#i always said that if anything happened to that egg i would cry like a baby and i ended up being right

[soup--champ]

messy doodle because i’m going through it

[cordeliawhohung]

Touch Me 'Till I Vomit (pet!au) [6]

pet!au part 6 | ghoap x fem!reader | tag list | early access available on patreon

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cw: overall theme of non-con, dub-con medication taking, mouth inspection, lots of exposition

Everything hurts when you wake up.

Though you’re plagued by an ache that targets your hips, shoulders, and back, it’s namely your throat that hurts the most, which is something to be said considering you’ve been sleeping in a kennel for the last week. It’s a surprisingly spacious cage, tucked into the far corner of the bedroom across from the large bed Johnny and Simon sleep on. A small, foam pad fits perfectly inside of the bottom of the cage, providing you with some cushioning between your body and the frigid, metal bottom of the cage, but it’s certainly far from humane. There’s not enough room for you to stand up in it, but you’re grateful to at least be able to stretch the full length of your legs out.

It’s jerry-rigged, you’re sure of it. Not store bought, but handmade with spare metal bars and a half decent welding job. By the size of it, you’re certain it used to hold something much larger than yourself. As for what — or who — it was, you don’t even want to venture a guess. Every night, Simon locks you in with a padlock, trapping you for the hours everyone is asleep. You wake each morning with a full bladder, but he wakes you up no later than six in the morning, allowing you to use the bathroom before he starts getting ready for his day.

In some ways, Simon is considerate like that. Always ensuring you’re not going too long without any sort of need. Never starves you, or has done anything to intentionally cause devious harm. But there are many instances where he is not so generous.

Like last night, when Johnny got needy. He had complained something fierce the first night Simon locked you up. The man can hardly go a few hours without needing to put his hands on you in some capacity, and you took note of the way his blue eyes grew misty seeing you locked away out of his reach. Simon assured him it was only a temporary solution until he could get you fixed — which you’re still too scared to ask what getting you fixed means — but that could only quell Johnny’s emotions for so long.

He had lasted six days before he needed to put his hands on you again. To his credit, you had expected him to crack significantly sooner, and a part of you wished he had. Perhaps he would have been easier on your throat if you hadn’t pitifully shrugged off all his attempts he passed at you during the daytime while Simon was away. It all came to a head last night when Simon was getting ready to lock you away until morning when Johnny decided he just couldn’t handle it anymore.

Johnny has a way of begging that makes you feel bad for him, and Simon has a gaze that tells you it would be stupid to refuse his favorite pet. So you obeyed. Got on your knees like a good pet while Johnny abused your throat with his cock. You’ve gotten better at not crying when it happens, and he’s gotten better about letting you breathe while he uses you. Still, your eyes water on their own volition, blurring your view of Johnny above you and Simon behind him, going about his nightly routine as if you’re not being torn to shreds on the bedroom floor.

You’re still feeling the effects of it this morning as Simon unlocks your cage and allows you to relieve yourself in the restroom. In a way, it almost feels like strep. Raw skin sticks to itself, and you try your best to choke the ache to soothe the pain, but it always seems to come back. It dries and cracks, and you’re wholly surprised that you can’t taste blood when you swallow.

Breakfast that morning is the same as it usually is: eggs, toast, milk, bacon, sausage — everything fresh and homemade. Simon insists that the three of you sit at the table for every meal as if he’s afraid you’ll choke and die off without him. No one makes conversation, and if anything is said, it’s usually some sort of comment made by Johnny. He thanks Simon for the food, and compliments how juicy the bacon is before he silences himself by eating. All you do is keep your head down and attempt to keep the attention off of you.

It’s a strange thing, surviving in that place. You exist so quietly you hardly feel like you’re in your own body. In order to live, you have to play the part. The chew toy. The pet. Bonnie. It’s a balancing act between remembering who you are, and behaving well enough that Simon has no reason to punish you. Whether you like it or not, it’s easy math. You stand no chance of escaping that place on your own. Still, as you pick at your eggs and nibble on your toast, you quietly promise to yourself that you’ll get out of there one day. No matter what it takes.

Something’s different when Simon leaves for work today. Johnny’s not hounding you the moment the door shuts. Usually, he demands that you sit with him to watch a movie of some sort on the countless DVD’s and VHS tapes stored on old bookshelves in the living room. It’s not a terrible way to pass the time, and there are a few movies you rather enjoy. Every now and then you’ll fall asleep and wake up with his hands groping your chest or shoved down your pants like you’re some play-thing, but he’s oddly quiet this time.

Once breakfast is finished, he takes his plate, cleans it up and then leaves you alone after giving you a chaste kiss on the cheek. His figure vanishes down the hallway that leads to the back of the house — a place you have yet to explore. His disappearance is marked by the shutting of a very squeak door, and you finally feel like you can breathe easier. You’re not curious enough to follow him, and you’re certainly not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. A moment of peace and quiet in your life is rare these days when you’re too busy playing the pliable fawn so that you’re not hurt — or worse.

Enjoying your rare solitude, you take refuge by the open window in the living room. There’s an old recliner that smells vaguely like oak and grass that you like to curl up in while you read one of the old classical books Simon has stored next to the fireplace. It’s been a few days since you’ve really been able to get a breath of fresh air, but it doesn’t do much to calm your nerves. Though you’ve been there for a week, it’s strenuous trying to comprehend the situation you’ve found yourself in. Your fingers fiddle with your name tag as you rest your eyes from reading and look out at the trees that line the edge of the property, lush with the summer heat and rain.

It’s an enticing view with foliage that dances freely in the breeze. Grass and moss covers the field haphazardly, covering everything in a soft blanket of vibrant green. It whispers for you to run toward it and never look back. To soak in the feeling of the earth between your bare toes.

You know better than to run from a man who already has your scent memorized.

Your mind flashes back to the bath Simon gave you a few days ago, where he had you get dressed in clothes you already owned, and washed you with the same soap you’ve been using for years. How many signs did you miss? How long did you live in blissful ignorance to the insidious intentions that were being planned for you? Would you still be at home right now, safe in your own bed away from these freaks had you done anything different? Or were you always destined to be stuck there? Locked away in some home. How cruel and fickle fate can be.

Simon smells like blood and muscle when he gets home. You’ve gathered from the fresh nicks on his knuckles and old scars that litter his hands that he does some sort of blue-collar work. Judging by the fact he always seems to come home with some type of meat to cook up for dinner, you’re guessing he’s a butcher. You wonder if that’s why he’s keeping you and Johnny. Perhaps something in that twisted, stupid brain of his is unable to love the animals he tears apart limb by limb. Maybe he keeps you in order to cover up his guilt.

When Johnny emerges from whatever room he had holed himself up in for the entire day, he’s disheveled. Messy, black strands of hair stray flippantly from the shape of his mohawk, and the sides of his hands are darkened with some sort of grey dust. It reminds you of the graphite stains you would get as a kid practicing writing skills in school. Still, he’s all giggles and grins for Simon as he rubs up against him. Sickeningly loyal. Such a good dog.

He stays just as close and attached to Simon all throughout dinner, and just like you did that morning, you keep your head down while you eat. If Johnny wants to play the part of the devoted pet, that’s fine by you. Anything to keep Simon’s burning gaze away from you.

As he eats his meal, you wonder if he dreams of cutting you up. Shredding tendon from bone and shoving you into his maw like you’re a well deserved meal. You wouldn’t put it past him, that type of violence. He’s been more than content with collaring you and treating you like an animal, it would make sense. You wonder if he likes playing with his food before he eats.

“Bonnie.”

There’s hardly enough time for you to wash your plate after dinner before Simon’s demanding your attention. Despite the insane size of this man, he has an odd ability that allows him to sneak around the house nearly undetected, and by the time you turn around to answer him, he’s already in your space. You swallow as you look up at him. That terrible rawness still plagues your throat, but you know better than to stay silent.

“Yes?”

He has a small package in his hands that he keeps rotating, inspecting it closely, drawing your own eyes to it. It’s a thin sheet full of several small tablets that are meant to be poked through the foil encasing it. You count each row — seven tablets each in four total rows. An odd sensation tugs at your stomach as you realize what he’s got: birth control pills.

Relief floods through you as Simon fetches a small glass of water. You’re not sure how he got them — and you’re not sure you want to know — but if this is his idea of fixing you, then you’ll take it. It’s certainly better than your other theories of him potentially trying to perform an actual surgery on you himself. You’d wager he’s good with knives, but not that good. Though, he’d probably like tearing you apart like that, but you refuse to entertain that thought. You’ll take the pills.

Anything to not get pregnant.

Simon places one of the small pills in the palm of your hand, and you turn it over in your fingers. It looks legitimate. Not something that’s manufactured in someone’s basement, at least. You pray that your instincts are right as you place it on your tongue before swallowing it down with a gulp of water. It goes down just as easy as you anticipated, and it settles in your stomach without protest.

There’s hardly enough time for you to set the glass on the counter next to you before Simon’s fingers dig into your cheeks. You whine as you brace your hands against his chest, eyes already wetting from the pain as his grip grows too firm to be loving. You wince at the pressure and stare up at him with bewildered eyes.

“Open,” he demands.

You instantly comply, praying that he’ll loosen his grip if you do, but he doesn’t. Instead, he starts to tilt your head side to side, inspecting every inch of your open mouth as he presses the inside of your cheeks against your teeth. He looks about ready to shove his fingers into your mouth, to feel every inch of your wet tongue and dull teeth, but he doesn’t. Once he’s determined that you’re not hiding the pill underneath your tongue or in the pockets of your cheeks, he relinquishes his grip on you. His fingers leave a lasting pain that throbs just underneath your skin, and you stare up at him like he’s betrayed you, as if you should have expected any better of him.

“Good girl,” he says, voice dull.

“Does this mean I can have her now?”

You hadn’t realized Johnny had been behind you, and when you turn to face him his eyes are full of wonder. This is the downside of birth control, you realize. Now that you’re on the pill — now that you’re fixed — Johnny’s going to have free rein of you. If he fucks you as often as he abuses your throat, you know you’re in for a bad ride. Your cunt already hurts at the thought of it.

“Down boy,” Simon snaps.

Johnny’s shoulders tense and he frowns at Simon’s harsh tone. The poor, pathetic thing looks wounded as Simon disregards you and approaches his favorite pet. His pale hands look out of place on the warmth of Johnny’s arms as he pulls him close. It’s uncharacteristically soft. Johnny melts at his touch and leans into him, lips parted in a silent plea for an embrace.

“Look at you. Poor mutt,” Simon croons. Despite the abrasiveness of his words, his voice is the softest you’ve ever heard from him. “Have I been neglectin’ you? Gone too long without a proper fuck? Want me to fix that?”

A switch flips inside Johnny. You can tell by the way his eyes widen and how he begins to paw at Simon’s chest, like he’s trying to tear his clothes off right then and there in the kitchen. Something freezes you to the ground. Forces you to stay still, as if they won’t see you and forget about you if you don’t move. Nothing but prey, hiding from the predators.

“Yes, please Simon,” Johnny whimpers.

“C’mon, I know you can beg. Used to do it all the time before we got Bonnie, yeah? Beg,” Simon demands.

“I’ve been so good,” Johnny says, words exploding out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“Have you?” Simon challenges.

He nods. “Haven’t fucked her, just like you asked. Didn’t even touch her at all today while you were gone.”

Simon smirks, and you avert your gaze like it’s blinded you. “That why you’re so worked up?”

“Please,” he tries again. “I miss you.”

The only thing you hear after that is the sound of their lips crashing together. It’s wet and hungry, and you flinch at the sound of Simon’s groan. Something terrible and sharp twists in your stomach, and you feel sick at their words. Despite the terrible things Simon does, and the grotesque words he calls him, Johnny seems helplessly in love with him. So starved for affection, he’ll take it from the very hand of the man who’s hurting both of you.

“Good boy,” Simon whispers.

