was getting hard.

“You sick pervert…” you taunted him, despite your current position and blatant disadvantage.

His jaw tensed, hand leaving your throat, only deliver a slap on your right cheek more meant to mock you than actually hurt you. Factually, it aroused you. Even if you were not going to admit it to yourself, he rubbed it on your face “Me, huh? Tell me why your leggins are soaking my pants then, you slut”.

Mortification took you over for a few seconds, before you reached your hand up to grab a fist full of his hair, your lively eyes clouded over in a mix of rage and desire to take your immensurable anger on him. Probably, you were both acting like feral animals. Nor you, neither him relied on rationaly and intellect. This was a matter of power and, for once, you reeled at the thought of baring your fangs and howling like a beast.

“Maybe I had only fingered myself in my bedroom, it’s clearly not for you. — you cooed, a malicious smirk curving your glossy lips as you pulled at his chestnut brown strands to emphasize your words — Don’t tell me you were getting hard thinking it was for you? How pathetic, Choso… Humping me like a dog, feeding yourself a sweet little lie to boost your ego, damn… Look at you” you sneered, watching his face contort in discomfort for your cruel grip on his hair and utter intollerance for the demeaning words you were throwing at his face. If you itched to humiliate him, then he was going to pay you back with an equal treatment.

“What a slut… — Choso rasped out, glowering down at you with homicidal rage flickering in his dark eyes — You fingered yourself like a dog in heat, huh? No one to breed that pussy, all alone, except for the unsolicited company of the man you wish to see in a coffin. Let’s do something about that attitude of yours, huh? Honestly, I was waiting for us to be alone again” he hissed, before pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.

Your eyes initially grew round in bewilderment, especially when he began to scramble his hands down your body to search for the waistband of your leggins. Yet, you could not turn down such a chance to make hin whimper, to show him you could withstand anything, while he could not. You kissed him back confidently, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip heedless of his groan of pain.

This was until he yanked your pants down your legs, your slippers knocked away in the process of stripping you naked. With your legs finally free again, you attempted once again to flip you over, but Choso grasped your ankles and pinned you down roughly.

“No, don’t even think about it” he warned you coldly, raising on his knees to get rid of his own clothes.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, eyes trailing down his chiseled pectorals and abs, mentally cursing him for how handsome he was. You could not confess you wished you could ran your tongue on every dip and hard muscle of his body though. You still liked to tell yourself he thought you were just agreeing because you were horny, not because you liked him.

“Instead of mentally fucking yourself on my cock, take off this poor excuse of an underwear you’re wearing” he caught you red-handed. Your cheeks heated up in shame and you scoffed indignantly at him, complying to his request without further ado for the sake of your throbbing need. And his one, apparently, pulsating before your clouded over eyes. Straight as a ramroad, leaking precum on the tip. A drop timidly peeked on the edge, running down the underside of his member.

You acted before mulling over your option and you lounged towards him in a split second. Choso arched an eyebrow, fingers threading through your hair inelegantly as he lolled his head back to suppress a groan bubbling up deep within his chest. Your tongue eagerly lapped at the veiny underside of his cock, tracing the curve up until you collected that salty drop to swallow down before his eyes. You circled the tip, half-lidded gaze peering up at him, expecting him to push you forwards to make you suck him off properly. But instead he shoved you back down on the floor, rolling onto your stomach and spreading your arses to grant himself a good view of your glistening intimacy.

On your hands and knees, you glanced at him from above your shoulder “What the fuck are you doing?”.

Choso did not even spare you a look, instead giving your pussy a slap to send jolts of electricity cursing through your body. You cried out in need, earning a pleased hum from the bastard behind you “You are not worthy to suck my cock. — he replied, lining his shaft to your opening to collect some juices and facilitate his entrace — But I’ll surely pump so full of my cum you’ll soon have to tell Hiromi who made you pregnant” he commented bitterly, before pushing past your folds with a satisfied grunt.

The strained moan you emitted, mortified you. His girth was absurdly perfect for you. Each thrust, each time he rolled his hips against yours you trembled. His words had made color drain from your face, but you soon found yourself arching your back to give him an even better access.

Choso watched in glee your ass jiggle with each thrust he gave you. One of his hand reached down and slided to the upfront of your neck, fingers deftly latching around it as he pulled you up against his broad chest. Your back pressed against his abs, clammy bodies, breathy moans, you felt like two animals. He kissed your neck ferociously, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he attempted to reach his end into you.

Choso needed to stain you. The idea of you, so petty and standoffish, walking around with his seed leaking in your panties when you talked to your friend made him increadibly eager to ruin you. On the other hand, you were too lost into the pressure coiling in your lower abdomen to think straight. His breath-play, his relentless pace and the dull track of pain you felt when he occasionally hit your cervix made you see the stars and the whole galaxy expanding infinitely in the limitless ocean of space. You wished he fucked you less good than this, because there was honestly no way in Hell you were going to forget the pleasure you were experiencing for years to come.

Almost reading your mind, Choso huffed “What is it, bitch? Are you scared from that from this day on you won’t be able to look me in the eyes without remembering how loud I have made you scream today?” he flaunted, as you shot him a glacial glare through your lashes and tears.

You tightened around him, his other hand travelling over your stomach and holding you close to his body “Don’t flatter yourself over a hook up! I still don’t like you” you fired back, matching his tempo to spare the time and doubling the sensation of your walls and his dick continuously brushing together in the overwhelmingly impressive bliss.

When you thought of Choso, you did not think he was a virgin. He had good looks, he was shady enough for some pretty and shallow girl to fall at his feet and give him the regular dose of endorphins a man needed not to spend the night with blue balls. Despite that, you were firmly convinced he was not much experienced, especially in terms of seeking and finding all the sweet spots that could bring tears of ecstasy in a woman’s eyes.

Choso bristled, mouth close to your ear, as he pounded into you with a renewed vigour “Is that so? Then you better not wallow in the false hope that I have outdone myself for you. — he rasped out, shoving you face down again, you cheek making a harsh impact with the floorboard — This is how I fuck. It’s standard, nothing special” he spluttered, his thrusts gradually but surely getting sloppier. Regrettably, though, they were still hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

You gawked, screwing your eyes shut and banging your fist onto the floor in defeat. You were about to reach your climax and your snarky attitude had apparently left your body. Blank mind, your body twitched, until you milked him up and basked in the only good thing Choso Kamo had ever done for you.

He cussed when your spongy walls sucked him in, his seed painting your inner walls white as he made sure to push back in the excessive amount leaking out of you. The damage was done. But no one was a victor, judging by the disheveled hair and bruises on your bodies. Spent, you two recovered from your irresponsible stunt in silence, laying spent and drained in the floor of your living room. The tv casted lights in the dimly illuminated room, setting off your naked curves and his sharp features.

Not only you were a mess, but you also had to clean up the floor from the sweat and fluids staining in, representing the last evidence of the deplorable mishap recently happened. Yuji could not know about this. No one was entitled to have a word about what you two had done. Nor you, neither Choso offered the agreement of not talking about this anymore and to anyone, but sharing a knowing look with him, you realized he was back to make good use of his brain.

Standing up on your wobbly legs, you collected your clothes and gestured to a mop on the balcony “Clean yourself up and wipe away that mess, asshole” you croaked out, heading towards your bedroom in a frenzy.

“Do it yourself, whore”.

You smiled. This was the Choso Kamo you knew.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I have finally finished this fic, help!Since it is also one of the requests I have received when I hosted my event, my joy for having crossed it out of the list is doubled. Let me know what you think about this. As per usual, likes, comments and re-blogs are greatly appreciated!

Love,

Luce

TAGS: @axesfordays @jenntlegarden @cyder-puff @wet-cedar @pin-k-ink @bakugosgirl01 @hauntedchoso @makingtimemine @dangertits97

[hedwig221b]

a snippet of my sterek twilight au as a treat for all of you 🖤🐺🫀

Stiles was glad to see Derek waiting for him. They walked out of the class together, though Derek caught his sleeve soon after and led him to the side of the hall. He waited as the students passed them before speaking.

“I wanted to ask you. About the spring dance…”

Stiles’ heart skipped a beat at those words. He tried to remain cool and unaffected but Derek grinned either way.

“I heard you were going to Seattle,” he finished.

Stiles blinked at him, hoping the warmth didn’t show on his cheeks. “Uh, yeah?”

“I was wondering if I could drive you.”

Stiles stared at him. “Huh?”

“Do you want a drive to Seattle?”

“W-with you?”

“Uh, yeah.”

This… was kind of sudden. Last week they didn’t talk at all, and now Derek was offering him… a ride? Alone in the car for two fucking hours with Derek fucking Hale? Who was, by the way, smiling again?

“My car works fine,” Stiles blurted and immediately cursed himself. Why the fuck did he just say that? Why?!

But Derek only smirked. “I saw you wrapping tape around the wires last Thursday. If you think it’ll survive the drive to Seattle, you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”

“So… you were looking at me.”

“Yes.”

They stared at each other.

Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way Derek’s eyes lightened. His whole face, so handsome yet so grim before, was nothing but soft now. Relaxed.

It couldn’t mean anything except one thing. It really was about Stiles — his gloom and glare, his dark circles and lack of appetite at lunch. There was no denying it. All of Stiles’ doubts paled before the sharp glint of the evidence.

Whatever tension was between them, it only grew each time they spoke. They both knew it, felt it, thick, viscous, and sweet like honey. It left them wanting more.

Standing still in the buzzing corridor, they let the noise wash over them. Both came to a silent conclusion that they would not be able to stay apart. They tried, and look what it led to. None of them wanted to resist the pull.

Stiles pursed his lips in a smile. Derek’s glance slipped to his mouth and back before he, too, huffed out a laugh.

“Can I drive you to Seattle?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” Stiles said quietly and watched the grin bloom on Derek’s lips.

He forgot the last time he felt this light.

[divider link]

[seitmai]

“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”

They are very eager, maybe a little too much to "get" a little sister 🫣

His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin. “Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?

Someone had to tell them lol

“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end. “Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”

This is not going well🥴

You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.

😬😬😬

He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car. “Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”

Puhh he really just sees or hearswhat he wants to see or hear 🥴

“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.” The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?” “I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”

He knows exactly how to push her buttons

A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?” “I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?” He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”

Geez, what a request to end the day 🫣

Hold You Tight: Part 9

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 8 | Series Masterlist | Part 10

Chapter Summary: Bucky takes you home, but will he keep his hands to himself?

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.7k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, dirty talk, unease, possessiveness, inner turmoil, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You thought you heard the men wish you well once more when Bucky led you out of the office. You weren’t completely sure since you tried to block everything out, but attempting to disassociate wouldn’t exactly do you any good. The night wasn’t over yet and you had to stay sharp. You didn’t know what Bucky had planned for when he got you home. Were you prepared at all?

Not in the least.

You half expected to walk back through the front of the club to leave, but Ray directed you to a door near the back once he gave Bucky a nod. The car was waiting in the alley and you took a moment to glance up at the sky. You could only make out one star and you wished in that moment you could grow wings and fly away. But when did wishing upon a star do you any good?

“Let’s get you back to your place,” Bucky said, helping you into the car.

You had to give him credit for trying to keep up his end of the bargain by getting you home on time. Your body refused to relax though once he sat beside you and took your hand. Was he trying to get you accustomed to his touch? Make you crave him? It bothered you that in spite of your determination he drew you in to a certain degree. But you wouldn’t let him take you to bed tonight. You weren’t ready to cross that inevitable line.

Maybe, just maybe, if your performance in bed disappointed him, he’d get bored and walk away. The thought almost made you laugh. That wasn’t happening. If anything, he’d probably love teaching you how to be his perfect lover.

“I think tonight went well,” Bucky smiled.

“Which part exactly?” You mumbled, pulling your hand away. The part where he forced you to go, how his men all but admitted they knew Bucky stalked you, or how they beat the hell out of a man?

“Just the night in general. I knew everyone would love you, but I really think Thor wants to be your big brother now,” Bucky replied. You wanted it so badly to be endearing, but Thor was dangerous. He mentioned a father-in-law. How exactly did he find his wife? And bringing up the flower donations to the hospital. Bucky seemed upset. Why? “Which he’ll have to fight Steve for.”

“Fighting. You guys seem to excel in that arena,” you said, remembering how they all took turns beating up John. “But I guess Steve does have a bit of that ‘big brother’ vibe, helping you take total control of my life and whatnot.”

“Not total control. I’m still letting you work, but maybe I can buy the shop.” He chuckled at your thunderous expression. The light threat had you seeing red. “I probably shouldn't joke about that, should I?”

“Letting me work? Like it’s your decision? And don’t you dare buy the shop.” You pushed at him to keep from slapping him when he chuckled again. Not with enough force to get him far away from you, but you needed some sort of space in the vehicle. He also needed a good hit over the head. “You’re a bully, do you know that? So are your friends.”

His laughter died off quickly when he reached out and gently took your hand again, prying your fingers away from your palm. You didn’t notice it stung from your nails until he brought your hand to his mouth and kissed it. “You think we’re bullies?” He asked against your skin.

“Yes. Besides nearly beating that jerk to death, you do realize that you use force and threats to dominate and intimidate. That’s a form of bullying, Bucky,” you said. Was he deliberately being obtuse or was he lost in his delusion that this was all normal?

“I wouldn’t say we’re bullies. I call it protecting and keeping what’s mine,” he said. There was no shame on his end.

“Right. Because I’m a possession and not a person,” you said, your face scrunching up as you tried not to cry. You needed rest. If part of Bucky’s plan was to wear you down by overwhelming you, mission accomplished. “I’m so tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“You’re a person, not a possession, Kotyonok. And not just a person, a good person who gives so much of herself to others. And probably one of the only people who rightfully calls me out on my shit.” His response drew you up short. “Outside of my friends, no one else does that.”

“Maybe because they’re afraid of you and what you can do,” you said after a moment. Fear could make anyone say what they thought people wanted to hear. “Either that or they want your approval,” you added, which you could also understand to a point. People wanted a sense of belonging, especially with those who had influence and power.

“Maybe they are afraid,” he agreed, brushing his lips against your palm again with a sigh. “What is it about me that scares you most?”

“I’m not really sure exactly,” you admitted. There was so much about the situation that terrified you. What he was capable of. How he inserted himself into various aspects of your life and so quickly. How far he was willing to go to keep you. “But I think it’s your conviction. That you’re so sure that I’m your other half and no one can convince you otherwise, not even me.”

You could scream until your lungs gave out that you didn’t belong with him and you knew in your heart he’d argue until his last breath that you did. He was steadfast in that belief that you were soulmates. That conviction was so strong that what you really feared was that he would somehow convince you that he was right: that you belonged together.

Those steel blue eyes of his met yours and mesmerized you for a heartbeat before you looked away. “Love is scary. It’s natural to be afraid of it.” His lips brushed your ear, making you shiver. “But giving someone the most fragile parts of yourself is one of the bravest things a person can do.”

There was truth in his words, but it felt like he moved another chess piece into place. He was trying to disarm you and you couldn’t let him. “Who painted that black dahlia in your office?” You asked suddenly, feeling him move back enough that you could turn your head toward him. “And why display that flower?” You didn’t believe for a second that he chose it for aesthetic purposes.

“Beautiful, isn't it? Steve painted it,” he replied with an odd mixture of affection and bitterness. “It’s for my parents.”

“Steve is a gifted artist.” You hoped your voice stayed even enough that Bucky wouldn’t get jealous of you complimenting another man’s talent. “I don't know if the symbolism of flowers mean anything to you, but the black dahlia-”

“Betrayal. Sadness. Darkness,” he ticked off, his voice cold enough that another shiver moved through your body. “It was the last flower my dad ever got my mom and it serves as a reminder.”

You swallowed as warning bells sounded in your mind to tread carefully. “And what's that?”

He moved close, your eyes shutting as his hand wrapped around the nape of your neck. “That I'll never do to you what he did to her.”

There was suppressed rage within him. Sorrow. It rolled off him in waves strong enough that they could drown you. He said earlier that his dad got what he deserved. What had he done to his mom?

“You’re in pain,” you whispered. He was hurting and you logically shouldn’t care. So why did you want to know the cause of that hurt? “You have to tell me why.”

It wasn’t for you to use to your advantage. You weren’t sure if you could manipulate someone else. If you knew what happened though, it would at least give you more answers to who Bucky was and why he was the way he was. It could help you gain some sort of understanding.

“I’m not in pain when I’m with you,” he whispered, bringing your hand on his chest. Was he relying on you to chase away whatever haunted him? “Later. I’ve overwhelmed you enough for one evening.”

You let out a breath. You swore he was doing this on purpose, giving you just enough information that you’d wait around until he gave you more. “I can’t argue with you there,” you said, his heart racing under your touch. “Just answer one thing for me, please.”

“What’s that?”

“Marc from the bookstore,” you began, the man’s kind face shimmering in your mind. “Did anything happen to him?”

“I’d question another man being on your mind, but I know you’re just concerned about his well-being.” An easy smile crossed Bucky’s face as you bit your tongue. You could think about anyone you wanted to. “I can’t speak for him right this second, but he was perfectly fine when you and I left. He was just having a chat with one of my associates.”

You exhaled, thankful Marc wasn't hurt. “What kind of chat?” You asked. He was a nice guy, though he did seem to know a bit about Bucky. What exactly was he involved in?

“He just got a warning to be careful about what he does or doesn’t say to his customers.” You tensed before he kissed your forehead. Did he know about the conversation you two had? “And I don’t think the two of you should be alone with each other in the bookstore going forward.”

Just when Bucky had you feeling some sort of sympathy for him moments ago he shocked you right out of it. “Another decision that isn’t yours to make,” you stated, the car coming to a stop. “And you really don’t have to walk me up. I think we’ve had enough of each other’s company tonight.”

“I said I’m tucking you into bed and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.” The smile he gave you was nothing short of cocky when he added, “And you owe me a photo. I’m going to get it.”

He was a dog with a bone. He wouldn’t let that go. “Why don’t you just take a photo of me giving you the finger?” You suggested as he helped you out of the car.

“Only if you do it with a smile. I’ll even set it as the background on my phone,” he winked. Your reluctance and defiance of him didn’t phase him in the slightest. “And if you give me the finger, I’ll take it as an invitation that you want to fuck me.”

“Let’s go, please.”

You said nothing else as you went into the building, your anxiety mounting by the second. The slow rise of the elevator didn’t help, Bucky’s hip pressed against yours like he couldn’t stand to have space between you. You figure he’d shove you against the wall and claim your mouth, but he didn’t make a move. It impressed you that he behaved until you got to your floor. It didn’t stop your hand from shaking when you got your keys out.

“Still don’t want to say good night now?”

“I don’t want to say good night at all,” he answered, following you into the apartment and turning on the light. The welcoming feeling you expected when you got home wasn't there. There was a chill in the usual warmth.

“Well, you’ll have to sooner or later,” you said, swallowing when you faced Bucky. He shut the door and watched intently as you set your keys and bag down. You were quiet as you stared back, tension thick as you tried to predict what he was going to do. Once again, he managed to hold all the power in your home.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?” He asked, heat and hunger in his stare as he slowly advanced.

Your throat went dry as you stepped back. “You have.”

“So beautiful and so good.” You made another move to retreat when he stepped forward, his manner confident and compelling as he reached out and prevented you from moving back further. “It’s driving me crazy not having you yet.”

“Please, you don’t…” you trailed off when he sank to his knees, unexpected heat flowing from your core. He guided one of your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself, his eyes soft as he helped remove one of your shoes. You found it difficult to breathe as he removed the other, his hand brushing your ankle with infinite tenderness. Like it was an honor to touch and be on his knees for you.

“I know the first time I taste you I’ll never want to stop. I’ll have to wake up every day between your thighs. Fall asleep that way, too.” His hand slid up your calf and his eyes darkened when your other hand found its way to his thick locks. Wetness gathered between your legs when his touch moved to your thigh. “Your pussy is hungry for me, isn’t it? My fingers, my tongue, my cock. I’ll feed her well.”

His voice was like velvet. Seductive. Aching. “Bucky…” Your breath rushed out swiftly when he kissed your mound through your clothes, tormenting you with arousal you didn’t ask for. It frightened you.

“I can smell you,” he murmured, nosing along where his lips had been before he sat back. “Smell so fucking good.”

Moving your shoes out of the way, he rose to his full height again as you willed your legs not to shake. You weren’t used to anyone looking at you, let alone speak to you, the way he did. Stark desire. Possessiveness. His form of love. Your heart pounded and you refused to answer him or glance down. If you looked at the front of his pants…

He took your hand and pulled you in the direction of the bedroom. Your heart pounded with mounting speed, your heels digging into the floor. “You still haven't kissed me,” you blurted out, hoping it would prevent him from taking you to bed. Or would he take that as an invitation to kiss your lips?

“No, I haven't.” You tried to keep some distance between you as he went to your bed, his hand moving along the blanket. You couldn't breathe. “It scares you how much your body wants mine, doesn’t it?”

“Is that what you think?” You asked, forcing air back into your lungs. It did scare you. It also scared you that you didn’t push him away or scream when he dropped to his knees to remove your shoes. Where was your fighting instinct?

“It is what I think.” The ease in which he moved away from the bed to your dresser to find your pajamas frightened you, too. Like he belonged in your room. You thought back to the night he broke in and left your gift on your bed. How much time did he take to look around? “Like love, giving your body to someone can be scary. You have to trust that you won't get hurt when you’re physically vulnerable.”

“You swore you wouldn't hurt me,” you reminded him.

“And I won't. But you know what else I think?” His magnetic gaze stayed on you as he brought a nightgown over. “That no guy has ever really taken care of you and you’re apprehensive to let me try.”

If you were apprehensive, it was because he was a walking red flag. “What makes you…” Your words stopped when he grasped the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Your arms instinctively went up before you realized what you were doing. Removing your shirt, you didn’t get a chance to cover your breasts before he slipped the nightgown on you.

“Your past boyfriends never did anything for you. Emotionally, physically,” he stated, sliding his hands under the nightgown to your hips. Grasping the hem of your pants, he pushed them down as far as he could. “I’ll bet they didn’t even buy you flowers and used the excuse that they didn’t because you’re a florist.”

The words were tiny cuts on old wounds, but you wouldn't give him the satisfaction. “And you will?”

“I will. I’ll give you the life and love you deserve, making you forget any other man out there existed before me.” His eyes raked over you as you stepped out of your pants, your panties still soaked. “But I’m not gonna fuck you.”

Exhaling slowly, relief flooded you. Though you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to take what he wanted. “You won’t?”

“Not tonight.” He shook his head even as his fingers moved along your waist. “Like I said, I’ve overwhelmed you enough. Sleeping with you might really put you over the edge.”

“Thanks.” He desired you, but continued to hold it at bay for your sake. How long would that last? “I appreciate that.”

“And we both know the moment I take you to bed, you’ll be begging for more.” His voice dropped as he toyed with the soft fabric. “And as much as I want to stay in bed with you all night and morning and give us what we both crave, I still need to get things in place at the penthouse and you need rest. You understand.”

You tried not to smile and failed. He acted as if he was doing you a favor. Cocky bastard. “I guess we’ll just have to suffer until then.” Sarcasm continued to be a good way to deflect.

He exhaled at your light teasing, his body still a bit tense. Being close to you and not having you was probably driving him mad. “Maybe we'll have to have another private call and finish what we started. Give us both some relief.” He turned you toward the door and gave you a light swat on your ass. “Go wash your face and brush your teeth before I change my mind.”

You made it to the bathroom in record time, not having to be told twice. You didn’t want to risk staying there in case he lost his resolve. Looking in the mirror as you went through the rest of your nighttime routine, you expected to look more exhausted from the whirlwind of the day. You somehow looked wide awake. Was the experience giving you thicker skin? Or did his desire for you somehow give you a bit of a twisted spark? You’d still be billing him for your future therapy bills either way.

A couple of deep breaths and you made your way back to your bedroom. You paused when you saw Bucky holding a framed photo of you and your friends, longing in his eyes when he lifted his gaze. “You look so happy,” he murmured, carefully setting the frame down on the nightstand before he pulled the blankets back for you. “Can you do me one favor and I’ll go?”

“I was happy. It was a fun day.” You slipped into bed when he gave you space to do so, but his body was still close to yours. Firm. Hard. He really could pin you down and do what he wanted if he wished. “What’s the favor?”

He tucked the blanket around you, his hair falling into his face. You almost reached up to brush it back, but refrained. Who knew what your touch would do? “Look at me like you love me. Please.”

You stiffened as you stared up at his face, your heart simultaneously racing and breaking for him. Love was something that provided a sense of connection, fulfillment. It was a way to show you that you weren’t alone in the world. You wanted to believe you were worthy of love, that you could build a life with someone. Bucky believed he was that someone.

Why?

You weren’t sure if it was his yearning gaze or if you were ready for the night to end, but your expression softened as you imagined meeting him in another life. Going on fun dates, talking about books, making each other laugh as you cooked together, snuggling under a blanket as you talked about your future. You found yourself smiling at the images that went through your mind. What could’ve been. What could be if he lessened his hold a bit on you.

He audibly exhaled when he snapped a photo on his phone, making you blink. “Thank you. Now I can look at this whenever I’m not near you and need to feel your love.”

Words escaped you, the invisible collar around your throat getting tighter. You could only nod and wonder how you kept throwing fuel on the fire of his want for you. Which one of you would burn first?

“Get some sleep. Dream sweet dreams.” You felt featherlight kisses on each eyelid when you shut them. “You know, I’ll sleep a lot easier once you’re in my bed.”

“If you get me into your bed,” you mumbled, refusing to look at him.

“Stubborn kitten.” He chuckled and gave each eyelid one more kiss. Why were his lips so soft? “Maybe I’ll stop by the shop tomorrow so I can take you to lunch. You can tell Addison all about it.”

“Maybe.” You yawned and snuggled more into your pillows. “Good night, Bucky.”

A finger moved along your cheek before it stopped abruptly. “Good night, Kotyonok.”

Bucky still hadn't kissed your mouth.

You didn’t open your eyes as he left, but you didn’t fall asleep right away either. Your body was too wound up. Too many questions went through your mind. Like what happened with his parents and how exactly he’d move you out of your place.