Reality shifts, making the air feel thicker, and that’s when you realize that Simon’s attention has been brought to you. There’s no time for you to retract as he reaches his free hand toward you and slips a finger in the loop of your collar. With a swift yank, you’re tumbling toward him with your hands grasping his forearm to try and keep yourself steady.

He chuckles, and you realize you think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard him laugh. You don’t like the sound of it. It’s dark and grating. Gargled like a wolf’s laugh. Something that precedes pain.

“C’mon, Bonnie. Johnny’s hungry.”

[obae-me]

The Reunion We Deserved

I said I would do it and so I did, all in one night, one sitting, fueled by nothing but determination, random inspiration, and spite. I re-wrote and created my version of what I would've liked to see at the end of Nightbringer Season 2. Is this a bit dramatic? Yes? Is this the kind of thing I wanted anyway? Yes. I want sobbing, I want people being pathetic, I want emotion, I want it all. So, if that's what you were hoping to see for lesson 40, I hope this can ease some of that anger we had.

Spoilers ahead for Nightbringer since this is quite literally my "remaking" of the ending, which includes in-game references to later lessons!

TW: Blood mention, injury, angst.

Word Count: 4,391

Tears pricked your eyes as you looked upon the several smiling faces of the demons you had come to care for. At the beginning, all you could think of was returning to your home, your time-line, your brothers. You had coped thus far by constantly reminding yourself that these were not the same people you had come to know. But now… after delving into their souls, reforging the pacts, fleeing down the different circles of hell to save one only to nearly lose them all… they’d found their way into your heart once more. How could you? How could you leave them so easily? And tell them to their faces that you’d meet again soon when you knew it was a lie. It might be soon for you, but it would be nearly an eternity for them. Not to mention that the way Solomon and Barbatos described it, this was almost like another universe… Would another version of you show up for them? Or would you leave these particular brothers for good?…

Feet frozen in sorrow and anxiousness, you could only look at them and cry. What were you feeling in this very second, now that you were on the cusp of what you had worked so hard for? The way back home was right above you, the air and magic inches away from sucking you up into it’s mystical vacuum. Your precious family, your home was one step away. So why did it also feel like your heart was being torn from you? “I—“ Your words choked up in your throat. You were tempted to tell them everything right there and then, spill the burden you had been carrying on your shoulder this entire time.

“It’ll be alright,” Lucifer spoke up, seeing your worry, but exuding nothing but confidence himself. “I gave you my blessing after all.”

“Plus, with the Great Mammon’s pact, you’re hella lucky! You’ll get home with no problems, I’d bet on it! S-So you better not make me lose, got it? Get home safe…and happy.”

Levi shook his head a little. “You’d bet on anything wouldn’t you…” But then he turned his head back towards you, nearly just as bold as Lucifer in this one moment. “If someone like me can have courage, you can too. Don’t worry! You’re just like a Main Character! You have indestructible plot armor!”

“Did everyone already forget the white dragon I helped summon?” Satan scoffed. “Their safety and success is guaranteed. So don’t give us that face,” he addressed you.

“Besides!” Asmo perked up. “If anything happened we’d all come rushing to save you! Just like we did for Lucifer. If we can do that, we can do anything! Oo, I just said something real dashing just now! You better take that to heart, hun!”

Beel nodded several times. “You have Luke’s wish egg too. I also made wishes over my eggs at breakfast this morning. I wished for you to always feel healthy and full and loved. And that we’d get to see each other again soon.”

“Those eggs might’ve tasted magical Beel, but they weren’t really…” Belphie looked up his twin as he shook his head, but then he shrugged, coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t worth explaining. “Hey,” he stared at you. “Don’t waste your energy crying now. You’ll need all your strength for your journey. I won’t forgive you if you leave too sad.”

All their words ended up making you laugh, the smile across your face twitching as you worked to force out trembling words. “You all better be kind to one another.” Someone behind you was tugging on your arm. “And make sure you don’t tease Luke too hard.”

“Come on,” Solomon whispered softly to you, tugging you a little harder, making you take a few steps back. The rift in space-time started to roar, attempting to drown out your voice as you struggled for these last few seconds.

“And make sure you all remember to eat and sleep properly. A-and, tell the others at the ceremony that I love them. I… love you all so much.”

“We have to go…” Solomon’s voice sounded tense, like he was nearly ready to cry himself, only keeping himself strong for you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he nearly hoisted you back himself. Before you left, you reached into the pocket of your pants, fishing out the letter that you had written alone in your old room, what seemed like forever ago now, the one still stained with old tears. You tossed it to the ground in front of you, hoping they would read it, hoping it would help…them live without you.

The last thing you heard was a chorus of cracking voices, getting cut off before they could tell you they loved you too…

And then you were gone. A harsh and forceful wind seemed to suck all the air from your breath. It was almost as if you were being plunged underwater, several forces of pressure from the thousands of years you were swirling past was threatening to crush you. The only sensation you were aware of was Solomon’s. His arms were holding onto you tightly, continuing to mutter spells over and over and over again to keep you safe, expending all of his waining power to push you both through the folds of reality and out on the other side.

Gravity. Disorientation. Falling. A heavy weight slammed against your chest so hard, you wondered if your ribs cracked. The back of your head hit something firm. Everything went black for a while.

After who knows how long, your eyes opened again, staring straight up into the Devildom sky, the shifted stars more familiar to you. Your head was splitting with pain, your breath a wheeze as you glanced down to see Solomon’s limp body keeping you pinned against the ground.

“S-Solomon?” It took a short while for the panic to settle in. “Solomon!” After a moment of struggling, you managed to get him off of you, setting him on his back in the grassy plane you had been spat back out onto. His face looked drained. A chant left the base of your throat, using the last scrap of magic you had to give him a spell to reinvigorate his body. His eyes shot open, coughing as he rolled over onto his side, pushing himself up onto his arms before he fell down again. “Take it easy!” Together, using each other as support, you both got back up to your feet.

“I’m sorry…I had meant to deliver us right in front of the House of Lamentation, but…”

“You did alright,” you assured him, rubbing his back to keep his dizzy mind conscious. “A bit of a rough landing, but we’re alive…” But then, the better question was… “Are we—“

“There you are.” A calm voice manifested itself as a demon in front of you. Barbatos stepped out of a portal, his expression nearly as neutral as ever, except there was something in his eyes that was shining, a strange tremor to his hand that was completely unnatural for someone as him. Then he frowned as he took in the state of both of you, his nostrils flaring as he took the both of you with him, each with one gloved hand. You were pulled into a much less chaotic rift this time. Although the jolt was still enough to nearly cause both you and the sorcerer to fall back to your knees. Before that could happen though, you were shoved into a bed.

The guest rooms of the castle appeared the same as always, but something in particular felt nostalgic, like you’d just returned to a childhood home. Solomon appeared to be ushered into a bed right by your side, both your minds too rattled to resist, as the butler threw open the guest room door from the inside and summoned nearly every Little D in the entire building. “I need human medication, bandages, two sets of pajamas, the herbal tea I set aside in the kitchen. I need the oven preheated, the counter prepared, two trays set, and need them all done within the next two minutes.” There was a very subtle raise to his voice, the seriousness of his tone sending a chill down your spine and sending every Little D scattering for their lives. Barbatos spent one second observing them flee before he dissipated once more, getting wisked away through another portal of his own making.

This all felt…so surreal. Perhaps it was the pain that you were in that was making it feel like a dream. Like you’d wake up in Cocytus Hall and be right back at square one. And yet, something in you was missing that place… that house that you had just started to get used to. The furniture and things both you and Solomon had bought to make it your shared home. But your real home was here. Well, hopefully here.

You wouldn’t get your hopes up over anything yet. Not until you got to see them.

Barbatos returned before you could even begin to ask Solomon about any of this. A whirl of varying shades of green caused your vision to do somersaults as you were quickly fretted over. Salves and bandages were wrapped around your torso and a damp cloth gently touched the back of your head. That splitting pain resurfaced, joining forces with an added stinging. Maybe it was your body going into shock, but you could’ve sworn you heard a shaky shush coming from your current caretaker as you were cleaned and patched up quickly. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer after that till the aches went mostly away, your head clearing up again as a set of your own pajamas were settled at the foot of the bed, a silver tray stretched over your lap and propped up on two stands. A small plate with a single pastry sat in front of you, along with a bitter smelling dark-green tea that you could tell you’d rather avoid imbibing.

Swiveling your head to the side, you saw Solomon leaning back against the headrest and a few pillows, a bit more vibrancy in his eyes, although those intense dark circles were hard to miss. He was okay. Thank…everything.

“Eat. Drink. Both of you.” The butler stood between the beds, realizing he’d spoken quite against his normal demeanor, he cleared his throat, his palm pressed between his collarbones. “Phoenix’s Breath Tea. You’ll both need it to recover. I apologize for making you both consume something so distasteful, but I’ve found it goes down a bit smoother paired with something sweet.”

A single whiff of the hot beverage in your hand was enough to make you cough, some sense burning in your nose. You settled the cup back down, taking a deep breath, trying to get your head on straight. “Barbatos… Are we…?”

The butler’s eyelids fluttered slowly. “You are,” he stated, his voice quiet, almost in awe. “You’re home. Back in the world you belong.”

A lump immediately formed in your throat, pushing the tray forward and turning to get out of bed. “I need to go. I need to see them, I—“ Before you could get one foot touching the ground, you were wrangled back into bed.

“I’ll fetch them. I swear you won’t have to wait too much longer. But you must drink the tea and you must take a moment to recover. If the others were to know the state you both were in right now, the castle would be torn—“

A banging sound ripped through the room like a gunshot. The guest room door was busted completely off it’s hinges, the wood of the frame splintering, the door soaring across to the left and fully embedding itself into the wall like a dart stuck in a board. If it weren’t for Barbatos’ inhuman skills, you’ve spilled the tea and dessert all over yourself. The royal attendant audibly sighed, sweeping himself to his feet and holding his arms out, his demon form manifesting, wrestling back a writhing and screaming black mass.

Your eyes went wide.

The mass stopped fighting, going rigid, stepping back to form seven different individuals. Three more non-hostile forms stood back in the wrecked doorway, two white, one red.

The bottom of your lip trembled as an overwhelming surge of joy and despair and relief and guilt all flooded out of you in tears. Your fears were pushed away. Your soul seemed to click back into place, like you’d been the last puzzle piece just waiting to finish the picture. “I’m home…”

Chaos erupted in the castle guest room. A few cracking wails nearly burst your eardrums. Asmo’s arms were the first to wrap around you, mascara running down his cheeks in large inky trails, but he didn’t seemed concerned in the least. Kisses lined your face with each sharp intake of breath, too shaken to even speak, he could only address you in his cries as he clutched onto you, trembling. His hand stroked your head, his breathing stopping for a moment when he saw the damage the landing had caused. This only caused him to whimper and cry harder, his thumb running over the outline of your features, running the back of his fingernails over your cheeks.

Levi was stuttering incomprehensibly. As he fell to his knees, he clutched at his head, going through an entire panic attack. He clawed at his chest, tearing gashes into the front of his clothes, looking up at you behind large welling tears as his tail wrapped around his entire torso. Mist filled the entire room as he continued to shake and cry so fervently he couldn’t even stand.

Luke was quite a ways away, holding onto Simeon’s clothing as he screeched out painful genuine child-like cries. The Angel curled over him, shushing him, getting to his own knees to hold the fledgling to his chest, assuring both the little angel and himself that you were okay. You were alright. Miracles had brought you together again. They didn’t have to worry any longer. The sleepless nights, the endless nightmares, the never-ending cold grip of sorrow could go away. He spoke this mantra- this prayer- over and over again, taking deep breaths between the words, blinking rapidly as he had to sway him and his charge back and forth to keep themselves both at ease. The older angel took the occasional glance over Luke’s shoulder, muttering a thankful blessing on repeat every-time he locked with your eyes.