The man was a step ahead in everything. You’d be in his penthouse before the month was over. He’d get his way, but maybe it didn't have to be his way completely. He could give you an area in the place for you and you alone. It wouldn’t hurt to ask. After all, he did say he’d make it up to you by dragging you out tonight.

And if he cared the way he said he did, he could give you that one small thing.

Is our poor Kotyonok starting to accept the inevitable? Will Bucky stop by the shop? And how much longer until he really takes you to bed?Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[eggtargaryenii]

EAST OF THE SUN | PART III

"Bastards are supposed to be born of lies and temptation, not love," Jacaerys said, "at least according to the Faith. If we are indeed the bastards of Ser Harwin and my mother, then we are proof that lies and temptation are all that existed between them.” You thought of all the septas and their prayers and Alicent Hightower screaming at you to behave. Bastards are not so different from the daughters of whores, you mused. They see us all as products of sin.

11.1k words, aemond x fem!reader x jacaerys. childhood friends to lovers (except it's cousins), political drama. chapter warnings for targaryen incest and themes of xenophobia/racism and misogyny. dividers from @/cafekitsune.

SERIES SUMMARY & MASTERLIST.

IX. THE EMPRESS

“You raised the girl to be too clever, Alicent. I fear she cannot be controlled.”

Otto Hightower did not often show weakness, but his voice was heavy with exhaustion—or perhaps frustration—as he spoke to Alicent. He was poring over the papers you'd put together for your petition earlier in the day: a detailed summary of all of the records of your father's spending in Essos during his diplomatic visits, presented as evidence that none of your inheritance in the Iron Bank was actually Crown wealth. Apparently you'd gone and stolen the ledgers in the middle of the night—with the help of that Strong bastard, the one who was besotted with you—and done the maths yourself. All current and past Masters of Coin still alive—Lord Beesbury, Prince Daemon and Tyland Lannister—examined your work and could only attest to its accuracy.

It was unprecedented, but not too surprising to Alicent. Of all your lessons as a noble lady—in the Seven, in dancing, in needlework, and so on—you really only ever paid attention to arithmetic and household stewardship. So I may someday be a competent wife and oversee my husband’s affairs, you once explained to Alicent, after my Queen chooses a match for me, of course. When Alicent then advised you that most men enjoyed graceful women who could sing and dance, you had replied to her that you did not want to marry a man—you wanted to marry a lord.

Just as you and your father want me for me, do you not? you had asked. I do not wish to disappoint either of you in that regard. It would be no good for any of us if I married a man who tossed me aside because he met a woman more graceful than I could ever be. But if I kept his household running flawlessly and his accounts full of gold? Well, he might eventually take another lover, but he would never want to take another wife.

You had been so young when you’d said that—younger than she’d been when she wed King Viserys, but no less aware. Alicent understood your play then, and she never chided you for neglecting your needlework ever again.

“The girl has a talent for figures,” Alicent admitted. “She has a keen eye for household management.”

“Figures?” Otto laughed in a way that sounded derisive. “It’s not the maths that impressed me. You can hire any steward to do maths. No, it was her foresight in stealing those ledgers. And the way she talked in the throne room—gods, can she talk!” He laughed, though it was entirely mirthless. “Though I suppose Rhaenyra may have prepared her. The blacks have never been interested in her before, but now it seems that they want her as an ally.”

It did look that way during the petition, with Daemon backing you every time the Hand seemed to corner you. As usual, the man could hardly string together a coherent argument, but he did not need to. What really mattered to all the smallfolk and nobles watching your petition was that every time Otto alluded to your disgrace of a mother and your mongrel pedigree, Daemon never let them forget that you were also a trueborn Targaryen.

You would steal from your kin by marriage? he asked. You would deny her birthright? You would spit in her father’s legacy, after all he has done for the Realm? You would disrespect my niece?

Niece. Alicent found it laughable. Daemon had never spared you a glance as you grew up in the Red Keep, nor did Rhaenyra.

“Of course they want her as an ally,” Alicent said, her words sharp with frustration. “Rhaenyra ignored the girl when she had nothing, but now that she’s come into enough wealth to hire an entire army of sellswords and more, the princess is suddenly her greatest benefactor.”

Alicent was wroth to think of it. She had wanted no part in raising you, had resented you for it when her husband charged her with the duty. She could hardly manage her own children, let alone some foreign waif who was loath to speak the Common Tongue and threw tantrums whenever she was forced to pray at the Sept. Worse yet, your mother had been a bed slave from Lys—a country of harlots, criminals, and sin—and Alicent knew, just knew by looking at you, that you were likely to end up equally sullied. It was in your blood.

But you had no mother.

You were at court, a young and lost girl, and you were entirely motherless. She still remembered how you wept after your mother kissed you goodbye, the way that you would sneak off to Blackwater Bay just to wait for your father to return. Alicent’s heart ached for you then, for she too knew how horrible court could be for a young and motherless girl.

Rhaenyra was your kin by blood. She should have looked out for you. She had been more than capable, but she was too busy with her sham marriage and bastard children and that paramour of hers. What could Alicent do but care for you instead? You had no mother.

The Seven would have never forgiven Alicent if she simply left you to the wolves of the court. She could not leave you to her father’s court. You would not have survived. You would have been married off at ten-and-two to some lord thirty years your senior, tortured in your marriage bed until you were swollen with child while still a child yourself. Alicent could not let it happen.

Even if Alicent would never love you—and she knew she never would—she knew she must still care for you.

And today she watched as you spat in the face of her protection. How you paralyzed her when you turned to Daemon and chided him: I am familiar with the prudence and wisdom of Her Grace, as well as her kindness, you'd said. I know she would never intentionally try to take someone’s rightful inheritance. It is merely an ambiguity of the law that has led us here. She only thinks of the Realm.

Said in front of King Viserys, with his daughter-heir in the room? Alicent had no choice but to support your position, lest she look like a scheming traitor.

And the worst thing about it was that, despite her father’s ponderings, Alicent knew that Rhaenyra had not coached you to say that. For she had raised you, and she knew your talent for speech and for people—and she knew those words came from you alone, and you had learned how to say them from watching Alicent.

Rhaenyra could have never taught you how to appeal to people like that. Rhaenyra had no need, for she could always do whatever she pleased. She could flout the rules and disrespect the entire court, and King Viserys would only protect her. But you—just like Alicent—could not. For you had no mother, and you had no father, and you were the daughter of a foreign whore. All you had was Alicent, and for your sake she tried to make you disavow your sinful mother, for your sake she tried to make you find the light of the Seven, for your sake she tried to beat out of you your wilful nature. For your sake she tried to save your soul from both the Seven Hells and from the judgemental eyes of the Red Keep, the lords and ladies who saw nothing but a sinful whore when they looked at you. But you always resisted, as if you wanted to be a pariah, as if you wanted to suffer despite her best efforts—but Alicent could not hate you.

How could she hate a powerless girl without a mother?

“I do not think it was Rhaenyra who taught her how to speak in court,” Alicent voiced, thinking of all the hours you spent watching petitions, watching her. “Rhaenyra does not know how to handle herself with such grace nor subtlety.”

“Ah. So it was your influence.” Her father laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “If only you had raised Aegon to have even half the talent—then perhaps the King would have changed his mind about his succession.”

Alicent’s fingers tightened, and then she found herself picking at her nails.

“It is no fault of mine that Aegon was born with his disposition,” she said. “I tried my best.”

“You did,” Otto agreed. “You did not fail in all regards. Aemond, at the very least, has talent. Were he your firstborn son and that girl born a Targaryen princess—my, imagine the power they could have on the Iron Throne together. Our family would be untouchable. A pity.”

Alicent’s jaw tightened. She could not hate you, but she also could not stand to think of you sullying any of her sons. Your influence on them had already done irreparable damage. Your habit of tempting men had already driven Aegon into terrorising innocent women with his lust, and whatever silk-sweet words you whispered into Aemond’s ears had turned her lovely boy into someone cold and distant.

No—Alicent could not imagine you wedded to either of them.

“A pity, but there is no use in mourning it,” she dismissed. “Aemond will be matched to a respectable lady of the realm, and we will use the girl to buy the loyalty of a useful lord—as was always your plan.”

“Yes. My plan.” Otto looked at your papers thoughtfully. “I think we will need to make haste with her marriage. The blacks intend to ally with her, and I believe she is too ambitious to decline their offer. We cannot let her inheritance fall into Rhaenyra’s hands—we shall need to find her a match and send her someplace else immediately.”

Alicent swallowed. She had hoped to push for your match to a Northern house. She knew you would be happiest in the North—with people who worshipped the Old Gods, and a husband who was far enough removed from the politics of court to care much about your heritage. Starks were known for their honour, and the Warden in the North had carried himself with great dignity during his time at court. She knew that Cregan Stark would not have mistreated you. Lord Manderly’s son seemed promising as well, and the young Lord Bolton would have been keen for a dragon. But the political benefits of those matches were modest at best, uncertain at worst—Alicent knew her father would not have chosen any of those betrothals for you.

You had no mother. Only she could defend you.

“And where,” she asked carefully, “would we find a match on such short notice?”

She hoped for Lord Stokeworth or the Tully boy. The former was kind and the latter was dutiful, and she had already convinced her father of both proposals. But when the Hand smiled, his eyes glinting sharp, she knew it was neither of them.

“It is, in some ways, fortunate that she is so clever,” he replied. “The Tyrells have been here for the past few days on their own business, and they watched her petition. They were quite impressed with her and have made an offer to take her as a ward—and to eventually marry her to one of their sons.”

Her eyes widened. The Tyrells were one of the great houses, and ordinarily would only be interested in a betrothal with a Targaryen prince or princess. “Was it the talent they wanted,” she asked, “or the gold?”

“The gold for the marriage—and her dragon, of course. But the talent is why they want her as a ward.”

Alicent considered the offer. They likely wanted to groom you for something, and as long as it was not dancing or needlework, it would keep you happily busy. You may eventually find yourself content with such an arrangement. But she could not help but feel that something was amiss. The Tyrells kept strongly to the Faith, and they cared greatly for status. They would not be so eager to take someone like you into their family.

“And which son would they want to squander upon her?” Alicent asked.

“The bastard they just legitimised. To wed a Targaryen lady with a dragon would be quite the achievement for such a man—hardly a squander.”

“You wish to marry her to Arthur Flowers?” she asked, appalled.

“Of course. We are buying the son of a great house with her. The son of our liege lord!”

“Arthur Flowers is a bastard and a raper!”

“Arthur Tyrell is now a legitimate son of the family controlling the Reach!” Otto sighed. “Do not detest me for this, Alicent. We will need to secure all the help we can get when the succession of the Iron Throne is contested.” Otto gave her a severe look. “And remember,” he added, “this has always been your plan too. You have always wanted to use the girl for the sake of your own children—or would you rather that Rhaenyra use her instead?”

Alicent could not say anything. She could not stop this match, she realised. No one would speak in your defence, for you had no mother—you only had her. And Alicent, at the end of the day, was not your mother.

She was a Hightower.

X. TEMPERANCE

The edge of the Kingswood today was peaceful. The sky was a clear blue; the birdsong was a soft warble in your ears. Vhagar—who was old and liked to rest when she was not at war—was calm beneath you, her saddle rising and falling with the rhythm of her breath. Aemond, never one to chatter, was equally quiet. Even though Vhagar had been at rest for a while, your arms were still wrapped tight around his waist, and your cheek was pressed against his back.

You had not held or been held since your parents departed from King’s Landing. Given your reputation, it was impossible for you to touch anyone without setting off whispers, and none of the septas who cared for you had any desire to touch you—your blood was too dirty for it. But sharing a dragon with another person offered a kind of analogue to an embrace; allowed you to feel close to someone without raising brows. You would never admit such a thing aloud, but you liked to ride with people partly because of that.

Aemond was, of course, the only person in King’s Landing who would ever ride with you on any dragon. Ordinarily you would limit contact with him—he did not strike you as a person who particularly liked being touched, and you did not want to scare him off—but you needed to feel close to someone today. You had just spent three days without sleep to prepare for your petition, and during the manic rush of having won it, was approached by Alicent Hightower with dampening news of your betrothal. She'd finished her announcement by requesting that you plan your father’s funeral; it was plainly an attempt to ruin any happiness by reminding you to grieve.

Too proud to show weakness, you’d agreed and committed to yet another three days without sleep.

But you were plainly exhausted. You did not want to think about the funeral. You did not want to think about your betrothal. You did not want to think of anything at all. You simply wanted to relax, wanted to feel safe and warm next to someone, so now you were sitting with Aemond in the most desolate place you could find, the both of you on Vhagar’s saddle.

“I'm afraid I'll fall off if I let go,” you explained to Aemond, when he asked why you were still holding him.

“But we are not in the air.”

“Vhagar likes to buck and fight—she could kick me off at any moment.”

“Vhagar is very calm right now. And she likes you. She feels at ease around you.”

“I suppose that's true.” You closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of him. “I'm fond of riding her too.”

Despite his questions, Aemond did not protest to your touch. He merely hummed, after which a long silence passed. Larks kept calling out, their songs a beautiful trill in your ears. The day was windy; the trees whispered loudly in the sky. To anyone a distance away, the noise of the forest would surely mask your voices—as long as you kept them low.

“I'm betrothed to someone now,” you said quietly. It was not quite upset, but your voice sounded oddly fragile.

“Hm.” Aemond did not sound bothered; instead, he seemed pensive. “To whom?”

“The Tyrells. The bastard they just legitimised.” You opened your eyes, staring at the rustling trees. The scenery of the Reach would be similar, you found yourself thinking, for it was close by—too close for your liking.

“The Tyrells,” Aemond repeated thoughtfully. “The Hightowers are their bannermen. Otto Hightower wishes to trade you for the guaranteed support of his liege, and at the same time he will ensure that your inheritance will not fall into Rhaenyra's hands. It seems my grandsire has done exactly what you predicted.”

“As I said,” you replied bitterly, “his daughter raised me. I know how your family thinks.”

“As do I.” You felt him shift; he may have been looking back at you. “Do you know anything about Ser Arthur?”

“Nothing other than that he’s fought in the Dornish Marches. He displayed great feats during battle—I heard many tales in the Throne Room during their petition. Ser Criston looked strangely at him the whole time, though.” Your brow furrowed. “I wonder why.”

“They may have served together, or else he may have some kind of reputation within the Marches,” Aemond mused. “I will ask Ser Criston later.”

“Do tell me what he says. I would like to know the character of my future husband.” Your arms tightened around Aemond. The day was not particularly cold, but you found yourself clinging to him. “I need all the knowledge I can of the Tyrells before I leave. Surely Highgarden cannot be worse than the Red Keep, but I want no surprises.”

“You have already resigned yourself to being taken away.” You felt Aemond touch your hand; you nearly jumped before realising he was only adjusting his chains. “I told you that I would handle the matter of your betrothal.”

“What can you do?” you asked miserably. “The Queen has already agreed, and who knows what kind of marriage your grandsire will force me into if I offend the Tyrells by outright rejecting them. I would not put it past the Hand to tie me up and send me away in the middle of the night, at this point.” You pressed your forehead into Aemond’s back, sighing. “Will you take me to Braavos so I may escape the mummery of the Red Keep? If we leave on Vhagar now, we may be there by the morrow.”

Vhagar beneath you rumbled, as if in complaint. “Ah,” you said, “your old lady seems unwilling to carry us. I suppose I'm done for.”

Aemond laid a hand on your wrist, perhaps searching for another chain. You did not push it away. “You need not offend the Tyrells,” he said. “When the time comes, simply play along as needed. You will not be held accountable for whatever may come.”

“Will you be held accountable? The guilt would eat me alive, if you were.”

He hummed. “If I were, it would not affect my standing greatly. You know I would not make such a misstep.”

“I suppose.” You allowed yourself to feel, for just one moment, reassured. Aemond was one of those few players in court who felt both reliable and safe, or at least not openly malicious. Perhaps to others, but not you. It was not unlikely that he could solve this all.

The breeze changed. You realised that your excuses to cling onto him had dwindled. “I suppose we should dismount now,” you said mournfully. “Come—let’s enjoy the woods, as we said we would.”

“I don't feel much like looking at trees today,” Aemond said. “Would you like to fly along the bay instead? The whole length of the shore.”

You lifted your head to give him an incredulous look. “That will take at least an hour in flight.”

“Then I suppose you will need to hold me for an hour. I do hope that won’t be a bother.”

It took you a beat to realise what he'd just offered, but once you did, you squeezed him tightly.

“As long as there is no complaint from Vhagar,” you said. “I know the lady likes her rest.”

Vhagar clicked beneath you, more agreeable now to your request. “She will do what I want,” Aemond reassured you. “Dragons are influenced by the desires of their riders.”

“So you want to nap and lounge all day like an elderly woman?”

You could hear the amusement in his voice when he replied, “Not terribly, though it is an option for us today if you wish.”

How lovely that would be, you thought. If you could lie with Aemond in the grass, shielded from the sun by Vhagar, and spend the afternoon slumbering. To ignore the funeral you needed to plan, the grief you had been procrastinating, the bridegroom you needed to meet.

Unfortunately, Aemond was not such a lout that he would waste the day like that, and you had your own responsibilities. You could not run for long from the death of your parents, from the ramifications of this inheritance mess. It was better to face it all promptly, matching the cold efficiency that the Hightowers operated with. That was how you had survived all these years, after all: matching the Hightowers.

But at the very least, you could allow yourself one more hour of delay.

“Napping would be nice,” you admitted, “but I'd rather spend the time in flight.”

“As you wish, my lady.”

Vhagar’s wings began to beat, ancient but mighty. The trees swayed and rattled from the gust of her flight. The chains around your waist shook with the force of the great beast, but they held steadfast—binding you to Aemond, their hold inescapable.

X. DEATH, UPRIGHT

“Dracarys.”

A brilliant fire roared to life, consuming a boat drifting peacefully by the shore. Emerald flames erupted from the wood, devouring shimmering Qartheen jewels and priceless Myrish silks—all the belongings of your father.

Your father’s dragon had died in his youth. In her absence, it was Wildfyre who was chosen to set the pyre aflame in this sham of a funeral. The fire was the colour of alchemical wildfire, though given your dragon’s middling age of ninety-and-three, they of course burned much hotter. Despite being grown and having lived through both war and death, though, Wildfyre still behaved like a child: screeching and roaring and squawking miserably as the pyre burned, as if crying in your stead.

Your own face was bone-dry. You only stared dully at the pile of burning valuables, which were meant to be a substitute for your father’s body.

Technically, all of the objects in the pyre belonged to the Crown, but in a fit of spite you had publicly petitioned to the Hand to have them burned in the funeral. In a throne room where various nobles and smallfolk spectated—most of whom were already sympathetic to you, after you had to argue for your own inheritance just two days before—Otto Hightower had no choice but to grant your request, lest he look like a monster. You were glad to see all the treasures burning to ash in front of him, all that wealth forever out of his reach.

The Hand and the Queen had not appreciated this insult; neither of them offered their condolences during the ceremony, and likely only came out of obligation. Your closest kin offered no real words of consolation either. Aegon was so grossly uncomfortable during the affair that he could not make eye contact with you; Helaena only gave you a mournful and disconcerting stare, as if she were grieving you instead of your father.

Aemond, though very dear to you, was equally clumsy with handling you in your grief. He stood by your side and asked if you were well, to which you only gave him a long, dead-eyed stare. You had just spent three days without sleep to prepare for your petition during which his grandsire wrung you out; then you spent another two days without sleep to prepare for a funeral at which you thought no one would grieve.

Of course you were not well.

None of Alicent Hightower’s children had ever experienced loss; that much was clear. It was different with your other cousins, however; Luke, Jace, Baela, and Rhaena neatly offered their sincere condolences. I'm so sorry, they all said, before taking your hands and squeezing. I am always here if you need company. Say the word and I will come by.

You absolutely would not take them up on the offer, but you did appreciate it.

Surprisingly, though, you were not entirely alone in your mourning. King Viserys had asked to delay the funeral until he was well enough to attend, and he now stood in the front, watching solemnly. Beside him was Prince Daemon, who for once seemed subdued and reflective. You were not sure what to make of Rhaenyra’s face, which seemed appropriately mournful, but potentially inauthentic. She had actually known your father as a child, though they were not close, and she never involved herself with you when you were a child except for when Jace wanted to play with you.

You supposed it was Prince Daemon and King Viserys who had the greatest right to grief, perhaps even more than you. You had known your father for ten years; they had known him for nearly thirty. Daemon sought you out shortly after the service, speaking in Pentoshi Valyrian.

“Your father was the only person who brought us news of our aunt in Volantis,” he said. “He always saw that she fared well—did he ever tell you that?”

“No,” you replied honestly, and with great surprise. “He never mentioned her.”

“It was how he knew your mother,” Daemon said. “The Lysene pillowhouse that Saera once worked in—your mother was a courtesan there. She introduced them to one another.”

You were stunned by the news. Saera Targaryen had been exiled and King Jaehaerys had forbidden the rest of the family from ever speaking with her again. To think that your father had not only sought her out anyway, but had found your mother through her, was shocking.

“I did not think my father would break his uncle’s decree,” you said.

“Defiance was in your father’s spirit. I do believe you inherited it.”

“Thank you,” you said. You were deeply confused—this was probably the fifth time in your life you'd ever spoken to the Rogue Prince, for he scared you when you were a child, and he himself did not care much for toddlers. You did not think he could be so kind. “Perhaps defiance is in our blood. My father always spoke highly of your exploits, and he respected Princess Saera as well.”

The corner of Daemon’s mouth lifted in something that could not really be called a smile, but was probably meant to be a sign of approval. “Those born of fire and blood have a tendency to be untameable. Your father and I were not just kin—we were kindred. If you wish for the company of like-minded people”—Daemon glanced at the Hightowers and their children—“rather than those who disapprove of us… do seek me out.”

King Viserys, with his missing eye hidden by a patch, offered fewer words, but more heartfelt: “I have always tried to care for you in my cousin’s stead,” he said. “Nothing about that will change in his death.”

You bowed. “Thank you, my King.”

He laid a hand, shaking and emaciated but warm, on your shoulder.

“I regret that I am no longer well enough to spend time with you in your hour of grief, but I know that my children and grandchildren will keep your loneliness at bay.”

He did not mention Queen Alicent, nor did you. “I will be grateful for their company in my mourning,” was all you said.

Truthfully, though, anyone’s company would likely make you scream. You did not feel like coddling anyone as they struggled over what they should say to you after you lost a man that none of them had known. All you wanted to do was sneak back to either your rock by the sea or the dung pit to cry in absolute solitude, but now that Aegon and Aemond knew both of your misery spots, that was not an option.

Your expression was grim as you left the funeral site, and you prayed that no one would disturb you in your self-pity—but to your displeasure, Jace had been thoughtful enough to wait for you.

“I was worried about you,” he said, so gently that you wanted to throw up.

“You need not be,” you replied stiffly. “I did all my grieving for my father while I was working through those ledgers.”

Jacaerys had helped you sort through the books when you were crying too hard to read clearly, so you knew he was being genuine when he replied, “I know. But…”

“But?”

“It's just,” he started, and you could hear the hesitation in his voice, “is there to be a service for your mother?”

You stared dumbly. He sounded earnest when he explained, “I would like to attend, if there is one planned.”

“No,” you replied, and your voice sounded oddly strangled, and your throat hurt terribly. “No, there is not one planned. No one asked me to make arrangements for one, so I did not.”

“Would you rather that there wasn't one?”

“I had not thought about it—I did not think there was anyone who would like to come,” you admitted, which made you feel both horrible and sorry for yourself, and suddenly you were turning around to wipe away at your eyes. Oh, how you longed to be in the dung pit right now.

“Why would you even want to come?” you asked, sniffling. “You did not know her.”

“I would want to come for you,” Jacaerys said simply, and the sob that came out of you was so ugly that you felt embarrassed. Not once did you cry like this while reading through all the Iron Bank ledgers, but for some reason, the thought of your mother hurt your heart so much that you did not know how else to release the pain but with the most guttural sobs possible.

You felt a hand on your shoulder. You noticed then that you had crouched down to cry into your knees, and Jace had lowered himself to sit with you.

“When Ser Harwin died,” he said quietly, “Luke and I were not allowed to attend his funeral.”

“Oh,” you said, lip wobbling. You did not know where he was going with this.

“We still wanted to say goodbye, though, so instead we went to the Kingswood and buried the training swords he gave us when we were little. We did it alone.”

“O-oh.” More tears welled up as you realised what he was about to ask.

“I know you have not been allowed a proper funeral for your mother—but is there anything you would want to do, to say goodbye?”

You could not manage a yes, so you instead let out a whimpering sob.

“Meet me at the hour of the wolf tonight, at the bottom floor of the Kitchen Keep,” you said once you were coherent again, and Jacaerys nodded.

XI. DEATH, REVERSED

After Prince Velarion cast your mother out of the Red Keep, the septas, in their unending grace, offered you a kind of cruel consolation: Your mother was always going to be cast out anyway, they told you. She was merely a whore, seducing your father with temptation rather than marrying him out of love. He was always going to free himself from her spell and find the Seven again. This was inevitable.

They also told you, You were not a child born of love. You were born of sin and temptation. Your mother was bound to leave you as well, for her feelings for you were disingenuous; how can a whore love an accident of her sins? But now—her influence is gone, and you can find the love of the Seven instead.

And when Alicent Hightower said, Stop crying, sweetling, the septas are speaking the truth—this is all for the better, you realised that you would always hate her and her Faith.

Maybe you could have found the Seven if it were not for her words, but she ruined her gods for you with that one sentence. You burned your copy of the Seven-Pointed Star; you kicked and screamed as the septas dragged you to the High Septon’s service; you called Alicent a monster when she struck you for your misbehaviour. So horrific was her treatment of you that even Aegon—who had often been on the receiving end of her strikes himself—felt sorry for you.

Not that he actually helped you, of course. Only Aemond spent any time with you though it all, sitting next to you in the dragon pit as you cried.

You did not believe any of it, of course. You were not a child born of sin, for your mother and father loved each other. Your father did so much for your mother—told her he loved her in her mother tongue, grew persimmon trees in the courtyard to keep her homesickness at bay, lit nightfires for her so she could pray to R’hllor. Your father loved her so much that he took her to Lys and decided to stay, even if it meant leaving you.

There was no way he didn't love her. There was no way they didn't love you.