Satan was thrashing around the room, screaming wildly, out of control, ready to beat Barbatos and Solomon for making you arrive in this condition, for not bringing you sooner, for not telling them sooner, for— Eventually, after getting thrown around the room a little, he ran out of things to be angry for. All it took was one look at your face to calm him down. He approached carefully, angry at himself, angry at whoever it was that took you away, but trying to keep himself together. Satan gingerly pulled Asmo off of you, turning Lust over to Solomon. Clearly, he’d been worried about his other pact-mate, hugging the sorcerer and crying a little more softly into his shoulder. Meanwhile, Satan reached a hand out hesitantly, like you were a feral cat he was trying to pet, worried you’d run away. His hand brushed through your hair and settled at the side of your face. Once he realized you weren’t going anywhere, his arms pulled you to him, pressing your face against his shoulder. “You’re here. You’re here again. You’re—“ His voice went hoarse, like he was losing it, like he’d been doing nothing but screaming for the entirely of your absence. Soon his words were nothing but faded squeaks, trying to portray his words but unable to. He simply held you instead. Then he tore himself away from you, heading over to the back wall and punching holes into the structure till his knuckles turned bloody.

Someone crawled onto the bed. Belphegor peered at you with an almost blank expression. His hand reached out, touching your knee, flinching as soon as he made contact, like the very act of him doing so would hurt you further. You could tell that maybe he felt like some of this was his fault, like he’d deserved the pain of having you be sent away from him, like if he did anything wrong again, you’d vanish for real this time, How many times could you come back from the dead? How close was he to losing you entirely? For good? As soon as his warmth mixed with yours, he collapsed on the mattress, curling up at your feet. He gathered the blanket towards his face, the end of his tail twitching erratically. His sobs were silent but violent, the entire bed shifting and bouncing as his body convulsed, his chest pounding as he broke down. Every once and a while, he would become extremely frightened, needing to gasp and look up to ensure you were real. You weren’t a dream. He pinched himself, shook his head, even almost bit at his hands to snap him out of this vision. But you were really here. He would curl back up and continue to cry.

White hair bobbed in front of your vision, two hands going to your shoulders and shaking you, pinning you against the headboard, fingernails careful not to dig themselves into your skin as they gripped your body. “What the hell is wrong with you?! Huh? Huh?! Do you have any idea what you put us through?! What you put me through?!” Mammon growls and screams shocked you.

“Mammon.” Lucifer’s voice settled as a stern warning, but something about it seemed weaker than usual.

Greed ignored him, continuing his rant. “You were just gone. Gone! You know that?!” He shook you again, careful not to rattle you too much. “And what am I supposed to do about that, huh?! What did I say?! I said—“ His voice cracked, trails of moisture streaming from his eyes and over his lips. “I said,” he repeated, “if you’re ever in trouble, you have to let me save you. What part of that didn’t you understand?! How dare you get taken somewhere where I can’t reach you?! How dare you?! How dare you?!” His voice continued to raise in pitch, sounding more and more unstable with each accusing question. Then he slumped, his forehead pressing against your chest as his hands held onto your shoulders tighter, almost bruising them, fearful of letting you go. He began shaking you a few times more, each shake meeker than the last. “How dare you. How dare you… How… W- What was I supposed to do if you didn’t come back?… The world is nothin’… I’m nothin’…”

Beel came over and helped his older brother to his feet, allowing him to sit on the side of your bed as Mammon furiously used the back of his wrist to rub at his cheeks. Gluttony stood over you, looking down with a wide close-lipped smile. “Welcome back.” He leaned down, pressing his cheek against yours as his large arms wrapped around the back of your neck. He took in the scent of you, burying his face into the crook of your neck for a moment. His body didn’t shutter, didn’t make noise, but you felt a few warm tears of his drip onto your skin. He silently and secretly teared up for just a few moments before he stood back up straight, gesturing to the tray with your items on it. “Eat, please. It’ll make you feel better.” The sixth-born took a few steps back to let you breathe, and as he moved back, someone else moved forward.

Lucifer stood at your bedside for quite some time in silence, looking down on you with a rather unreadable expression. He had a frown, eyes squinting like he was upset at you. He scanned you over, his brows furrowing, his jaw clenching. He refused to move, refused to say anything, refused to look you directly in the eyes. You moved forward a little, grabbing his hand, holding it in yours. All the sudden, the tension released. His eyes widened before his eyelids lowered, glancing at you past the vulnerable shimmer past his irises. Wrinkles of stress deepened in his forehead as his whole face contorted in agony. He held your hand tightly, bringing the back of it up to his lips. After that, he pulled you against him, his forehead pressed up against yours, his wings in his demon form acting as some sort of visual blocker, as if he couldn’t stand to have the rest of the room see how he was acting right now. He rubbed his face against yours back and forth, one small touch away from cooing, his hands caressing the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse, hearing your breath, taking in every detail and confirming to himself that you were indeed in his arms again, alive and mostly well. “You’ve come back to us,” he whispered, the end of his nose touching yours as one of his hands cradled the back of your neck. “Back to me.” His breath was hot as he panted for a moment, taking a deep breath and speaking in a hushed tone. “I had nearly begun to entertain the thought that…”

You pulled him closer to you, letting his head rest on your chest as you reached around to his back, grasping the cloth of his clothes in your hands. “You know I would fight through all the layers of hell to get to you.”

That seemed to resonate with him, but you weren’t quite sure he remembered that you were speaking quite literally. All those adventures…the things you’d all learned. How lost were they?…

However, Lucifer simply smiled, laughing a little, squeezing you before laughing again. “Yes, if anyone would do such a thing, it would be you. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” He straighted, fixed his clothing, lowered his wings, and moved further back into the room, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger as he paced towards a back corner.

Levi had finally soothed himself enough to move, walking on his knees towards the bed. His hands were fidgeting with every part of his outfit. Eyes puffy from crying, throat raw from his collapse earlier, he kept himself from speaking. You managed to smile down at him and wipe away the last few of his tears. His lips shook again before he lowered his head into your lap. Face-down in the fabric of the blanket, he kept shaking his head. He didn’t stop until your fingers ran through his hair. With a forced gulp, he eventually vocalized words. “I missed you… I was- was- was so scared I would…”

“Lose you.” Belphie sat up in bed, ignoring the fact that his face was now a mess. He scooted closer towards your side on the bed. “We thought we lost you.”

The youngest was able to say what none of the others could. Full silence washed over the room as the reality of the situation fully seemed to hit them, their shock slowly starting to fade.

Diavolo strode in, everyone moving out of the way to allow him to have his own time with you. The corners of his eyes crunched in happiness. His tight and broad shoulders sagged. Both of his large hands scooped up one of yours, bringing your touch to the side of his face. He closed his eyes, almost appearing as if he might purr any second. As he opened his sight back at you, a fire of positivity and excitement lit within him. “A party! We must throw a party! A welcome home celebration! This is…this is… a joyous day.”

At first, the others seemed confused. Then, one-by-one, small determined smiles spread across their faces. The sorrow melted and gave way to pure uncontrollable elation. People hugged each other, danced around the room, cheered, bounced, came back to kiss you, came back to hug you, nearly passing you around the room till Barbatos barged back in and took your hand, bringing you back to bed.

For a while, you assumed he would shut the idea down entirely. But then, the butler grinned. “I figured you would all say as much. Some preparations are already being made. In the meantime, we should let these two rest. They’ve had all too much excitement today.” Barbatos pulled the blanket back over your legs, readjusting the tray and giving you a biting glare that told you you wouldn’t be able to get out of drinking that god-forsaken tea. “But after that, we will celebrate. We will take every day and night to cherish you, and make up for the time we lost.”

Most of the brothers tried clinging to you, demanding they get to stay, but Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Simeon managed to corral the desperate demons and one small angel out of the room.

But before they all left, you shouted. “Wait!” They all turned, worried that something was wrong. However, you smiled, happy tears running down your face this time. “I love you all. So very much.”

“I cherish you with every fibre of my being.”

“There ain’t nothing more priceless than you.”

“E-Everything is so much more fun with you here with m-m- us…”

“I…don’t want to even try to imagine a world without you in it.”

“Nothing, and I mean nothing, hun, is as charming as you.”

“Our family isn’t complete without you in it.”

“You belong with us. End of story.”

“You are one of the most precious beings the three realms has ever known.”

“I find myself discovering new things to enjoy every moment I spend with you.”

“Listen, you are a shining beacon in the night. Know how special you are.”

“You teach me so much! If it weren’t for you, I might still be scare— I mean, dislike demons!”

“My dear apprentice… We couldn’t have gotten home without you. You deserve the world. I will stick by you no matter where you go. And you deserve to know—“

“How much we love you too.”

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (2/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest but they were unaware children, the angst, woman on the rape pill, suicidal thoughts, therapy ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The memory of that holiday haunted her for many years; a mixture of sadness, melancholy, regret and longing blended into one in her mind making her live in the past and present at the same time.

Although she had trouble remembering what she had been doing the day before, she remembered perfectly the expression on his face that day when Jace had taken his boxers from him – she saw the exact moment when he closed his eyes, heartbroken, and burst out sobbing like a small child.

Although he pretended to be an aloof boy who was unaffected by anything, in that moment his mask broke before her eyes showing how vulnerable he was.

The fact that he pushed her away after she helped him hurt her, but it didn't stop her from doing what she did next either.

"What is this? Are you still sleeping with the light on?" Jace asked, looking in her backpack for his book that he liked to read before bed.

She pressed her lips together, covering herself more tightly with the duvet.

"Yes." She muttered.

Jace snorted and shook his head.

"Only babies sleep with the light on. You need to get over your fear. You're already big." He said finally, unplugging her lamp, taking it with him.

"– n-no – I –" She whimpered, but her brother simply turned off the light and left her room.

"– you'll be fine –" He called out, and she hid under the duvet, panting heavily.

Her imagination always caused her clothes lying on the chair or various objects standing on the desk to remind her of disturbing, frightening shapes in the dark.

She was very afraid of them and of the fact that if she closed her eyes and just lay there, the monsters would slowly approach her until they devoured her.

She pulled the duvet slowly off her head and swallowed hard, seeing that the wardrobe was ajar, one of the long dresses spilling out of it like a glistening black ooze. She thought she heard a rustling sound and jumped when something hit the windowsill.

She thought she couldn't stand it – she burst out crying, pulled herself up and ran out of the room.

She didn't know where to go, afraid that if she complained to her mum about Jace he would later tease her even more or that worse, Rhaenyra would admit he was right.

That's why she stood in the corridor, terrified of being surrounded by darkness on all sides.

She walked to his door, knowing he would be furious, and opened it, breathing heavily – she heard him rise on his arms, his sleepy face with furrowed brows directed towards her.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled, trying to calm her breathing. "– can I sleep with you? –"

"– you must be crazy –" He said impatiently.

"– they took away my little lamp – Jace said I'm already big and I can't sleep with the light on – but I'm so scared –" She confessed with shame, feeling like all those children who wet their bed in their sleep and had to wake their parents to change their sheets.

Her uncle looked at her for a long moment before giving in, agreeing reluctantly, threatening to kill her with his own hands if anyone found out. She climbed onto his bed with relief and, feeling the warmth of his body next to hers, slept peacefully that night and all the nights that followed.

Despite his initial frustration with her daily nightly visits, he eventually allowed her to read books with him or even cuddle with him.

She noticed that the fact that she didn't tease him like her brothers did made him calmer around her and therefore, in essence, nicer.

She liked the fact that he stopped avoiding her, taking her along on his expeditions – they searched in the sand for unique treasures: old coins, unusual stones or shells, cartridges and other objects of interest.

They invented their own missions and tasks, pretending they were great explorers of ancient temples hidden under the desert sands, and dug deep holes hoping to really find something.

Usually they discovered beer bottles, however, it was all about the whole process, not the result, pretending that traps, poisonous insects or great windstorms lurked everywhere to force them to turn back from their path.

She enjoyed the way he made her feel with him as if they were characters from a book or a film: as it usually happened, although typically the partners didn't like each other at first, later they became inseparable companions, and each new day was another episode of the series in which they played leading roles.

"Have you ever had a boyfriend?" He asked her one day, walking side by side with her by the sea shore – they were just returning from an expedition where she had found lots of beautiful, large shells in which she believed mermaids' songs were enchanted.

She wanted very much to be a mermaid and hoped they would help her succeed.

However, his question turned her thoughts away from the matter, making her heart beat harder in her chest.

"No. And you?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle pressed his lips together, looking everywhere but at her.

"No."

They were silent for a long moment, embarrassed to be talking about such unusually adult matters.

She wondered if he wanted to ask her for advice on some amorous matter, to make her help him win the heart of the girl he secretly fancied, and she felt a twinge in her stomach at the thought.

"And would you like to have one? A boyfriend, I mean." He asked further, startling her. She blinked, looking at him with amusement.

What was he getting at with these questions?

"Well. It depends if I would like him." She said truthfully.

"Do you like me?" He muttered, and she giggled, feeling a pleasant, warm sensation spread through her heart.

"Yes."

"So?"

"What are you asking?"

She saw him press his lips together, clearly not wanting to appear a fool if there was a misunderstanding between them.

She thought she would take pity on him.

"I can be your girlfriend, but that will mean I get to hold your hand sometimes or give you a kiss." She said warmly.

Her uncle looked at her, his eyes shining in hope, embarrassment and disbelief. He hummed, pondering her words, terrified and excited at the same time.

"…but only when we're alone." He muttered.

"Alright."

Later that night he kissed her for the first time and did so repeatedly for many days afterwards.

His lips were pleasant to the touch, warm and moist, his hands touching her face full of delicacy and tenderness.

Years later, she realised that their kisses were a simple pressing of one lips against the other, without finesse or tongues, the way one would kiss an aunt or a mother on the cheek. There was nothing ambiguous about them – it was just that adults did it too, and it made them both feel more mature.

And then he came to her, pale, and although they had arranged another trip, neither of them had gone to the beach that day.

"– I'm breaking up with you –"

She shook her head, feeling her heart stop for a moment.

"– but –"

"– you're my niece – you can't be my girlfriend – sleep with your brother or your mum tonight –"

She blinked, looking at him in disbelief, feeling the cold sweat on her back, her throat squeezed tight while her eyes filled with burning tears of disappointment.

He had deceived her, used her, played with her to frustrate her brothers.

And then Luke hit him on the head with a bottle, and its shards smashed into his face. As Aemond and Alicent drove to the hospital, her grandfather, Viserys told her mother to return home.

"– it was an unfortunate accident, but it would be better if you left sooner – your presence will only make things worse, Alicent needs to cool off –" He said, her brother, Luke, as she did, sat on the couch and was shaking, whooping with tears.

Despite her desperate pleas and her attempt to escape, her parents locked her in the car saying it was better that way and drove off, without goodbye, without explanation, without compensation.

All the way home she cried, clutching in her hand a piece of paper with his phone number on it, which she found slipped under the door of her room that same morning.

She spent the next few weeks pretty much just crying and sleeping, refusing to eat or drink, feeling that her life was over before it really began.

The boy who broke her heart had been hurt by her family and she didn't know how she was ever going to look him in the face at the family table again.

It turned out that her mother had simply only been in contact with her grandfather from then on, saying that perhaps it would be better that way.

That maybe this would separate them from this world.

At the time, she didn't understand what she meant.

The first text message she sent him was when she overheard her brothers talking, saying that her uncle would now have an artificial eye like a terminator.

The sense of guilt and regret that he was left alone with this didn't give her peace that night, and although she hadn't slept with the light on for a long time, she liked to imagine with her eyes closed that he was lying next to her.

It calmed her down.

She took her phone in her hand, chose his number in her contacts and began to text everything that was on her heart.

But he never wrote her back even though she sent him hundreds of messages: ones about her daily life, what she was doing, reading or listening to.

She send him Christmas and birthday wishes, asked about his health, how he was doing at school, but never got any response from him.

Many times she thought about calling him, but she still kept the card he had left her, which said under his number:

CALL ONLY IN A LIFE-THREATENING EMERGENCY.

She was afraid that if she called him saying that she simply missed him, she would anger him even more. Her parents no longer spent Christmas with his family, and after her father was shot dead, presumably for trying to escape the mafia life, she completely broke down.

Her mother decided to send her to therapy when she started high school.

She remembered clearly the smell of that clinic and the doctor who sat in front of her: a middle-aged man with round glasses on his nose, his voice calm and quiet, full of patience and understanding.

All around them were plants in pots and it made her feel a little cosier.

"Tell me about the friend you mentioned to me on your last visit." He started and she pressed her lips together, feeling cold sweat on her back and discomfort in her chest.

She was afraid to tell him what they had done, who he was.

She was afraid of his appraising gaze, of the fact that he would think she was disgusting.

"He was… my uncle."

The doctor corrected his glasses on his nose, intrigued and concerned at the same time.

"How old was he then?"

"He's two years older than me."

"Oh. I see." The man smiled, as if with a kind of relief that surprised her. She grunted quietly, twisting in her seat.

"He really is my uncle. My mother's brother from the second marriage."

"I understand, however, your age has surely made you treat each other more like cousins. Am I wrong?" He asked, and she shook her head.

"No."

"You said that when your brother took your lamp, he let you sleep in his bed. Something happened then?" He continued and she shook her head, horrified at what he might have implied.

"N-no. I… we just slept next to each other. Sometimes I'd cuddle up to his arm or his back when I was scared. It made him angry that I was coming to him, but he felt sorry for me."

The man nodded in understanding and smiled.

"You felt safe with him."

"Yes." She confessed with shame, looking down at her hands, feeling her heart in her throat.

"Are you two still friends? Are you two supportive of each other?"

She pressed her lips together, feeling tears burning under her eyelids, unable to get the words out for a moment.

She couldn't even look him in the eye.

"No."

"Why? What happened?"

"He lost his eye because of my brother."

"Does he blame you for that?"

"No…I mean. God." She muttered, burying her face in her hands, feeling like she was about to vomit or pass out.

This had been weighing on her heart for too long.

She needed to confide in someone.

"He, during that holiday… he asked if I would become his girlfriend. We kissed. Fuck! I didn't know about it, neither of us knew we shouldn't do it! That it was wrong, that we were too closely related." She exhaled with difficulty, finally bursting out crying, feeling hot, overpowering shame flowing in waves through her body.

The doctor raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"How long were you two together?" He asked.

She wiped her red cheeks with her palm, trying to calm and focus.

"A few days. Maybe a week."

"Why did you stop being together?"

"Because he broke up with me. He told me we couldn't be together." She mumbled, feeling like a complete idiot. "It wasn't until later that I realised what he'd found out, what incest was and what we'd done."

"There is a seeker nature in children. They watch adults and want to behave like them. Until their parents introduce them to the rules of the world it seems to them that the world doesn't have them. Even more so when it comes to social norms. Neither you nor your friend knew at the time that such relationships were not universally accepted. Up to that point you were family to each other, but also girlfriend and boyfriend. Looking at a child's decisions from an adult's perspective is ineffective."

He explained, making her, for some reason, feel better. She looked at him and shook her head.

"It's just… he was close to me. He was a good looking boy. He was kind to me. I felt safe with him. He didn't want to take advantage of me, I know that."

"So why are you creating a situation in your mind that what you did was the result of your premeditation when neither of you knew then what you know now?"

He asked, and she remained silent, not knowing what to answer him.

"It's just… ever since then I've felt a constant, heavy, overwhelming shame, crushing me like a stone." She muttered without strength, feeling that she had probably expressed the core of her feelings in this.

The man nodded at her words.

"It's natural. Shame accompanies us as a regulator of decency in our lives. I once read about a theory that God, when he banished Adam and Eve from paradise, did not make them bare: they were like that, they just realised their nakedness, and original sin made them feel shame for the first time. It is shame and fear of punishment that make us not walk naked in the street, that we guard our intimacy."

On the bus ride home, she reflected deeply on his words, feeling as if she had awoken, as if her senses had sharpened, allowing her to see the world again as it was.

She realised that all her life she had been punishing herself for feeling something for him and that it felt good, even though some part of her was telling her that she should be disgusted with herself.

She decided to forgive herself.

She felt much better and even started dating, trying to forget what had happened, to create a relationship that wasn't stigmatised.

Although she was smiling, she resented herself for looking at those boys, hearing the sound of the sea in the back of her head, his voice coming to her as if from afar.

I'm afraid of monsters too.

Everything changed when one day she received a message that made her heart stop.

She had no idea what she should be thinking: only a year after her father's death, her mother had begun dating Daemon, who had at first frightened her, and although Rhaenyra had said she wanted to end with the mafia half-world, the man she had married shortly afterwards had drawn them even deeper into it.

Daemon was an unpredictable and dangerous man, but loyal to his principles, his family and above all – her mother.

In some strange way, incomprehensible to her, they truly loved each other.

What she appreciated about his character was that he gave her and her brothers a choice: he said he did not intend to condemn them to sink into his world, but if they chose to go their own way, they were to devote themselves to study and education.

She and Luke chose to study, but Jace, to her and her mother's despair, wanted to be like him.

They eventually moved into his large house on the outskirts of the city together with his daughters from his first marriage – at first it was quite strange and awkward, even more so when they ate all together, but then Baela and Rhaena opened up to her, becoming, in her eyes, part of her family.

Daemon could sense when she was lying: he would then look at her with furrowed brows and say that he wanted to talk to her in private, which always made her heart pound like crazy with fear.

She was genuinely scared of him.

"I know you're hiding something inside. I can feel it and I don't like the fact that you're not being honest with me." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette, standing with her in the garden.

She lowered her gaze, pale, not knowing what to answer him.

"I won't play your father, but I can see that you are lost. You isolate yourself, you rarely see your friends, you're still studying. You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it and you'll regret it one day."

She couldn't describe how much his words hurt her.

They hurt her because he saw right through her and described her life in a few simple words.

You're trying to wait out your youth instead of living it.

It sounded better than the thought that she had no desire to live at all.

She felt that something had been missing inside her since that holiday, some part of her heart had been ripped out and thrown into the sea, and she felt defective, her interior filled with an emptiness.

Despite being surrounded by many people, she was lonely.

For a long time she wondered what to make of the message she had received: its tone made it seem as if there was something she and her siblings had not been told about her father's death.

She feared it was some sort of mafia hijacking, a trap for Daemon and one of her brothers – she decided she would tell Baela where she was going so that if she didn't return someone would start looking for her.

"Heavenly Beach? It's a dangerous place. I'll go with you." She said, concerned.

"No. I was supposed to come alone. It's just… if I'm not back by three o'clock wake up Daemon and tell him where I am."

"Do you have your pocket knife?"

"Yes."

She told Daemon and her mother that she was going to a friend's for a sleepover: the frustrated look on her stepfather's face told her that he didn't believe her, but apparently even he, knowing her nature, didn't suspect what she wanted to do.

Heavenly Beach belonged to his rival.

To her father's brother, Larys Strong.

She arrived by taxi, surprised at how large crowds stood waiting to enter the club. She wondered if she should wait in line with them, but after a while her phone vibrated and she got another message from an unknown number.

So she did, and the broad, bulky man told her to open her backpack and show him what she had inside.

She thanked God that she had hidden her pocket knife in her bra.

The man nodded for her to follow him and together they went down the stairs to the underground consisting of several large rooms in which music was booming, the flashing coloured lights around her made her feel as if she had gone blind. She swallowed hard, spotting her uncle in one of the VIP boxes.

Larys Strong had indeed greeted her with a bouquet of roses.

The thought that he was the one she would be talking to reassured her, and that was her mistake.

"I'm very glad you came. Sit down, please." He said softly, his smile warm and welcoming while his hand pointed to the other side of the couch, a safe distance away. She smiled too and sat down where he indicated to her, sighing in relief.