There was no way, and this was what you told yourself every time you heard those whispers: She merely seduced him. She merely used him. He did not truly love her. How could a prince truly love a whore?

And her daughter—that girl is a child of sin. How could they have loved her?

You had become so skilled at ignoring it all, and nearly delighted in being irreverent of it. But despite all of your efforts to laugh at the gossipmongers and the septas, several years of whispers now echoed in your ear as you made your way to the Kitchen Keep. They nicked at your heart, and you wished your mother and father were here to dispel them. But your father was a pile of bones somewhere on Bloodstone, and your mother was lost to the sea.

Your heart was so heavy with these thoughts that you did not say anything to Jace and Luke when they met you at the Keep. You merely dumped two piles of firewood and kindling in their arms and beckoned them to follow you. You led them up a long flight of stairs, carrying a bundle of beautiful silks, until you had all reached the top of some decrepit tower.

The winds were calm tonight, a cool breeze rather than a violent gust. It made it easier to light up the old fire pit—you struggled only a little before you remembered how.

“My mother and father used to come here at night,” you finally explained, your voice tired. “It is a practice at Red Temples in Essos to burn nightfires like this. They are meant to allow R’hllor to protect us from the dark. But there are no such temples in King’s Landing, so my father would do this instead to comfort my mother.”

Jacaerys and Lucerys both listened quietly as they sat next to you, faces lit up by the crackling heat. Luke was not very close with you—you had always felt too awkward befriending him, after the incident with Aemond’s eye—but he had wanted to come to help you honour your mother, so sorry he was for your grief.

He seemed genuinely interested when he asked, “Does it bring you comfort too?”

“It reminds me of my mother,” you said, and the two brothers nodded in understanding.

“And those silks you're carrying?” Jace asked.

“Things of my mother’s that we found in my father’s room.” You looked at them balefully as you took a piece out of the bundle, revealing a golden scarf with Lysene embroidery. “I think—I think I should burn them. I don't have anything else of hers.”

The two of them nodded. You fed the silk to the nightfire, watched as it ate through the gold thread. Your heart clenched as it burned to ash; you had so many times imagined that your mother was wearing this scarf as she walked by the harbours of Lys, holding your father’s hand.

“I always thought,” you said quietly, “that my father took my mother to Lys and loved her too much to come back.”

The both of them stayed silent. Waited.

“But”—your brow twinged—“I do not know what to think anymore. People always said my mother was a whore, you know? That my father married her out of pure lust and would eventually leave her. I always thought they were wrong, because he stayed in Lys and gave up his position here, all because he loved her too much to leave her. But now I don't know what to think.”

You did not know if he truly loved her. If the sword and the silks and even you were really evidence of his love, and not simply evidence that he was doting on his pretty concubine. If the ceremony in the Great Sept of Baelor was truly proof of their devotion, or if it was the impulsive decision of an infatuated man. For your father was supposed to be in Lys, loving your mother too much to return, spending the rest of his days with her in the Essosi sun—but instead he was a pile of bones, and she was lost forever.

You felt a familiar wetness on your face, a burn in your eyes that had nothing to do with smoke.

“But if he had stayed,” Luke asked quietly, hesitantly, “doesn't that mean he would have abandoned you?”

“That would have been fine,” you replied truthfully. “And I thought—I thought they'd visit someday, and I would get to see them again then. At the very least they'd love me enough for that.”

At the very least, you would for one last time be held by people who loved you.

You bit your trembling lip. Now that you'd said it all out loud, you were uncertain if you made sense. “Is it strange that I'm questioning it all now? That for nearly twenty years I believed steadfastly in their love, but now that they are gone, I do not know what to think?”

Neither of them said anything. Luke was looking down; Jace was staring into the flames.

“I wish I could ask them,” you whispered, and this seemed to strike Jace.

“I do not think it strange to question it.” Jacaerys did not look at you, but you knew he was not lying. “I have thought about it many times—about the relationship between my mother and Ser Harwin. I always thought they loved each other and that they loved us, when I was little—but now I'm not so sure. And I cannot ask him, no matter how much I wish for it.”

You gave him a long look, and you were strangely hopeful—as if the knowledge that Ser Harwin loved the three of them would somehow mean that your father loved you and your mother too.

“I do not think,” Jacaerys finally confessed, “that my mother loved Ser Harwin.”

Your heart was wrenched with pain.

“Oh,” you said quietly. “Why?”

“She did not cry after he died.” Jace sounded odd, his voice terse but brittle. “She did not cry and she told us that we shouldn't cry either. Like he meant nothing to us. I think now that he was a distraction for her, or a plaything. If the court whispers are true, then it is not the first time she would have done such a thing.”

“That can't be true,” you protested, perhaps too desperately. Rhaenyra had to have loved him. She risked her station just to bear his children—just like how your father lost his to have you.

But Jace seemed disconsolate. “Why not?” He gave you a wry look. “Bastards are supposed to be born of lies and temptation, not love—at least according to the Faith. If we are indeed the bastards of Ser Harwin and my mother, then we are proof that lies and temptation are all that existed between them.”

You thought of all the septas and their prayers and Alicent Hightower screaming at you to behave. Bastards are not so different from the daughters of whores, you mused. They see us all as products of sin.

“Fuck the Faith,” you hissed, and Jace seemed startled, as if not expecting the edge to your voice, but you did not falter. “I do not believe a person as kind as you could have been born of anything other than love.”

Jace’s eyes widened a little, but then his face settled into a kind of smile. Small, but gentle nevertheless.

“Then I do not think that you could have been born of anything else either.”

The corner of your mouth lifted. You turned back to the fire, eyes still hot, but a little less watery. Your fingers gripped the red-and-gold silk remaining in your hands—your mother’s wedding veil—and you meant to feed it to the nightfire, but you did not. You did not want to let it go.

You did not want to let her go.

“I’ve always thought that,” you confessed, “my mother loved me enough to someday come back to King’s Landing. She promised me, you know. She said she would.”

Jace gave you a soft look. “I'm sure she meant it.”

You wiped your eyes again. “Why do you think so?”

“Just a feeling.” He went quiet for a little, hesitating. But eventually he shared, “Ser Harwin said he would come back someday. He died, of course, but”—Jace looked down—“I believe he was telling the truth. He loved us, I think.”

You nodded, and the squeeze around your heart finally eased. It was entirely illogical, but you somehow knew this was true: Ser Harwin loved his children; that meant that your parents must have loved you too. It only made sense. Your father had wanted to come back for you after one hundred days. Your mother wanted to return after your grandsire died. She loved you so much that she would cross the seas for you again.

She must have crossed the seas again.

Your fingers gripped the veil even harder. Your eyes felt heavy, five days without proper sleep wearing them down. You fought to keep them open.

“You're tired,” Jace said. “You should go back to your room and rest.”

“No,” you said, but your eyelids were fluttering shut anyway, and you felt yourself start to sway. “No—the fire is supposed to burn all night. Until the dawn breaks and the light of R’hllor returns to us.”

“Will that bring you comfort, if it burns until daybreak?” he asked. You began to lie down—curling up on the stone floor.

You answered with your eyes closed: “It will remind me of my mother.”

You entered a strange dream after that, or perhaps a memory. You were sitting around the nightfire with your parents, a child once more. You were shivering and crying, for the wind was cold, and the night was dark and full of terrors. But your father had you lie down, your head in his lap, and he covered you with his cloak as your mother ran her fingers through your hair, and they held you. They loved you. You knew they loved you, and they loved each other too. Your father went to Lys and loved your mother so much that he never came back. Your mother loved you so much that she crossed the Narrow Sea once more just to see you.

And you would, for one last time, be held by someone who loved you.

(When you woke up in your bed the next morning, you were covered by a cloak that smelled of nightfire and dreams.)

END PART III

notes: FUN FACT when i was a teenager i was extremely obsessed over sansan and the cloak = marriage metaphor had a formative influence on me and that has definitely come thru in this fic lol. anyway - thank you for reading!!! i would greatly appreciate it if you reblogged & drop a line if you enjoyed this chapter! <3

[wild-rise]

Sunshine

Daryl Dixon x F!Reader Smut MDNI 18+

Summary: After a stressful day and years of animosity between you and Daryl the dynamics of your power struggle finally gets resolved. Safe to say you're finally put in your place.

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, Reader is a brat, Soft!Dom Daryl, Kinda mean Daryl, Teasing, Oral (M!receiving) Face F!cking, Binding (Readers wrists), Dirty Talk, Pervy Daryl, Thigh Riding, Just the t!p, P in V penetration, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it folks), creampie. I think that's it...

“How ‘bout runnin’ that by me one more time sunshine?” Daryl gruffs out cocking his head to you making sure he wasn’t going crazy because there’s no way in hell you just said what he thinks you did.

“Your hearing going out now Dixon?” Just before you reach the door of his room you turn to face him again, invading his space, craning your head up to make sure the message gets through his thick skull this time.

 “Fuck. You. You redneck piece of shit.” The words cutting like knives as they roll off your tongue. Daryl holds his composure as he looks down at you and lets out an exasperated sigh.

“If you want to so bad all ya have to do is ask nicely.” That same smirk dancing on his lips. He made every nerve in your body boil till you only saw red. Daryl knew how to push every single button to set you off and get under your skin.

Without warning Daryl’s face is hit with your saliva “Fucking pig.” You’re seething at this point and now any hint of playfulness in Daryl’s features is gone. You turn on your heels to leave when suddenly his large hand wraps around your arm pulling you back to his hard chest.

“You’re a goddamn bitch ya know that?” Daryl practically growls the words at you as he wipes the spit off his face with the back of his hand.

“No. You’re just an inconsiderate asshat that’s just looking out for himself like always.” The venom of your tone doesn’t go unnoticed by Daryl as he holds you close noticing the heat radiating off your skin and your scent invading his senses.

“I’m the only reason you’re alive right now so if you know what’s good for you, I suggest you drop it, Sunshine.” That stupid nickname he gave you back on the farm had its way of making a shit situation even shittier and Daryl knew, that’s why he made sure to draw out each syllable.

There can never be a civil interaction between the two of you. You’ve been together for so long, but the animosity never faded. Rick even tried locking you both in a cell together at the prison but after three hours of arguing he let both of you out and go separate ways. No one bothered to intervene and after that your relationship simply stayed stagnant.  

Right now, as much as it pained you he was right. The only reason you’re standing here is because he followed you on your hunt which turned sour when your kill was taken by walkers. The loss made you unhinged, being the final straw to break your back after all the tragedy your community suffered after the whispers. You went on dropping body after body till you were starting to get outnumbered, but your stubbornness never let up. Daryl noticing your struggle and intervened before you could get hurt but to his surprise you turned your rage towards him before storming off back to Alexandira.

Bringing you back here telling off Daryl for being… helpful? Honestly the stress of everything you’ve endured and the loss the community has suffered is getting to you and you need a release, and Daryl is the only one who can take it.

Taking a deep breath as you hold eye contact with him you’re finally registering just how close the two of you are. His breath fanning over your face, hand still holding tightly to your arm and that’s when the intrusive ideas locked away in the deepest parts of your mind finally come to light. “And what exactly is best for me Daryl? Hm? Please do tell.” Your voice is barely above a whisper now.

 “Is that you askin nicely?” he says watching the shift in your demeanor and matching your tone.

“Don’t push it Dixon.” The sternness in your voice lacking conviction and Daryl decided then what he was going to do with you.

He brings his other hand up to your face cupping your check and leaning down just about to kiss you when “Ask nicely. Sunshine.” He says right on your lips. How could he be even more frustrating, especially at a time like this. “Tell me what’s best for me. Please.” Sarcasm dripping on your every word. The fire in you is impossible to extinguish and honestly, it’s what Daryl loves about you so much and he’d die before he ever saw it put out but right now it needs to desperately be controlled.

“How bout ya let me show you.” And as quickly as the words fall from his mouth, he’s pressing his lips to yours. His actions are filled with hunger and desire as a mixture of saliva form between you. Your hands come up to find purchase on his broad shoulders as he deepens the kiss exploring every inch of your mouth. “Get on your knees. Now” the words going straight to your cunt but the brat in you can’t help but be defiant. “Ask nicely.” You mock him and the hand cupping your cheek travels to the back of your head grasping your hair tightly and dragging you down to your knees. “You just don’t know when to fuckin quit do ya? That shit stops now you understand?” The tenderness on your scalp stings from his grip but you welcome the sensation as a soft whimper leaves you confirming Daryl’s suspicion.

You wanted someone to put you in your place and take control. You didn’t want to have to think just do what you’re told and feel something other than the suffering you’ve endured.

“That so hard? Now, can you get my belt off or do ya need help with that too?” Realizing your predicament, you reach your hands up to undo his belt and pull down his zipper. Daryl releases his hand from your hair before pulling his belt off through the loops of his pants. “Hands behind your back.” Doing exactly what he says Daryl comes behind you tying your hands behind your back with his belt. Anticipation floods your body as Daryl stands back in front of you pulling his cock out of the confines of his jeans. The angry red tip directly in your face leaking precum and begging for a release. He was bigger than you imagined and the thought of him ramming your throat made your panties even more wet than before.

“Open up sunshine.” Lolling your tongue out Daryl slowly pushes his cock past your lips a little at a time allowing you to get comfortable with the position. Once you get a steady rhythm of sucking and licking his length Daryl’s hands return to your hair pulling you off him.

“Should’ve known cock would shut you up.” Daryl groans as he slides back into the warmness of your mouth. The sounds he made were almost heavenly enough to distract you from the pain in the back of your throat... almost. Your pace is quickly abandoned as Daryl starts bucking his hips in your face stuffing your throat full of his cock. Tears stream down your cheeks and the pressure from his belt straining on your wrists start to make your head dizzy and you can hardly breathe. “Fucking hell sunshine your takin me so well.” Daryl stops holding your head at the base of his dick till you start squirming from the lack of oxygen and he pulls you off completely. Taking a gasp of air trying to regain composure, you whine when he hoists you back up onto your feet.

“You gonna stop being a bitch or should I just let you finish sucking my dick and leave you here to take care of yourself?” He asks in such a kind way, but his actions moments ago were anything but. “I’ll stop. Promise, please Daryl.” You cry at him just needing something more as the desire grew within you. “Good girl. See I knew you had it in you.” He takes his belt off your wrists and has the rest of your garments following suit. Daryl guides you to lie on his bed and the vulnerable feeling of being completely exposed while he’s still fully dressed has your cheeks burning red. Daryl bends down to pick up your soaked panties, bring them to his face and takes a deep breath before shoving them in his back pocket. “Constellation prize.” He winks at you as you moan desperate for him to do anything to you.

“Are you going to actually touch me or just keep being a perv?” You groan at him as he pulls off his clothes joining you on his bed. “Just takin my time, don’t be so impatient.” You want to cry from the pressure building up at your cunt. Daryl could tell how needy you were from how much you’ve been pressing your thighs together chasing any type of satisfaction. Caging you between his forearms he slots a leg between yours adding pressure to your long awaiting cunt. Your arousal is prominent enough to leave remanence behind on his leg, but he doesn’t move. “Go on, hump my leg like the bitch you are.” His words hushed into your ear make the tears come back to your eyes. He was being so mean, and it was turning you on so much. With a strangled moan you started dragging your hips up and down, rubbing against his leg as he marked up and down your neck and chest leaving a path of hickeys and bruises. Your hips started bucking faster as you felt that familiar sensation of your approaching orgasm but just as you were about to let go Daryl pulls his thigh away from you.

“Daryl please I’m s-so ssorry I’ll be nice I’ll do whatever you want just plea-please make me cum.” You were a sight to behold, so worked up and desperate just for him and oh how he loved it. “Since you asked so nicely.” He leans down to give you a kiss but this time it was different. This time it lacked primal urgency from before, it was tender and attentive.

Now Daryl had your legs on either side of him as he lined his cock up with your dripping, aching pussy. He slowly pushed just the tip and watched your greedy cunt try to suck him in some more and your sobbing persisted. He leaned down peppering kisses along your jaw, shushing you trying to calm you down. “Next time I won’t be so harsh on ya if you use your manners, Sunshine.” Is all he whispers in your ear before sitting back up and ramming his entire length in you bottoming out.

Your cries and moans are so loud he’s pretty sure someone’s going to come down thinking you’re in danger, but he could care less because the sounds you’re making right now are music to his ears. The way he’s pressing your legs apart sends a burn through your thighs and your breasts are bouncing at the rhythm of his thrusts. “Doing so fuckin good for me f-fuck this pussy’s just suckin me in S-Sunshine.” His tough guy act falters as he speeds up his pace. Daryl quickly puts your legs onto his shoulders allowing him to hit that one spot deep in your body that has you seeing stars.

“Oh, fuck Daryl yes, yes right there oh my god please d-don’t stop.”  You cry out begging him for your release. "Wasn't plannin' on it. Fuck it's like this pussy was made for me." Daryl keeps up the same pace and brings a hand down rubbing tight circles on your clit. The added stimulation is enough to send you over the edge moaning Daryl’s name over and over again. The spasming of your cunt has him losing the fight of holding off his orgasm as he finishes deep inside you. “Fucking take it. F-fuck take it all.” He says while he delivers the final thrusts riding out both of your highs.

    Daryl rolls over, bringing you into his chest and caresses your hair while you both try to catch your breath. “What do you say? Hm?”

You look up at him through your lashes and taking in his disheveled appearance you realize this is a sight you could easily get used too.  “Thank you. Daryl.” Your voice is hoarse from the amount of screaming and moaning he pulled from you which sparked pride to flood through his chest.

“You are very welcome, Sunshine.” He feels content finally taming your fire as he traces patterns on your back while you slowly drift off to sleep.

[arcanecor3]

Sister parallels.

Okay so, this is me trying my best to explain my view of the parallel between these 2 scenes

Firstly, a little thing to keep in mind is that in this parallel, s2 Cait represents s1 Vi and s2 Vi represents Powder 

A big fight just happened, s1’s was the Vander rescue mission and s2’s was find Jinx, and both ended up going wrong because of someone who was supposed to help (Powder; s2Vi). After everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we see Vi screaming and she is angry (i’ll come back to that later), and then Powder shows up with the “my monkey bomb finally worked” line we all know, and on s2 we have Caitlyn being the angry one because Vi didn’t let her shoot.

a little parallel with the lines:

“you did this?”-s1vi to powder

“you stopped me”-s2cait to vi

“i was saving you”-powder to s1vi

“that was a kid! what if you missed?”- s2vi to cait

Now, both s1 Vi and s2 Cait are blinded by anger and grief, so even tho the other person (Powder; s2vi) is explaining themselves (in Powder’s case it wasn’t the greatest explanation, but she does states that it was an accident, and s2 Vi was being rational), they don’t really listen because of all the anger.

then, Vi slaps powder, making her fall, and that’s when Powder desperately asks: “why did you leave me?” to which Vi answers: “because you’re a jinx! do you hear me? mylo was right". Now on s2, basically the same thing happens, just in a different order: s2 Cait says: “I keep telling myself that you’re different. but you’re not. it’s her (Jinx’s) blood that runs in your veins”, then Vi asks her: “then why are you the one acting like her?” and Caitlyn hits vi, knocking her to the ground. AND IN S2 WE EVEN GET A SHOT OF ANGRY CAITLYN LOOKING AT VI CRYING, JUST LIKE S1 VI LOOKED ANGRY AT POWDER CRYING. LIKE HOW SICK AND TWISTED IS THAT.

Then both s1 Vi and s2 Cait walk away, leaving the other one crying alone on the floor. 

The thing is that crying is the exactly what we expect from Powder, since that’s how she was during the entire scene, because that’s how her character is. but not Vi. Because during the entire of the s2 scene vi wasn’t actually crying, in fact, Vi barely cries in the whole show, the only time we see her actually sobbing is during the bridge scene from s1e1, when she saw her dead parents. And since then, she has trained and fought to become a person who can protect those she loves. And even when everything goes down at the s1 warehouse, we only get to see her a glimpse of her crying before she tried to go back to powder, but she’s mainly angry, that’s the way Vi usually reacts to these situations. She gets angry. And she tries to do everything in her power to go after who hurt her/the people she loves.

But this s2 scene is different. She simply has nowhere to go. Once again, she lost everything. Her family? dead. you might argue there’s Jinx but as Vi herself said: “my sister is gone”. the last person she had was Caitlyn, and she left, and Vi now feels like she ruined everything again, because that’s how she is, she burdens herself with the guilt and blames herself. So when you see Vi just, on her knees, crying, it’s just so devastating when you think that she is like that because her life is essentially over. All there’s left to her is cry. Just like Powder in the end of s1e3, s2e3 Vi lost everyone.

But that’s when the parallel ends, because it’s when Powder was in that desperate state that silco came, and even though his character divides opinions, you can’t deny that he took care of and loved Powder (who became Jinx).

Vi doesn’t have anyone to come and save her, to wipe away her tears like she had done so many times before for Caitlyn and before that for Powder. She is alone.

thank you to whoever read this entire thing for contributing to my arcane obsession, and shoutout to my amazing friend who helped me put this together @crzytoogetherr 🥰🥰

[lostintransist]

Fallen Angel | Something Stupid

Simon is lounging at the table while you boil some water. You stared at the kettle as you waited. The electric one you had wasn't working, you didn't have the funds yet to replace it and didn't dare mention it to Simon. The last time you mentioned that you needed something he added you to his credit card. That had been a whole thing.

Flicking through the mail you found a plain envelope with your name on it. Bit odd, but might as well check what bill collecter this was from. Sliding the guts from it you are surprised when one side of the folded paper dips with weight.

Concerned now, you flatten it against the counter. Glued to the middle right of the paper is a black credit card with your name on it. Outright worried is now your level of concern.

The letter is generic, here is your card, here is how to activate it, signed from the issuing company.

Thinking this must be some elaborate scam you grab your phone and search for the customer service line of the company. Waiting on the line and dodging the automated system you finally reach a person.

"Thank you for calling *Credit Card Company*. How can I help you today?" The professional voice on the other end chirps at you.

"Hi, so I have a bit of a weird situation that I am hoping you can help me with." You pause for a breath before continuing. "I recieved a card in the mail from your company but I don't have an account with you and I am a little worried that this might be a scamming attempt. A elborate one, but still."

"Oh, that does sound quite odd. Can you give me the number that appears on the card? We will see what I can find," the gentle concern layed over customer service helps.

"Yeah," you provide the number and wait.

A moment of silence is broken by the agent.

"I'm still here, I am just double-checking what I am seeing so I give you all the correct information."

"That's fine, I won't think the call dropped if there is silence." You had a phone job once. Heaven forbid you not be filling the silence on the line or a customer would lose their minds.

"Okay, so it appears that you have been added by a cardholder with us. A Simon Riley has added you and initiated the card being sent to the address we have on file. Is there anything else I can help with today?"

"I...no..I guess that is everything I needed. Thank you for your help," you stare at the counter as you try and process what you learned.

Staring at the spotted formica of the counter you lean forward on your hands. The shock had started to wear off, you couldn't decide if what you were feeling was nausea or rage. Why the hell did he add you to his credit card? You barely knew each other!

Yes, you lived together but the man was gone 80% of the time and you hardly spoke the other 20. The only thing you could think is that you happened to mention needing deodorant and that having to wait because of when payday occured.

Calling him seemed the best option. You knew he was still in the country. Said he would be home in two days and had to finish up some overnight training at a nearby base.

Your call reaches voicemail after two rings. Calling again it hits voicemail immediately.

"Fucker you cannot avoid talking to me about this," you growl at your phone. Your case bites into your fingers where you grip it tight. "Fine, let's try John."

John picks up on the third ring.

"Price."

His work voice makes you smile.

"Hi John, is Simon around by chance?" You ask sweetly.

He must turn the phone to his shoulder as he shouts for Simon by his call sign.

"Phone's for you."

A shift in the silence tells you Simon has put the phone to his ear.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" You snap into the phone.

"'bout what?"

"The credit card?" You can't prevent yourself from slashing your hand through the air even though he can't see you.

"It's easier."

These short responses are making you madder.

"Simon Riley who does this make things easier for?!"

"Me."

"Explain that," you growl into the phone. You start to pace the length of the kitchen.

"Keep the food stocked and yourself cared for. Price, here is your phone."

Agast you can't keep your mouth from dropping open.

"What's that about?" Price's voice draws you back from the edge of madness.

"That is about Simon adding me to his credit card without talking to me about it and expecting me to use his money responsibly and keep food in the house. If he doesn't show up to his next assignment it's because I've killed him, John. That man takes too many liberties with my life and I don't know how to make him stop."

"Well, first off don't threaten him. I can almost guarantee he likes it," John muttered into the phone.

"That is not helpful John," you snap.

"Sorry, don't know how to be helpful in this kind of situation. Call me if there are more issues though." He ended the call without a goodbye.

When you stretched your jaw to work some of the tension out of it the joint popped.

The whistle of the kettle drew your attention from your memories. Filling one cup had you turning the green kettle nearly vertical and still not having enough water to finish filling the large mug.

Without thinking about why it would be a bad idea you pull the top off to refill it. A puff of boiling steam rushes up and over both of your hands. You drop the kettle to the stove with a hiss.

"Well, that was stupid," Simon comments.

Rolling your eyes you stick your hands under cool running water. "Don't you ever do something stupid without thinking about it?"

His head appears before you, lips pressed to yours. His eyes are soft as he pulls back.

"Yes."

You glare at him.

"I'm not going to take offense that you think kissing me is stupid. Nope, not taking offense at that."

You slam the water off and aggressively dry your hands, tossing the towel on the counter instead of neatly returning it to its home.

A few hours of avoiding him later you overhear a conversation on speakerphone from the living room.

"Simon you are the stupidest smart man I've ever met. And that's saying something, we both know Soap," John chastises Simon.

Simon chuckled dryly, "Still don't understand how he can do the math to blow an oil rig sky high but can't figure out a budget."

John chuckles in reply.

"Don't know how to explain to her that it was the kissing that was stupid, not the kissing her," Simon says quietly.

"Can't help you there, if she's mad at you she is more likely to agree to go on a date with me," John points out sounding smug.

Is that what they have been doing asking you on dates, trying to win? You can't decide if you should be offended or flattered.

"I could take her on a date if I wanted but I like spending time with her here."