"Forgive me for only contacting you now, but this matter keeps me awake. I know you are the most cautious of your siblings, which is why I preferred not to take the risk and invite your brothers. I fear they would take it badly and it could lead to some…complications." He said, making her feel an unpleasant squeeze in her stomach.

"What do you mean?"

"I'll get to that in a moment. But first, let's order something to drink. Would you like a vodka and coke?" He asked, and she shook her head quickly.

"No, thank you, I don't want anything." She muttered.

Larys nodded at a man standing nearby, who approached him after a moment.

"Ned, get me a whisky and a glass of water for this young lady." He said calmly. The man nodded and disappeared after a moment, heading towards the large bar behind her.

"Back on topic: I am in a very difficult situation. Unfortunately, the person who was involved in his death is also a close associate of mine, which makes everything very complicated. However, I believe that my brother deserves for at least one of his children to know the truth." He said, getting serious suddenly, and she listened to him in suspense, horrified.

"Otto Hightower ordered his murder. Harwin was still snooping around, looking for hooks on them, even thinking of co-operating with the police."

She stared at him dully, feeling a complete void in her mind.

Otto Hightower had ordered his murder.

What?

As the man placed a glass of water in front of her and a whisky in front of her uncle her mind was in a state of complete panic. It made her forget what Daemon and her father had always told her.

Never drink anything that has not been poured into a glass in your presence.

"Easy. I know this is difficult for you. You have to be careful with these people, they are dangerous. Drink some water, it will help." He said, and for some reason she listened to him, grabbing the glass, taking a few deep sips from it, feeling that she was trembling all over from nerves.

Viserys's associate was her father's murderer.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" She muttered, closing her eyes for a moment, feeling strange, as if her head was spinning.

"You have to be careful. Anyone who enters this world once will never leave it again. Don't try to cooperate with the police." He replied with a smile, his tone slightly changed, as if what he saw before him and her reaction pleased him.

It seemed to her that the music around her had begun to quiet, as if it was coming from far away, she tried to focus her thoughts but was unable to.

The cold sweat of terror and fear ran down her neck as she realised what had happened.

What she had done.

"I'm sorry, I feel sick from what I heard. I'm going to go… to the toilet." She muttered, getting up from her seat with difficulty and walked ahead towards the sign she could see from afar.

She was dizzy as if she had drunk ten shots, the burning tears of despair making her barely see where she was going.

The light in the bathroom almost blinded her – she locked herself in one of the cabins and slumped to her knees, breathing heavily, pulling her phone out of her backpack, thinking with horror that if she called Daemon and Jace and they raised hell in here, they might shoot them.

She needed to call someone they wouldn't hurt and then it dawned on her.

Aemond.

Call only in a life-threatening emergency.

The screen of her phone seemed blurry to her as she struggled to type in her code and began searching for his number in her contacts. When she finally saw his name she clicked on it and put the phone to her ear, leaning her head against the wall, feeling the cold tiles under her buttocks, the female voices coming from behind the door seemed to her to be just a dream.

"– please – please, please, please –" She muttered, hearing that there was a signal, that he hadn't thrown or blocked that card.

She swallowed hard when the sound silenced and she heard a noise on the other side.

"– Aemond? –" She mumbled in a trembling voice feeling tears of terror, helplessness and fear run down her face, her body numb and heavy.

"– what is it? –" She heard his voice, cold and matter-of-fact, and although he sounded very different from when they were children, a wave of heat and a familiar, pleasant sensation she hadn't felt in years ran through her body.

"– G-God – they must have – they must have put something into my drink –" She cried out, bursting into sobs, thinking about the fact that she was about to lose consciousness and they would do whatever they wanted to her and her body.

Daemon warned her.

Never lie to me.

"– what? – fuck – where are you? –" She heard his voice as if in the distance.

She furrowed her brow, forgetting for a moment who she was talking to, where she was, and what she wanted to do.

"– Rhaenys – focus – fucking speak to me –"

"– I – mmm – I don't know – I think... – ...I think I'm in the toilet –" She muttered finally, looking around her thinking that indeed, this room looked like a toilet.

She felt that she was very tired and just wanted to sleep.

"– in what toilet? – in the club? –" He asked further, his voice sounding as if he was furious.

She closed her eyes, muttering something under her breath, feeling her mind drifting away and remembered that she had seen palm trees before entering this place.

"– yes – in the... – ...club – like... – ...one... – ...with palm trees –" She muttered, and then her mind enveloped in complete darkness.

She thought she felt the touch of someone's hand, heard someone's voice, but she wasn't sure if it was a dream or reality.

When she woke up, she was blinded by the light – she hissed and covered her face, only realising after a moment that she was lying in her bed, in Daemon's house. When she turned her face she saw her stepfather sitting in a chair, looking at her with eyes she knew well.

He was furious.

"I asked you. I thought you were a smarter girl, but you are clearly just a plain, naive idiot." He hissed, as usual saying exactly what he was thinking.

She pressed her lips together, feeling pain in her heart at his words, realising that she had a huge black hole in her memory.

"What happened?"

"You called Aemond. They could have raped you there, and instead of calling me you called the person who could have helped them." He scoffed, raising his voice, annoyed.

"He was here?"

"And how do you think you got here? That you were brought here by a fairy?" He sneered, and she swallowed hard, looking at him with wide eyes.

Even though she should have felt horror at what had happened to her, all she could think about was feeling his hand, hearing his voice.

And then she remembered.

His voice.

His words.

You don't even know how many real monsters lurk in its shadows.

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

I Want It All: Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Asexual!Reader, Astarion x Bard!Reader

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Astarion, Allusion to Astarion's Past (Sexual Assult/Dissociation)

Summary: You and Astarion had been playing this little game of yours for a while; he pretends to care, you pretend not to fall for it. It’s easy, even fun at times. The trouble is, what happens the moment you can’t pretend anymore?

A/N: Holy shit! It's done! Thank you so much to everyone who has commented and reblogged and just...everything. I cannot tell you how much it means to be to know this story has resonated with so many people. I don't have any plans to continue this as a larger story (I still haven't played the game); however, if anyone would like to send requests for small one-shots or headcanons involving Astarion and this Asexual!Tav, feel free to send me an ask.

Also, sorry if I didn't tag you. There were a lot of request, so I stuck to those who asked on the previous chapter.

And as always REBLOG AND COMMENT IF YOU LIKE THIS! I NEED VALIDATION TO SURVIVE!!!

Word Count: 5.2K

You didn’t sleep that night, but what else did you expect?

For hours you simply lay in the dark, staring at the window. The patter of rain was the only source of sound besides your own breathing. Even that small comfort didn’t last as the storm passed leaving behind cloud covered silence.

No tears came to you.  What had you to grieve over? Everything you felt had been a product of your imagination. You knew that.

Still, it ached.  There was a throbbing in your throat you couldn’t swallow down and a constant pressure behind your eyes.  You almost wished you would cry, just to get it out of your system. If you could have a nice little breakdown, there was a chance you could get over this. It would be the slap in the face you needed to accept reality. Maybe then you’d stop doing this to yourself.

All the same, it stayed there, pressing heavy on your chest until the sun teased the edges of the clouds beaconing morning.

You groaned, burying your face into the pillow. You couldn’t lie and wallow the rest of the day. You had things to do, places to be, worms to destroy. The sooner you had something else to occupy your thoughts the better.

With an effort you pulled yourself out of bed and slowly made your way to the dining room.

You were a bit surprised to see everybody already up. Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, Shadowheart, and Gale were already seated with plates of half eaten food in front of them.  Two seats were still empty, settings ready and untouched. A quick look around confirmed the rest, Astarion had yet to make an appearance.

“Morning everyone,” you said, trying your best to be cheerful as you sat yourself between Gale and Wyll.  

You could feel all their eyes on you, no doubt noticing the dark circles under yours.

“Morning,” Gale greeted. “I trust you slept well.”

He let out a small yelp of pain.

You looked up to catch him glaring at Shadowheart as she shot him a disapproving look.

You frowned. Did she just kick him?

“I mean, ah, did you lie comfortably?” he amended.

“Seriously?” Karlach questioned.

You swore you could feel the heat of Gale’s blush, as he grumbled into his toast. “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

“Do I?” you asked.

“We just hoped you spent the rest of the night…pleasantly,” Wyll tried, and ultimately failed.

Your stomach flipped, as harsh, dreadful realization washed over you.  Yes, of course they would.

“You don’t look well,” Lae’zel noted. “After all his boasting, I had thought Astarion would leave his partners more satisfied.”

You didn’t say anything, deciding to take a bite of egg as an excuse. Now would be a great time for the ground to open and swallow you into the hells. Gods knew it would be an improvement.

“She’s right,” Shadowheart said, sounding a little annoyed to admit it. “You do look tired and not the good kind. Did something happen?”

“Did he hurt you,” Wyll said, his brow furrowing in sudden concern.

“What?! No!” you said quickly. “Nothing happened.”

“How’d you mean nothing happened?” Karlach put in. “We all saw what we saw. How could anyone turn down all of that?”

Fresh embarrassment washed over you, making you wish you could erase the last twenty-four hours and crawl into the nearest, deepest hole. You had spent the whole night worried about what Astarion would make of your vision, you had all but forgotten you had shared that part of yourself with all of your companions. Of course they would have their own interpretations.

“It wasn’t like that.”

A quick look around the table gave away the doubtful thoughts of all.  

You took a deep breath, willing yourself to calm. They weren’t going to believe you if you were emotional about this.

“Look, I appreciate your concern, but I’m fine. As I said, nothing happened. We talked, and it became clear that we just want different things. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Now are we done or are you all going to keep chattering on like a bunch of fishwives?”

The silence at the table was palpable as everyone exchanged looks.

Alright, maybe being calm wasn't a realistic expectation, but you hadn’t lied. Sure, there were some details you neglected to share, but that really was the long and the short of it. He hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had you. It just didn’t work out.

The plain truth of it settled in your heart carving out a hollow space for it to lay in.

Gale was the first to act, clearing his throat. “Fair enough, the matter is closed. Please, accept our apology. With such an intimate group as ours, it’s sometimes easy to forget that one’s personal matters can be well and truly personal.”

He looked at the rest of the group, each nodding in agreement to various degrees of reluctancy.

“Just for the record though, if you need someone to knock some sense into that pretty boy’s head, you just need to ask,” Karlach offered. 

Despite yourself, you had to smile. “I’ll think about it.”

You then turned to Gale, who met you with kind eyes and a comforting smile. You let yourself be warmed by it, even if you still felt a little guilty for snapping. He really did understand. It was easy for heartbreak to recognize heartbreak.

“Thank you,” you murmured. 

To your surprise, his first instinct wasn’t to reach for words, but rather your hand as he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. 

“Anytime.” 

“Good morning everyone. Gossiping without me?”

You whipped your head around to find Astarion standing near the head of the table, a sardonic smile on his lips and a hard glare in his eyes.  No doubt he had heard everything. 

Everybody shifted in their seats, glancing between you and Astarion. You averted your gaze, focusing hard on the table in front of you. 

Gale’s hand still rested over yours. Whatever comfort it had given you, faded as something akin to panic flooded your veins. In the next second, you rose from your chair, scraping it hard against the floor in your hurry. 

“I’ve still got some packing to do,” you said. “Be back down in a few.” 

Coward’s way out? Yes, but after the night you had, you figured you were entitled to it. 

Keeping your head down, you slipped past Astarion, feeling him watch you as you made your way back up the stairs. 

If you had lingered a moment, you might have caught the flash of hurt in his eyes. You might have noticed how his clothes were more rumpled than usual. You might even have seen his hand twitch with the instinct to reach for yours. But you didn’t see, and anything that might have happened disappeared in a brush of air. 

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

The next several days carried on in much the same way.  Not as torturous as that first morning, but still a drudge of avoidance and awkward silences. 