"I like spending time with her too, but I can also get a cool activity out of it at the same time," John counters.

Okay so maybe they weren't all trying to date you, just spend time with you and only have the language to call it a date. Hmm. Looks like you will be hearing from John soon then about a date.

Fallen Angel Masterlist | Masterlist

[archiveikemen]

"Dark If" Story Event: Chapter 1

Ellis Twilight

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Victor: Miss Kate. The ability to create the ultimate happy ending lies in your hands. — Now, off into the twisted fairytale world you go. 

…

When I woke up, I found myself in a room inside a lavish castle. 

(Uhh… right, I’m the “princess” of this country.)

(... Huh? Why do I have memories of that?) 

Memories of being raised as the princess of this kingdom slowly came back to me. 

(It feels as though I have two sets of memories. One from living in this world, and one from another world.) 

Yet, strangely, both felt like they were indeed “mine”. 

King: … Are you awake, Kate?

Kate: Good morning, Father. 

After a knock, my father entered the room looking concerned. 

King: With only a few months left until that wicked fairy’s prophecy is set to come true… I can’t be at peace without personally ascertaining your safety every morning. 

I was born as the princess of this country and spent my life living a sheltered life within the castle’s walls.

The reason for that was— a curse. 

The fairy who placed the curse on me said, “in 10 years time, the curse will take effect when she pricks her finger on the spindle of a spinning wheel”. 

— Without any explanation, he returned to his castle hidden deep in the mountains. 

In response, my parents gathered every last spinning wheel in the country and destroyed them. They relocated those working in the textile industry to state-run factories, and I wasn't allowed anywhere near them. 

Kate: If the curse takes effect, I’ll fall into a deep slumber for 100 years… right?

I muttered based on my memories, and my father nodded with tears welling up in his eyes once more. 

(A cursed spinning wheel… the world I strayed into must be the story of “The Thorn Princess¹”.)

¹ “The Thorn Princess” is also commonly known as “Sleeping Beauty”. 

(If I go along with the original plot, it’d probably be better to fall into a deep sleep because of the curse, but…)

The man who introduced himself as Victor said that there was “something missing” in this twisted fairytale world.

If I fall asleep before I find it— I won’t be able to look for it for the next 100 years.

(First things first, I need to break this curse to give myself more time to find it!)

Kate: I’m going to ask that fairy to break the curse. 

King: W-what!? Absolutely not!! 

Kate: You can assign a few guards to escort me. 

King: Even the royal guards fear him! I’ve sent people to assassinate him several times, and all of them returned in a dreadful state…! 

Kate: Then I’ll go alone. Don’t worry, I can sniff out dangerous places from my experience as a mail carrier. 

King: Mail carrier? H-hey, hold on—! 

…

(While I did say I’d go alone… it’s still better to be as well-prepared as possible.)

After dodging my panicking father and the royal guards, I made my way to a mercenary recruitment place in the castle town. 

Kate: I’d like to hire a bodyguard for my journey… 

Since there was a real chance of encountering wild beasts or bandits on my way to the fairy’s castle, I decided to use part of my allowance I had been secretly saving and hire someone to protect me. 

However—

Long-Faced Mercenary: Go to the fairy’s castle!? You’d need more than one life to make it there alive! 

One-Eyed Mercenary: No way, not doing it! I’ll never go anywhere near that terrifying guy ever again! 

— The last person I spoke to fainted the moment the word “fairy” left my mouth, his eyes rolling back in fear. 

(It’s just as Father said, the fairy is greatly feared…)

(Looks like it can’t be helped… I’ll just go alone.)

???: Is it true that you want to go to the fairy’s castle? 

???: If that’s what you wish for… I’ll be your bodyguard. 

I looked up when I heard the voice making the timely offer and saw a young man standing there. 

Receptionist: You’re in luck, miss. That guy’s a skilled assassin. 

Receptionist: Once he’s targeted someone, he latches onto them like thorny vines, that's why he’s called “Ellis the Briar”. 

The receptionist, a young man with mint-coloured eyes, politely introduced him. 

The fee he quoted in a low voice was an amount I could afford with my savings. 

Ellis the Briar: I only take on jobs from here every now and then, so I didn't know I had a nickname. 

Kate: Umm, mister… Ellis the Briar?

Ellis the Briar: Just “Ellis” will do. 

After being rejected by many people, Ellis’ offer to be my bodyguard made him look like a knight in shining armour. 

Kate: Thank you so much for accepting my request. 

Kate: But… are you not afraid of the fairy, Ellis?

Unlike the other mercenaries who fled at the mention of the fairy, this relaxed young man seemed unfazed. 

I was a little worried that he might not understand the weight of the situation he volunteered to be involved in. 

Ellis: I’ve been burned, frozen, stabbed, and slashed countless times by that fairy.

Ellis: If there’s anyone here who knows exactly how dangerous he is, that’d be me. 

Kate: What!? You were burnt— are you alright?

Ellis: Yeah. I can't die, and I’m not afraid, so I’m okay. 

(In a strange world where even fairies exist, not dying might be possible too… I guess?) 

Ellis: If the journey will lead to your happiness, I’ll go with you.

Kate: A-alright. I’ll be counting on you, Ellis! 

Ellis: Fufu… you don’t need to be formal with me.

Ellis: You can relax and speak casually. We’re friends, after all.

(Friends!? Since when…?)

I was a little confused, but the young man’s smile carried not a single hint of malice. 

(He’s probably just the kind of person to want to close up the distance between himself and others quickly…) 

Kate: Okay… got it. 

…

— And so, I embarked on my journey with Ellis, who had a mysterious presence. 

There were two paths leading to the fairy’s ancient castle.

One was a horrible half-day route, while the other was a three-day walk on flat ground. 

Ellis suggested the easier route, taking into consideration my limited stamina as someone who lived a sheltered life. 

— On the second night. 

Our journey was progressing smoothly, but I found myself having trouble sleeping. 

Ellis: Can’t sleep?

Kate: Yeah… I know I should rest, especially since we’ll arrive at the castle tomorrow. But…

Ellis: Kate, can you come over here? 

Kate: …?

I had come to trust Ellis after all the countless times he had helped me during this short journey, and so I unhesitatingly moved closer. 

Suddenly, he pulled me by my arm and I fell on top of him. 

Ellis: It’s hard to fall asleep on the hard ground, isn't it? You can rest on me instead. 

Kate: B-but, then you wouldn't be able to sleep with me weighing down on you… 

Ellis: You’re light as a feather, so it’s okay. Go on, you can sleep. 

I tried moving away, but Ellis held me close and wouldn't let go. 

Kate: You’re being so kind to me because I hired you… 

Ellis: Am I? Maybe I’m being this kind only because it's you, Kate. 

Kate: …

Thump. Thump. My heart was pounding loudly, but…

As I leaned my head against Ellis’ chest, I realised that I didn’t hear his heart pounding. 

(... Am I the only one who feels this way?) 

A strange unease crept up to me, but I started feeling drowsy as Ellis gently rubbed my back in a soothing manner.

Ellis: … Why do you want to meet the fairy? 

Kate: I want him… to break my curse…

Ellis: I see… 

Hearing Ellis’ tender voice, my eyelids slowly grew heavy. 

(Ellis took care of everything for me throughout this journey…) 

(I must give him a big reward and properly thank him once this is over…)

(Oh. But… I feel lonely thinking we’ll be parting ways.)  

While such thoughts crossed my mind, making me doze off… I drifted off to sleep on Ellis.

And because I was asleep, I didn’t hear the words Ellis spoke as he watched me. 

Ellis: So you want the fairy to break the curse…

Ellis: That means your feelings haven't changed since “back then”. … I’m so glad. 

Even as Ellis slowly wrapped his hand around my neck, I didn't wake. 

Ellis: … I want to kill you as soon as possible. 

…

I was able to get a good night’s rest thanks to Ellis, and we finally arrived in front of the fairy’s castle. 

However, the path leading up to its doors was overgrown with briar, as though rejecting all visitors coming from the outside. 

Ellis: We can’t pass here, let’s go around. 

Kate: Yeah… oh, can you wait for a quick moment? 

Ellis: What’s the matter? 

Kate: There’s a little bird trapped in the briar and can’t get out… 

I crouched down next to the briar and while being careful not to get pricked, created an opening for the little bird. 

It then quickly escaped and flew away. 

Kate: Had it stayed trapped in there, it might've died. I’m glad I could save it…

Ellis: … Indeed. 

Ellis: Giving even a little bird the choice of where and when it wants to die must make it feel happier, doesn't it? 

Ellis: You’re very kind for allowing it to choose how to die, Kate. 

(That wasn’t why I saved the bird, but…)

(... Ellis certainly has a strange way of thinking about things.) 

I felt a little uncomfortable, but decided not to dwell on it and continue our detour towards the fairy’s castle. 

…

Kate: E-excuse me… I’m here to seek help with breaking a curse.

Kate: Is the fairy home…? 

???: I am, but I ain't breakin' the curse.

The man who appeared was much younger than I had expected. 

Ellis: Jude, I’m back. 

Ellis: Let me introduce you, Kate. This is Jude, the fairy.

Kate: …? Hang on a second…

Kate: Why did you say that you're “back”? What's the relationship between you two…? 

Ellis: I’ve been working as Jude’s assistant for many years now. 

Ellis: When Jude isn’t busy, I sometimes find work at the mercenary recruitment place to keep my skills sharp. 

Kate: What… did you say…

Kate: Ellis. You offered to protect me on this journey, helped me so much throughout, and I trusted you… 

Kate: Now you’re telling me that you’re an underling of the fairy who cursed me…!? 

Ellis: Rather than an “underling”, I’d say we have more of a contractual relationship. 

Ellis confirmed it like it was no big deal.

(Ellis had ties with the fairy way before I did…) 

(We travelled together and I thought of him as a reliable companion… were those all one-sided on my part?) 

Ellis: What’s wrong, Kate? You don’t look so good…

Ellis extended a hand towards me in concern, which I reflexively brushed away. 

Kate: … I-I’m sorry. 

Kate: I… need to go outside to cool my head. 

Overwhelmed by all that just happened within moments, my heart felt like it was on the verge of shattering. 

I excused myself and wanted to leave the castle, but the fairy didn’t allow me to. 

Jude the Fairy: Ya had a reason for comin' here, didn't ya? Guests oughta stay in the guest room.

Kate: What.

— Jude grabbed my arm and roughly shoved me into the guest without further discussion.

Now that Kate was locked away, the hall went silent once more.

By now, Kate was most likely being served warm tea and snacks in the magical guest room. 

Jude: … Ellis. Ya don’t understand human feelings at all, do ya? 

Jude: If she finds out that her bodyguard, whom she saw as a friend, actually has a contract with the exact fairy who cursed her, she’ll feel betrayed. 

Ellis: Is that so…

Ellis: It’s been five years since I became human, and yet there’s still so much I don’t know. 

Jude: It’s “only” been five years.

Ellis: For us, it’s “already” been five years.

Ellis: All I want is to make Kate happy… human emotions are so hard to understand. 

Jude: … 

Jude clicked his tongue in annoyance, not bothering to hide his irritation with Ellis’ non-human mindset. 

He then picked up a sword and slashed at Ellis without hesitation.

— However, Ellis didn't even flinch. Despite being cut, he didn't bleed and was perfectly calm. 

Ellis: … It’s pointless no matter how many times you try, Jude. 

The wound Jude inflicted on Ellis healed on its own, returning his body to how it was before. 

Ellis: As long as Kate doesn't find happiness, I won’t die.

Ellis: Regardless of whether I’m burned, frozen, stabbed, or slashed…

[simpingforbots]

*hi-hi, can I request Alpha Trion and his ward (reader) who studied with him when he was a sparkling, now (reader) has grown up, and they saw each other again, (reader) had to change his character and color (I hope I put it correctly) in order not to be killed, (the reader) is incredibly glad to see his teacher again and cried and hugged to death

I am more then happy to do request from any one and the idea sounded so cute. i hope you will enjoy it dear friend.

Little sparkling - big cat

Another day in Iacon city filled with all buissy life – every one had somewhere to be, something to do. Even Primes. Being leaders of entire nation was not easy – they had to deal with laws, taxes, had to attend courts and just make sure every thing ran smooth.

Alpha Trion let out a grumble of exhaustion, tossing another tablet on to the table, next to the other neatly stacked pile of it. Laws. Why they had to be so difficult to deal with. Not a day passes by where there is a new document brought to him by Sentinel about some new law, some one misbehaving or reports about quintessons. He is tiered of this, but he has to keep on going. A sudden noise of small peds alerted him, moving a hand away from his aching head and turned to the side, to see a little sparkling happily run in to archives. Without a second of though, he smiled.

“Ah, I see it is another day for our  little adventure? – he chuckled softly, getting up from his chair.

This little sparkling was one if a few thing he was looking forward seeing. Every day this little sparkling would make it’s way here, away from their proto-hatcher, all way up here just to have a field day in archives. Trion still remembers the first day he saw them, seating by the shelf, wiggling their little peds as they scrolled though pad for sparkling’s, grinning widely. They did not even noticed him until it was to late, looking up with big orange optics filled with shock. After that he made sure that this little one was safe and would be happy every time this sparkling visited them, with permission of their proto-hatcher of course.