In your defense, Astarion seemed just as keen to keep his distance. Where he used to be your preverbal shadow, filling the hours of travel with idle teasing and conversation, now he kept to the back, his mouth decidedly shut. 

The others caught on and seemed determined to make up the difference. Karlach, Shadowheart and Wyll especially made a point to walk alongside you, telling stories and jokes in an attempt to make you smile. 

You did your best. They meant well, but in some ways they only served to emphasize the absence of another. 

Gale, on the other hand, had the foresight to try a different approach. He made it clear he didn’t expect you to talk, but always made sure you had the best spot by the fire and a little extra of whatever he made for the camp. You had to wonder if Tara had provided a similar comfort to him after Mystra. It was obvious he had the practice. 

Even Lae’zel offered to help you train it off, something about how your, “objectively weak body had left the rest of you vulnerable to attack”. A part of you felt the insult, but the gesture was appreciated. 

Honestly, all of this care was starting to make you feel guilty. None of them were giving Astarion the same courtesy. He wasn’t being shunted exactly, but the message was loud and clear; they were on your side. 

This was met by him taking a step back from the late night conversations. His interactions with the others were kept short and lacked his usual humorous flare. He took his shifts on watch alone and he spent even more time either roaming the forest or in his tent. 

The only person he consistently spoke to was Gale, which should have raised some alarm bells on their own, but you never caught what they were discussing. All you knew was Astarion never appeared especially pleased while Gale gave a look of someone begging the gods for patience. 

All of this was your fault. You just wanted things to go back to normal. Even if you couldn’t be with Astarion the way you imagined, you still valued his friendship.  If this kept up, there was a chance he might decide to leave all together. An olive branch was needed, something to signal you didn’t hold a grudge or expect anything more. 

The answer came to you one early evening as you took note of his haggard looks and less than graceful steps out of camp.  He hadn’t fed on you in a week and there was only so much deer and boar could do. 

You considered simply offering up your neck, but that felt too forward. Besides, you weren’t sure if you were ready to have him that close. The only other solution you could think of was to bleed yourself somehow. 

This proved more difficult than you first imagined. Astarion seemed to have an instinct for where to bite, balancing enough blood for himself without causing any permanent damage. You couldn’t boast the same. It took more than one cut to fill an empty goblet with what you hoped to be the right amount of blood. You’d ask Shadowheart to heal you properly later. Hopefully she’d accept a poorly executed knife trick as an excuse. 

You wrapped your wrist as best you could and, watching to make sure the others weren’t looking, slipped into Astarion’s tent. 

You were immediately hit with the scent of bergamot, rosemary, and aged brandy. A sense of calm washed over you at the familiar combination, settling comfortably in your lungs as you took in the space.

 A single candle remained lit, allowing just enough light for you to appreciate the rich purple and red fabrics lining the walls as well as the sheer number of pillows littering the floor. How he managed to pack so many was a mystery you doubt you would ever solve. The whole set up was down right ornate, but considering this was Astarion you were talking about, you shouldn’t have been surprised. 

It was only then you realized you’d never been inside before. He’d invited you more than once, but you’d always turned him down preferring to keep your feeding session in the open air. You had known, even then, any closer would give the wrong impression; all for naught it seemed.

You pushed the thought aside, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be some place you could put the goblet where he wouldn’t knock it over. Why did he have to keep a side table outside the tent?

A shuffle came from just outside. Focusing your ears, you caught the tread of boots on grass transition to the nearly silent carpet just outside the tent flap. You turned using those handful of extra seconds to school your features into something passively innocent as Astarion ducked inside.

His whole body froze, his arm holding the fabric above his head as his eyes went wide. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. 

You took advantage of his momentary shock to examine his appearance more closely. He looked…well, tired and more than a little confused. No blood marked his shirt or his lips. His pants appeared to have taken a tear or two from a bramble bush. Even his hair looked just a bit disheveled in a way so unlike himself.  

“No luck hunting?” you said, unable to keep the concern out of your voice. 

He stared, as if your words were coming from somewhere far away and required extra time to reach his ears.

“I’ve had better,” he finally said. 

You nodded in understanding, shifting awkwardly as your eyes went to the goblet in your hands. 

“Here,” you offered. “No offense, but you look like you could use it.”

He gave a tight smile. “I’d say no offense taken, but this is me we’re talking about.” All the same, he took the cup, sniffing it cautiously. He blinked hard, his brows furrowing as he stuck his nose further into the cup and took a deep whiff. 

“Is this yours?” he asked. 

You shrugged, holding up your bandaged wrist. “Whose else would it be?”

His mouth parted slightly as if to say something before closing it again. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, his tone oddly serious. 

“I know,” you assured. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Once again, he opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead released a breath of a laugh, allowing whatever tension he had formed in those last few seconds to fall from his shoulders. 

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but it seems I can’t help it with you.” 

Before you could ask him what exactly he meant, he raised the goblet to his lips and drank. 

The effect was instantaneous. Your blood met his tongue and any control he had slipped away. His pupils dilated to those of a predator as he guzzled the whole thing down in two deep swallows. He let out a gasp of air before returning to the cup, licking the sides so not to waste a drop. A low hum of bliss came from deep in his chest as he savored the rest, allowing his fingers to scrap the bottom before bringing it back to his mouth. 

The sight should have left you horrified, but in truth, it was encouraging. Things would be different, but you could at least provide him this. 

“Do you need more?” you asked. 

This time his laugh was loud and genuine as he wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before licking the remains; yet another thing you found inexplicably endearing. He really was just a big cat sometimes. 

“Dangerous thing to offer me in this state, darling,” he said. “Luckily for you, I found a nice burrow of rabbits yesterday.” 

Once satisfied there was truly nothing left, he set the goblet down on the ground before turning his attention to your wrist. 

“Let me see,” he said, reaching out a hand. 

“It’s fine,” you promised. “I’ll get Shadowheart to look at it later.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that, give it here.”

Knowing there was no fighting him, you relented, allowing him to unwrap the bandages.  

He visibly winced as he examined the litter of harsh scratches along your skin. “What did you use? A rusty spoon?” 

“I had trouble finding a good vein,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. You hadn’t thought it looked that bad. 

“Oh is that all? And here I thought you’d lost an argument with a displacer beast.” 

You pressed your lips into an annoyed line, but Astarion was already digging around his pack, coming back with a salve and potion of healing.  

“Drink this.”

You shook your head, ignoring the pleasant little flutter in your chest at the gesture. “I told you, I’ll just ask Shadowheart.”

“Oh this isn’t just for you,” he said, dryly. “Do you think I want her believing you’d willingly butcher yourself just to give me a proper meal? Neither of us would hear the end of it.” 

A small flush of embarrassment worked up your neck. He was right, of course. The party really hadn’t been subtle in their disapproval. It was the reason you had tried for discretion. 

Without further protest you accepted the potion. 

This seemed to appease him as he quickly got to work on applying the salve. 

He had bought it not long after you had come to your little feeding arrangement. It helped to sooth small cuts and bruises while minimizing the threat of scars. He had initially offered to provide…other services to relieve the pain, but you had declined. This was the compromise. You’d offered to do it yourself, but he insisted, claiming it was the least he could do. In truth, it was all very…transactional. 

This felt different. The hesitation he so often held, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, was gone. His touch was gentle, his expression focused and his body oddly relaxed. It didn’t feel like an obligation, but an act of kindness, one he was more than willing to give. 

Any nerves that remained slipped away.  You could find a way to live with this. Certainly it was more than others had given you in the past. 

Once he was done, he pulled fresh bandages from his bag and began redressing your wounds with decidedly more precision than you had. 

“I am glad you’re here,” he said, breaking the silence. “I was hoping we could talk.”

A sharp sting of anxiety pressed itself into your skin. 

“Oh?” 

He nodded, tying off the bandage. “I think it’s important.”

You swallowed. The instinct to run pulled at your feet, but you managed to keep it in check. You owed him that much. 

“Well, I’m here so…let’s talk.”

He breathed out an audible sigh of relief, raising his hands up as he took a small step back.

“Just stand there a moment. Don’t move.”

He spun around, rummaging through various bags before letting out a cry of triumph. He stepped back holding what looked to be a violin string glowing with magical golden light. 

Your head tilted to the side as your eyes narrowed. “Is that…?”

“Part of the violin, yes,” he admitted. “Bit of a story. Short version, Gale was able to extract one of the strings. It shouldn’t cause any permanent damage to the instrument, as far as I know.” 

You raised a doubtful eyebrow. “And Gale just let you pluck this from his tent did he?”

Astarion shifted uncomfortably. “Not exactly. I, ah, may have had some trouble understanding how it worked and…inquired as to his assistance.”

“You asked Gale for help?” you asked, astonished.

“Don’t make me relive the experience,” he lamented. “He told me the strings themselves have different magical properties in order to create the effect you demonstrated the other night. Apparently this one alone compels people to tell the truth.” 

He then took the string and carefully wrapped it around his wrist before handing the other half to you. 

Your eyes widened, glancing between him and the offered cord. “What are you doing?”

“Leveling the playing field,” he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

You shook your head, taking a step back. “You don’t have to do that.”

His lips curved into a self deprecating smile. “I think I do though. I haven’t been honest with you and…while that’s not exactly unique to you, the regret I have is. So you see, it really is a selfish action. If I’m to be free of this, I need to know for certain you understand that what I say next is the truth…all of it.” 

Your mouth opened to protest, but the words caught in your throat. The expression on his face was one you had never seen before. While he did his best to hide under his usual indifferent airs, his eyes gave him away. You’d never seen them so open and unsure. 

Slowly, you took the other end, feeling a familiar tingle spread through your fingers. 

“Alright,” you said, cautiously. “What’s your favorite color?”

Flashes of red shot across your vision, moonlit skies and a pair of eyes you only just caught to be your own before the image settled on something else entirely.

“Pink,” Astarion blurted.

Your eyebrows shot up as the start of a delighted smile spread across your face.

 “And orange,” he amended quickly, “and dark blue and…honestly just the color of the sky at sunrise.” He pouted as if annoyed at the words that escaped his lips, but he shook it off. “Alright, you had your little test run. Give me something harder.” 

You considered a moment. It was very tempting to continue on with some more embarrassing questions, but that wasn’t the purpose of all of this. Best to start at the beginning. 

“What did you think of me when we first met?” you asked.

He grimaced, guilt evident not just through his averted gaze but the tug of the string between you. “You were a target,” he admitted. “At best a convenient meat shield. You were just so…open, ready to trust. Manipulating you would be easy.”

You took a deep breath, ignoring the stab of pain between your ribs. You should have expected as much. He wasn’t exactly subtle. 

“And that’s what you were trying to do the other night, manipulate me?”

“Yes.”

Another stab of guilt, a flash of your own back walking out of a candle lit room as a hand that was not your own reached hopelessly outward. 

Your actual jaw clenched. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

“Then what?!” you snapped. “Hells bells Astarion, do you even like me?”

“You drive me to acts of insanity,” he said indignantly, raising up the glowing cord around his wrist as proof. “Do you think I’d willing subject myself to days of Gale’s passive aggressive commentary on my personal life for just anyone? Of course I like you. Gods below!”

You stared, unable to deny the waves of exasperation mixed with the sound of your own laughter as heard through another’s ears. Something warm and unfamiliar bloomed in the chest of the body opposite you making your mind spin, as you tried to re-establish the divide. 

“Why did you ask me to come to you?” you asked. “What were you hoping to gain?”

Astarion took a deep breath. It was only then you noticed how tightly he was holding the chord linking you.

“I was hoping to get back on track,” he said, slowly. “I had a plan when we met. A nice simple plan. Seduce you, bed you, manipulate your emotions so you’d never turn on me. It was easy…instinctive.” 

He met your eyes and for the first time, you felt him fight against the images threatening to breach the gap between you. You caught the barest flashes, memories of half forgotten faces passing by one after another. Shame and vile brushed the edges of your mind, and quickly faded as Astarion regained control. 

“But, you seemed immune to my attempts,” he continued. “I could tell you enjoyed my attentions, but you never asked for more. My simple plan that had worked on countless targets, couldn’t get off the ground. And yet, you still gave me blood, protection…trust. I couldn’t understand it. I found myself wanting to know more, to know you. To anticipate what you would ultimately ask in exchange. And then that night, you showed me exactly what it was you desired.”

Something slipped through. You saw yourself in the center of the tavern with darkness surrounding you. A rise of fear entered your heart as you heard your name called from familiar lips. And then, the world shifted, light came back into the world and it was…beautiful. 

“I thought I finally understood you,” he said. “A poor repressed urchin who had been hurt one too many times. All that was required was a more gentle touch. I could provide that. It wouldn’t be the first time.” 

He paused, his expression softening. “And then you had to do the most inconsiderate thing and surprise me all over again: you asked for my heart, in exchange for yours. I should have been elated. It meant my plan had worked, not the way I intended, but you had fallen for it…for me. The trouble was, I hadn’t accounted for the possibility that I would fall for you.”

You stared, unable to say anything as a well of emotion threatened to burst from you. It was as if someone pulled a bow across your chest, creating a resonating sound that moved in harmony with your very soul. 

It was true, all of it. 

By some miracle, you wrestled back control over your lungs and tongue. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I didn’t know how,” he admitted. “Even if I had, would you have believed me?”

You averted your gaze. It was answer enough. 

“It’s alright,” he said, offering a wry smile. “Smart really. I wouldn’t have believed me either.” 

You nodded in appreciation, your mind still reeling from everything he had just confessed. 

“What are you thinking?” he asked. 

You frowned, unable to shake a question that had been stirring for some time. 

“Do you even want to have sex with me?”

His eyebrows shot into his hairline, his mouth falling open. “I’m standing here baring my soul to you and that’s what you ask?”

“You asked me what I was thinking,” you defended. “Besides, it’s a relevant question.” 

He looked like he wanted to argue, but let it go just as quickly with a huff. 

“Well?” you prompted. 

He made a series of non-commital noises, his mouth half forming words before being wrenched in another direction. The chord between you glowed brighter, twisting just a little deeper into his skin.

“I…don’t really know,” he said, slightly stilted, as if surprised by his own answer. “To be clear, I do find you physically enticing. In that aspect at least, I’d hardly qualify bedding you a chore, but... I spent two centuries using lust and desire to lure people back to him. In that time I developed the habit of taking myself out of my body, looking at it as if it were happening to somebody else.  Even in those rare times it could be pleasurable, I still walked away feeling nothing but disgust and loathing. I don’t want those feelings associated with you. At the same time, I can’t help thinking that if we were together, it would be different. But, don’t take that to mean I expect it. Like I said, I don’t even know if I want it. Honestly, before you said it, I didn’t know saying no was an option.”

You took all of that in, your heart clenching as the full weight of what Cazador did to him settled on your mind.  Red filed your vision, the sympathetic ache replaced with a rush of fury.  He was a dead man. One way or another, you would see Cazador bloodied by the end of all of this. But as quickly as it had come you let the emotion pass. This wasn’t about him.  You wouldn’t let him intrude any more on this moment. 

“What do you want from me then?” you asked, softly. 

To your relief, something familiar and teasing flashed across his face. 

“I thought I’d made that obvious.”

With his free hand, he cupped your cheek allowing his thumb to lightly caress your skin. His scarlet eyes burned not with lust, but something warmer and just as desperate. 

“You showed me the chorus of your heart. How could anyone look upon that and not desire it? The trouble is, the price you asked. I…I don’t know how to pay it. I don’t know how to be with someone that way, but I’m willing to learn. I want it all. I want you to have it all.” 

The connection between you burned hot in your hand, but you couldn’t let it go. It felt so warm, so real. It filled every empty part of you to the point of bursting and still you wanted more. You were insatiable. 

Astarion looked just as lost as you, his eyes glazed over with too many emotions for you to name. His body began to tremble. It was becoming too much. 

In an instant you pulled his hand away, unwrapping the chord from around his wrist and tossing it aside.

He took a sudden deep breath as if coming up for air after being submerged in deep water. 

“Shit,” he cursed, gulping for air. Closing his eyes, he ran a hand down his face as he tried to calm. 

Your eyes widened as you caught the angry marks left behind on his wrist. 

“Are you alright?”

He blinked hard as if clearing spots from his vision. “I’m fine. Wasn’t expecting that is all.” He turned his focus to you with a bewildered expression. “Does it always feel like that?”

“That’s admittedly a first for me,” you confessed. You reached out your hand, glancing at his injury. “Let me see.”

He followed your gaze frowning, as if surprised to note the welts forming on his wrist. Still he stepped closer allowing you to examine them without protest. 

“Does it hurt?” you asked. 

He shook his head. “Sort of numb, honestly, tingly.”

You nodded, swallowing hard to keep the rise of guilt and fear at bay. It didn’t help. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, quickly. 

He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. “Don’t think a little thing like this is going to scare me off. I meant what I said. I intend to give you your fill.”

“You don’t have to give it all at once,” you promised. “I can be patient when it counts.” 

A sly smile turned at his lips. “I almost hope you won’t. You’re not the only one who's starving.”

Heat spread up your neck, something Astarion undoubtedly caught as he gave a low laugh. 

“Well, now that we’ve cleared the air, what happens next?” he asked. 

“I’m…not sure,” you admitted. “Nobody else has ever given me the chance to figure that out.” 

He nodded slowly, before taking a small step back. His head tilted as if to examine you from every angle. A question started to form on your tongue just as the start of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly straightened before placing a hand on his chest and regarded you with a deep bow. 

You grinned, matching him with a curtsy of your own. 

He then offered his hand, which you easily took before he pulled you just a little closer. Your other hand found his shoulder while his pressed lightly on your waist. And then you did what was only natural. You danced. 

It wasn’t anything elaborate. There was no fire or sparks of magic. You simply moved together to a song of your own imagination. It stirred in your chest, the barest pluck of a melody, but it was yours and his; the promise of a symphony to come.

Tag List:

@ambrolyer, @cassiecasluciluce, @tamwritesstuff, @hallowedandhungry, @mangomonk, @amefuyuu, @righteous-scamp, @starved-kitten, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @twinkliker3000, @unrestrictedbyreality, @screechingphantommaker, @becksynthetic, @black-sapphic, @dicenete, @isharaneith, @sarcasticlittlebook, @catsandskyrimcafe, @sora-o-kaku, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ka-du-trur, @baldursgateslittlestar, @rakilein

[l0v3tast3]

do you think we could get the 141 bois with a military!reader who had a guard/attack dog with them, and went out on missions with reader, and the dog got KIA’d, and reader is taking it harshly, because they grew attached to said dog?

My dog recently passed away and I kinda just.. need some 141 bois.

🥃-

✎ i'm so sorry to hear that honey :( losing an animal is a horrible pain and i hope you're doing okay!!

✎ tags : gender neutral!reader, angst but i tried to keep it vague, otherwise pretty much just platonic fluff, not proofread

♡ to put it mildly, the 141 guys thought you were a bit weird when you first joined, along with your dog. you spent more time with the animal than you did with humans, training, doting, just generally being in the same space.

♡ eventually the team came to understand your bond together, and who doesn't love dogs? while it was always yours, it also kind of became the team's dog.

♡ so when price had to haul you over his shoulder while you screamed at him to let you go, to let you back in that ruined building, they all felt it. they felt it the entire way back to base, the absence of the waging tail and you cooing at it on the entire helicopter ride back.

♡ you try to pretend like you're doing okay for a couple of days afterward. brief smiles that didn't fit right on your sunken face, exchanging polite greetings that sounded so dull. they walk on eggshells, always unsure of what to say to help you.

♡ they wait for you to break, and when you finally do, they send kyle in first. they figure he has the best shot of conveying their empathy to you (he's just as awkward as the rest of them, he just volunteered himself to try to help you first because they were all just staring at each other when soap brought it up).

♡ he brings you a case of bottles of your favorite drink and snacks, dropping them on your desk before sitting next to you on your bed. he asks you faintly if you want to talk about it.

♡ he lets you get it out, lets you cry and rant and whatever you need in that moment while he sits with you. when your tears finally run dry and the weight in your chest doesn't feel as empty, kyle gives you a hug and rubs your back for a few moments.

♡ the other three men are waiting when he comes out, and kyle shrugs and says he thinks he helped. soap snorted and asked him "what's that mean?" and kyle explains briefly what happened.

♡ they manage to coax you out of your room the next day. ghost and price were somewhere else on the base, and kyle had taken over soap's attempt at cooking eggs (i sincerely believe soap can only cook well enough to keep himself alive while kyle is actually pretty good). they sit you down and make you eat. soap takes the credit for the eggs even though you obviously saw kyle finishing them, and it makes you laugh a bit.

♡ they drag you to sparring practice, despite your many, many protests. you find that that's where ghost and price have been. they put you up against ghost first, and you're convinced that they're trying to make you more depressed now.

♡ as soon as he's coming at you, you're in "soldier mode" again and just focus on trying not to land on your ass too hard when he throws you down. usually you're a good sport and always shake hands after the rounds, but frustration was bubbling up quick today with every time you got pinned. you found yourself putting more and more into it, until you were actually fighting, clawing, biting, doing whatever you could. ghost let you and he took it easily. it was exactly what he would have needed if he were in your position; he still didn't just let you win, though.

♡ soap doesn't really know how to help you in a big way, so he just makes sure the little things are taken care of. he helps you clean your weapons and makes sure kyle buys the right drinks for you when he sends him out even though kyle knows what to get. he sticks around you but doesn't make it seem like you're on suicide watch or anything, just that you don't have to be alone for too long. he makes sure you eat, and you always answer "yes" because you don't even want him to offer to cook for you.

♡ it takes a couple of months before you're almost back to your normal self. there's always something missing, and you still reach down to your side on instinct, but the pit in your stomach stops opening quite as wide. you learn how to remember the happy memories again.

♡ when you're ready and if you feel like it, price is the one that takes you to start looking for a new furry friend. you know everything there is to know about dogs, and he knows you know it all, but you still get lectured about what to look for and what to avoid and not to get too close in case they try to bite. basically, he just becomes your father.

♡ "not that one, 's lookin' at me funny," he'll say once you start looking at them. "that one won't even make it through the heli ride!" basically, he thinks none of the dogs here are good enough for you, even though they're all wonderful in their own ways. he almost walks away when you kneel down and start giving scratches to a pomeranian that hadn't stopped yipping since you'd walked in.

♡ while they may all be emotionally-stunted men, they know what loss is like. they'll be there for you in the ways that matter.

[smolvenger]

Hot for Teacher (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: After being private about your relationship, your professor boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, introduces you to his students.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Some thirsty comments and cursing, but no smut. Established relationship and lots of fluffy moments. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped past me. Reader not being a student and being an Adult Adult (tm). A big fancy ball because I decided not some hum drum party was gonna do. (I'm the writer, I can do what I want). I rip off YouTube comments and Ana Huang and stuff I see on Tiktok and Instagram.

A/N: For @holdmytesseract's request! I am sorry this took a while due to stuff happening, but here it is!!!

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You always visited the campus coffee shop on Mondays at 10 am to overhear students being thirsty for your boyfriend. You couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at their comments. They were leaving their English Literature Survey class. Only they weren’t discussing books.  

“Sooo nice of him to lower the word count for the essay, he knows it’s a lot.”

“Holy crap, did you see how tight his shirt was today? I could practically see his titties.”

“He needs to quote Shakespeare again. I think I’m developing a kink.”

“If I caught my girl in bed with Professor Hiddleston, I’d tuck him in.”

“If I was at the club and Professor Hiddleston was hitting on my girl, I’d start to cry…because he didn’t choose me.”

“I’m a hardcore lesbian, but Professor Hiddleston is on my cheat card.”