He chuckled softly as the little one giggled and hugged his ped, looking up at him with happiness, excited for another history lesson. Not wanting to disappoint them Alpha Trion lifted them up, comfortable settling them in his arms.

“Ready? What shell we learn about today?” he asked with smile, walking though countless shelf with sparkling looking around with wide eyes like of they were in a candy store “how about we learn something” Trion hummed as he scanned though pads “ah, there we go”

He pulled one pad out and turned it on, the bright light attracting sparkling’s opticks towards it, focusing on letters. He gently moved it closer to them, letting their little digits wrap around what must be huge pad for them and slowly read out what the pad said.

“M. Ma. Marti. Martial art. Martial arts!” proud of them self the sparkling looked up with smile, hugging the pad “what’s martial arts?”

“it’s art of fighting” little one let out a gasp of amusement, smiling even wider, earning a chuckle from Trion “I knew you would like something like this. You look like a fighting spirit.”

“Fighting spirit?” small one coked their head, confused “what is that?”

“it means you are strong” Trion explained, returning to the table, settling little one on table. “ so, do you want me to read or?

“I want to! I can do it “ the little one proudly proclaimed, making Trion’s spark flicker with warmth. It only been few cycle since they started reading by them self and they were very proud of this achievement. Though, even if Trion was embarrassed to admit it, he would miss reading for them. He leaned on table, supporting his head with his arm as he pationly listened to little one started reading the pad. Stumbling over some word, with which he helped. It was a very peaceful moment and he craved it very much. This little ball of joy brought peace to his turbulent life and he started thinking of something. What of he can train them? They look interested by the book about martial arts, so why not to teach them. Surely he will have to be a bit harsher, yet still, it be nice to have them by his side. After all he sort of though of them as his sparkling as well. And not that their proto-hatcher would mind it. They seemed quite happy to know that their little one was under his care. He watched them read with peace, time to time saying hi to his fellow primes, who would swoop in to place some more work pads on his table and coo over the little one. After some time the little one came upon images of different and did their best to copy the moves, making Trion certain of what he wanted to do. After that day he started taking little sparkling to training grounds, showing different moves, which they instantly copied. He was right, this little one has a good potential in them.

He watched them grow with every sickle and soon they were grown bot, getting more and more taller and wiser, almost growing taller then him, almost reaching Megatronus tall stature, which was a surprise for him. And they also grew closer to him. They were always by his side, keeping an eye from anything out of place, ready to though them self in front of any dagger, which Trion appreciated, but whished they would not.

“Say, little one” he spoke softly, looking up from another pad, staring at tall bot by his side, who stood motionless, keeping any eye on door frame “How is your proto-hatcher. Haven’t herd from them for a while.

“they are alright. Buissy a bit” ward replied, keeping straight face.

“hm.... my Primus this is boring” Trion stood up, immideatly getting his wards attention “how about a little break”

“sure” a soft familiar smile appeared on the stern face, knowing well what one of 13 Primes meant.

They followed Trion in to archive, where he picked up a pad about some legend, seating down on the floor, crossing his legs. They joined him as well, seating close by them and happily listened to them read, something that Trion insisted on. They set there for a while, getting a bit of rest from every thing.

----

Years, no, centuries pass by and little ward was tiered. They had to go in to hiding as false Prime rose to power, changing their colour and even body, all to avoid being hunted down by Arachnid. They knew something that Sentinel did not wanted to be a publick knowledge, and being Alpha Trions ward did not made it easier. They had to flee the Iacon, hiding above and scavenging for any energon they could find, time to time even raiding the trains for some just to make it thought. It was hard. The constant threat of Quintessons, constant bickering with once High guards made it hard for them. But after some years they grew close to this environment, knowing well what to and not to do in order to make another day. So it was shocking to see 4 cybertonians  out so openly. They rushed forward, helping them evade the scan’s of quintessons by hiding under old building, notisisng how small they were. It’s not normal for grown mechs to be this size? Until they saw their empty slots for t-cogs. It made them seethe with rage. Did Sentinel really was willing to step so low as to steal other’s T-cog just o make end with deal he made with Quintessons? They want to rip him apart. So they decided to join the stranded miners on their little adventure, hopping to at least see the grave of their Master one last time. They ventured though and found a cave, where was the last resting ground of Primes. It was a sombre sight. They all were left there, to rust away and be claimed by green, like some kind of criminals. Hell even criminals don’t deserve this. They simmered with anger until Orion called out and their turned to see what was the commotion.

Trion. Their spark still glowed with soft blue light and a sliver of hope rushed through their brain, as they rushed forward. Orion fed the rusted Trion an energon, and like a miracle, Alpha Trion rejuvenated. He stumbled a bit, saying something, ready to fight, only to be caught by someone before he could fall. It took some time to get used to his eyes again after what seemed like centuries of being offline, looking around. Bots. He can see bots, small for some reason. Where they still young? No, something was wrong. What happened to their chest, why they were empty. What is going on?

“Alpha Trion?”

Was that? He quickly looked around trying to spot a source of this familiar voice, looking around wide eyed. But there was no little one, instead there was a different bot – tall, dark plating, red eyes, they were nothing like the little sparkling he watch grow with bright paint and golden yellow eyes. He had to push him self up, but the bot refused to let him do it by him self, helping him up.

“are you alright? Oh primus what happened?”

After some second it clicked. He though his hand up, wrapping his hand aorund the brought shoulder of strange mech, staring at them with wide eyes. It could not be this. It is not right. The sparkling he grew was soft, had soft features, not sharp fingers, fangs and sharp edges. But the voice. The soft and worried eyes. It could not be.

“Little one”

Without even a second the tall mech wrapped them self around Trion, pulling him closer to them, letting out quite sobs and apologies, blaming them self for not able to keep them safe. Trion could not bring him self to blame them to begin with. It was never their fault, they did their best. He hugged them back, letting a heavy sigh. He will make sure Sentinel pays for all the pain he caused to his little sparkling. Even if they are no longer small.

[star-fandoms]

I FW WITH THIS HEAVYYYYY OP!! I do have my own theories as well that I wanted to add onto this since I agree with yours, so I hope you don't mind!! :3 A lot of this stuff you said but I'm also adding more detail from the new update!!

HEAVY HEAVY SPOILERS!!

For starters, I agree HEAVILY with the idea of reincarnation being a theme in this game!! The creators tumblr has a few posts where Sol talks about his soulmate, and while that isn't a definite need for a series to be a reincarnation series, I've always thought about soulmates being someone you'll meet in EVERY life after you're reincarnated! Also, I feel like Sol remembers his past life, I didn't know about the post where Amnesia was mentioned, but I feel like it def fits into Sol remembering his past life! So I think Sol, MC, AND Crowe were all reincarnated!

Sol, being the executioner, as you said! One, they kinda LOOK familiar, when I saw the executioner I instantly said Sol LMAO! Two the whole bruise on his neck thing you mentioned! Three, in the bad end Sol uses an axe to kill Crowe, axe's are KINDA similar to guillotines, you aren't gonna stab someone with an axe like you would a knife, you use an axe to chop like a guillotine! Also I'm like 95% certain I've seen something from a game or movie where the use an axe shaped blade instead of the typical guillotine blade! Fourth!! I know Sol isn't the ONLY one who kills, but he's a yandere, he EXECUTES his rivals!! The executioner drawing is also seen with an axe(what Sol used to kill Crowe with) and a collar on and Sol ALSO wears a collar!! It also says that the executioners arms are littered with scars and so are Sol's!

I actually see MC being either a commoner, peasant, OR and most likely, a farmer! I think something from Sol, MC's, and Crowe's past life carried on with them until this life!! And I think MC has always been a farmer, like how they are now! Another reason is when you study with Crowe, in Crowe's question, he talks about the queen befriending a commoner(I believe Crowe is supposed to be the "queen"), I very much feel like the whole scenario Crowe brought up is SO much like Crowe's relationship with the MC! The MC being sus of Crowe for being so nice to them in the beginning of their friendship, much like how you can choose to say you'd be wary of the queen for being nice to you if you were a commoner, Crowe being extremely kind and helpful to the MC even though he really has NO reason to, and he even LOOKS like royalty(he's so pretty omfg) and has been stated to be wealthy! During your first outing with Crowe(when he takes you sightseeing!) he asks if you believe in god, if you say no the MC starts to talk about how they would get upset that their father and theirs hard work would get downplayed and seen as a miracle of god, later in the study session, Crowe uses the same scenario for the what happened between the farmer and the queen, the queen using the farmers hard working labor to throw parties.

And finally, Crowe being royalty! OKAY!! So I've already said he looks princely and is wealthy(which as you said Sol hates the rich)! Two in the study scenario with Crowe he talks about how everyone started turning against the queen because of rumors(I already think about how he doesn't get along with his family so they COULD be included with the people who turned against Crowe! Much like how there were other nobles talking bad about the queen!), I think that Crowe has SOME kind of recollection about his past of being the queen, def not to the extent that Sol has but at least SOME!! I think this because of Crowe's friends, Crowe's friend group consists of people who are "poor"(not necessarily meaning poverty in this case, but poor in terms of hard lives and scenarios being thrown at them) and Crowe is helping them and accepting them even though he once again, does not need to. He welcomes them into him life and under his wing. I also have a feeling that something is going to happen where a rumor comes up about Crowe that you can choose to leave him for, and I also wonder if his friends will leave them, they seem really loyal to him though, but in the comments on Crowe's profile the creator says that Crowe's route is a rollercoaster of emotions, and it would literally break my heart to see all/most of Crowe's friends leave him because of a rumor. I'm not too sure of this since not EVERYONE left the queen behind so they could stick by Crowes side, which is also just another reason I think MC was a farmer in their past life too since the people against the queen were seen holding pitchfork/rake. FINALLY!! I think Crowe is the queen because in the bad end, it states that Crowe's head is barely hanging on, number one guillotines cut off heads(furthering pushing Sol to be seen as the executioner!) but also royalty can ALSO be guillotined(such as Marie Antoinette!) so i think it shows that the queen was guillotined and Sol was trying to replicate that with Crowe! Also Crowe literally CRIES if you say you'll be friends with the queen and stay by her side(which i think would be even more heartbreaking for Crowe if you DID end up leaving him!)

Although I can still see Crowe and MC being switched, with MC being a royal in their past life and Crowe coming from nothing! Maybe MC being a farmer in debt was punishment for NOT helping the poor townsfolk! And Crowe also states that if the queen was nice to him, he'd be sussed out as well, maybe showing that HE WAS the commoner(if the queen was giving the commoner gifts, then maybe that's why Crowe ended up wealthy in this life!) If you choose to see the queen as a friend, Crowe says that's very noble of the MC, as expected of them, and then does not further his explanation!

Also just as a one off comment, Sol clearly likes your neck with how often he buries his face in it, but Crowe ALSO buries his face into the crook of your neck at the end of day two!!

cw TKaTB spoilers, theory, mention of guillotine, amnesia memories spoilers

TKATB and its characters belong to @fantasia-kitt !!

TKATB IS RATED +18. MINORS DONT INTERACT

Was about to post a theory about how sol could have been reincarnated to meet pumpkin again in a different timeline bc they werent allowed to be together in their own timeline, the bruise on his neck being an indication of being guillotined AND him giving purple tullips (sign of royalty and elegance) to pumpkin on valentine's, feeling insecure about his lunch (saying it isnt "extravagant" enough for pumpkin) and somehow using pardon me instead of excuse me (he doesnt usually use this type of elegant language i think. could be just me) kinda seems like we were royalty before? I mean, crowe mentioning marie antoinette and the game giving us many options for the question seems sussy to me. Why does MY opinion on the queen matter this much to both crowe and sol since their love meters go crazy with the answers? speaking of historical figures, i cant be the only one thinking sol WAS the "executioner". maybe that could be it. he was "the executioner" and we were a part of the royalty: swimming in money, expensive alcohol and the sweat of the peasants; and sol being one of them. Maybe we didnt even know who he was but him being a delusional yandere, he thought we were inseperable lovers. maybe that was why he was drawing someone in peasant clothes. He was just drawing his past life, could be the day he first saw us or the day he lost us. anything to support my theory? what inspired the game, ofc :D i was stalking fantasia's socials when i saw the game was was inspired by 3 gamea, one being Amnesia Memories (IM A HUGE FAN OF THAT SHIT). if you didnt know, amnesia memories is about a girl waking up with lost memories, trying to remember things. but bc it is an otome, she has a partner in every world she wakes up in. so if she fails to recollect her memories, she ends up in a different universe with a different partner. the relevance between tkatb and amnesia? in amnesia the final LI can also switch between different universes. he loses the mc in a fire and cant live without her. So a god helps him go to a different universe to be with her again. But everytime he goes to a universe, the world either kills the mc or him somehow. Following with pumpkin being royalty and sol not being able to live with us, what if after our death; he went to a different universe where we are classmates (equal parties!!) and now the entire purpose of his existence being, well, being with us forever?

But yknow. I decided not to post it since pretty much everyone already thinks this way! its probably what fantasia WANTS us to think to bamboozle us in the end, right? :3

P.S. not to mention his hatred for the rich. the rich and their stupid rules were the things that stopped him from being with us! but what if hyugo ALSO has switched universes along with him for his own reasons? Could this be the deal between the two, and the reason why hyugo wont allow sol to just die like that?