“I’m a hardcore asexual, but Professor Hiddleston is so hot that if I had to get pregnant I’d want him to do the honors.”

You sipped up your drink, sitting in a far corner. Smiling bright as you heard them. Stifling a laugh so hard you could feel your drink always threatened to snort out of your nose. You would cup your face, ensuring they didn’t take note of you. Even get out the notes app on your phone to type them down. Not that you’d ever show him. 

He was their hot Professor. But to you, he was just Tom.

Just Tom. A boyfriend who cared for you respected you, and listened to you. Who did the bare minimum and so much more. They didn’t know his flaws, living with each other's smells and body odors and functions and insecurities. And the little, beautiful moments that made you all the more in love with him. How you would both go to bookstores and geek out after certain works, make a mess in the kitchen trying a new recipe, or stay in your pajamas until 1 pm watching something on the TV. Did they know how loud he snored at night? Or how sensitive his neck was? Or that he was fidgety if he sat too long? 

Then one of them said “His girlfriend is one lucky ass bitch. I wonder what she’s like?”

“Oh…he hasn’t said anything about a girlfriend, do you think…he’s single?!” one asked.

They all shot up like meerkats with big smiles.

You froze, only staring quietly at your drink. 

Tom didn’t talk about you in class. Nothing. Nada. Goose eggs.  They didn't know you existed.

So far you were sure they were not little homewreckers- not successfully, at least. You trusted Tom and he trusted you and his students respected his boundaries. But he blocked them on social media so they wouldn’t dig anything about him. Tom was a private person and he wanted that to be respected by his students. 

When you both met to hang out and make dinner later that evening- his special Spaghetti bolognese recipe, he gave you a hug and kiss on your head.

“Oh, you missed a spot!” you teased.

His eyes crinkled beneath his glasses.

“Oh- uh,” he voiced out.

You dived in to kiss him on the lips, his beard scratching your chin.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Oh, just fine. Your students were…wondering about me today. I saw them at the shop.”

“They didn’t recognize you?”

“No- they don’t know what I look like. Or about me, period…we’ve kept it that way…”

Both of you got into the kitchen, rolling up your sleeves and preparing the pasta and sauce. It smelled of garlic, onion, and olive oil, making your stomach rumble. How easily smelling that in a kitchen could solve all of your problems!

He smiled at you. Then, as the pasta was set to boil in the pot, he turned to you. His sleeves rolled up (making you giddy inside) and his face was a little flushed from the heat of the steam from cooking.

“My angel, I don’t want to keep you in hiding- and you shouldn’t.”

“Tom, what do you mean?” you asked. You stirred the sauce, then tapped the spoon and set it on a jar for attempted cleanliness.

 I love you. And this is a part of my life…would you like to meet them? I promise you, they won’t hurt you. I won’t let them!” 

He went up to hug you from behind and you watched the simmering food.

You paused, taking in a breath. What were you afraid of? Were you ashamed of Tom or being with him? No, not a bit.

 You turned around to face him.

“They’re college kids. They’re basically puppies…I think I’d like to meet them.” you agreed

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

You both decided what event it should be that you would meet them. There were events called Bookish Balls that were all the rage now. It was a prom for adults. Proms where everyone dressed like fantasy characters and showed off costumes and even cosplays. It was everything from complex armor to a dress with some elf ears on. 

You knew he had a Shakespearean-era outfit from a play he did that he kept you just had to find the right look. It would be more exciting and less creepy then if you jumped on them at the mall like a pair of stalkers. 

And the ball looked like fun.

You and Tom both arrived. He was in his Shakespearean garb and crown. You had your own outfit- you adored it. You couldn’t help but look at each large mirror you walked by as you walked down the dim hallways with carpeted floors.

All the students were talking about it- tickets were 60 percent off for students. Since they were all raving about these hot new fantasy books between their required reading of Dickens. They all rattled their iced coffees like maracas and gossiped and shared pics of their outfits on their phones every day before class according to Tom. Most of them would all be there.

Little did they know their Professor was going to be there, as well as his girlfriend.

You both arrived at the fine, fancy hotel. Tom was dressed in his leather doublet and pants with a large cape and a grand crown. Ever the king. You had splurged on the fancy outfit you wanted badly- and you felt as if you were a heroine in a story as you walked through.

“You look stunning- they’re going to adore you,” Tom assured you.

You hoped so. If they met you and humiliated you in some way tonight or after, you would move to Antarctica and learn to speak penguin. 

Taking his arm and feeling like royalty, you both went down the fine large building. You saw people gathered. There were some stage lights and the large gala room had trees with flowers everywhere as well as thrones, little game booths photo booths, and a banquet. And, of course, a packed dance floor. A live band played. Many people wore crowns and wings and elf ears and were dancing away with zeal. Women twirled their ballgown skirts with smiles so big it lit them up. Many flicked their capes dramatically or wrapped around them like blankets. There were fairy lights and glitter everywhere and there were photo ops and even a costume contest. It was in full sway.

 Including a crowd that included Tom’s students. They jumped up in time to the song, breathlessly singing along to every word.

Tom held out your hand, both of you feeling like the king and queen looking over their jubilant subjects. You both walked down. Hoping your outfit looked as nice on you as you hoped it would.

The song was entering its last chorus. The student's backs were turned and their capes and wings were bouncing as they danced. They hadn’t noticed you yet.

He went to his group of students and cleared his throat. At once they turned their heads.

They looked at him and then you and their jaws dropped.

Tom said.“hello, here is  Y/N, my beautiful, amazing girlfriend.” He then leaned you in and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

All of their eyes bugged out of their skulls and jaws dropped like broken nutcrackers among them.

You were worried the girls in the group would glare at you like they were going to rip out your stomach intestines.

But instead, all of them collapsed into a collective “AAaaaaawwwwwww, hello!” and “What?! WHAT?!” Their eyes flitted toward Tom in tight leather (who wouldn’t?) and you in your presence. 

You went up like in any social situation. You gave them a smile- warm, genuine, polite, and friendly.

“Hi there, it’s nice to meet you- I heard all about you guys!”

You shook their hands. You got to meet them and learn names- Kelly, Hailey, Jessie, Emily, Daniel, Isaiah, Chase, Cameron, Kat, Miranda, Edgar, and so many more your head spun. But you eventually got it with practice.

But they let you dance with them. Be relaxed and have fun. It moved from a band to a playlist of all the classic dance songs. The band blasted Single Ladies and the girls invited you, dragging you in. You tried to copy the moves from the music video, but couldn’t quite and they all burst into laughter anyway.

It then slowed down- it was a ballad, the Cody Fry song about falling in love being like a symphony.

“Well…could I have a dance with my lady?” Tom asked, holding out his hand.

They gasped and looked at you.

“Oh, what a gentleman! I’d be delighted!” you said, accepting his hand.

They let you and Tom have a slow dance- how handsome he looked in the light, beaming at you. They smiled as if they were watching a rom-com at the end. There were no angry glares- at most, some looked a little reflective and sad. But none dared interrupt the moment with you and Tom.

Would they hate you after seeing the affection?

If so, they shut their mouths and minded their beeswax about it.

There were loads of pictures- you were willing to take some (they were seeing you as the surrogate Adult Adult more than their adults) and they included you in some, including some selfies.

Tom excused himself and returned with even brought you a little plate of food. a plate full of little sandwiches, cheeses, and fruits. You both rested your feet and shared some, feeling their eyes on you. For dessert, there were some gooey brownies that melted in your mouth. Tom eagerly grabbed some, his large hands packing as many brownies as he could. 

But you realized his beard had streaks of chocolate brownies on it, you burst into laughter and you heard some giggling from the students too.

“Oh, let me take care of that!” you offered.

You got out a handkerchief and wiped it off of him. You definitely heard “awwwws” in the distance. Looking at it, his beard was now clean.

“There you go! But dashing as always!” you said.

He held your hand and kissed it. The “AWWWWWS” got louder in the back and you both had to suppress your laughter.

Rejoining the students, you saw them less as little judges or would-be homewreckers. You got to talk to them. Maybe you judged them harshly- you remembered being in college when you were that young too. Of course, they grumbled about the coursework sometimes and you gave your own insight. 

“Oh- you’re seriously reading Persuasion? Oh, just wait! Austen takes some time to get used to when you read her stuff- read them slowly and you will catch onto what’s happening! The yearning in that one is beautiful” you encouraged a distraught Hailey. 

You even discussed what fantasy books they were into and got some more recommendations for your ever-growing TBR. And at the end, every last person in the crowd gathered and danced. You and Tom joined the students with big grins and aching feet, but you wouldn’t stop until that last song ended its phrase. No drama. No pettiness. And no hiding. No fear. Just people at a party. Young and happy and alive.

--:::------::------------------->◇<--------------------::------:::---

The other morning, you were back at the coffee shop. Waiting on them. Soon enough, they arrived in their band, though you remained in the corner. 

“I couldn’t believe he had a girlfriend!” Daniel gasped.

“Really?! I’m not! A man that fine can have his pick,” Kelly commented.

They began to all get iced coffees and gather around.

“She is gorgeous- didn’t you see her at that ball!? And she’s super nice!”

“Yeah…I want them to be happy and he seems so happy-”

“Oh, he is cheesing after her- you saw how he smiled?! And how he got the plate for her? Like, he’s a walking green flag!”

‘She’s so lucky!

“Listen, I am glad they’re happy…I just wish it were me…”

They all sighed and agreed,. You waited for that whole vibe of that phrase to blow away.

Then, quietly you walked over.

“Hello everyone,” you said.

They gasped and turned heads.

“YN! YN, hi!” one boy, what was his name- oh yes, Cameron!-said.

“Oh, I just wanted to pop by,” you added.

Then, Emily stood up. She got out a chair from one table and moved it over to where everyone sat .

“Do you have anywhere to be? You can…you can join us! You’re welcome to!”

You smiled at them and took a seat.

[mama2bears]

Guardian In The Night - Part 2

Warnings: A few curse words maybe, use of pet name Sweetheart

Pairings: Tyler Owens/F. Reader

A/N: Thank you for the likes! Hope you enjoying the story. I am planning on one more chapter maybe to finish this one up.

Catch up here with Part 1

Tyler was awoken later that night by sirens, or what he thought was sirens. He peeked out the window, and saw blue lights going down your drive way.

He grabbed his cell phone quickly calling your number as he ran out to his truck, still wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Tyler?” you answer your phone and he could tell you were crying.

“What happened? Are you okay? I am on my way now.” he said in one breath.

“Someone tried to break in. They were trying to kick down the door then broke a window.” you couldn't stop the tears and he heard the tremble in your voice.

“I am pulling up to your house now. See you in a minute.”

He barley got the truck parked before jumping out and running over to you, wrapping his arms around you. You were giving a statement to the police officer.

“And you are?” the police officer looked at Tyler.

“I am her neighbor, Tyler Owens.” he said.

“Any idea who could have been around here?” the officer asked, addressing both of you.

“There was a creep at the bar tonight.” Tyler said. “We got into a little altercation when he put his hands on the lady. I followed her home and didn't see anyone following us. Other then that though. I don't know.”

“Ever have trouble out this way before?” he asked.

You shake your heard, “No, I have always felt safe here. Never have had anyone prowling around.”

The officer asked for a description of the guy from the bar, which you gave. They promised to keep a patrol car out this way and would be on the lookout. Other then that, there wasn't nothing else they could do.

Once the officers left, Tyler turned to you. “They broke the window?” he asked.

You nodded, showing him the front porch window smashed with a rock. “I had my daddy's gun and told them I was going to shoot and the police were on the way.” You were shaking, “They took off running.”

“I'll get some stuff in town and fix the window tomorrow.” Tyler told you, “In the mean team, come on over to my house. There's a guest bedroom you can sleep in for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, thank you.” You wipe the tears from your eyes as Tyler pulls you into a hug. “It'll be alright.” he whispered.

You lay your head on his chest, arms tightly wrapped around him, just taking in his scent. You felt safe and protected as Tyler lead you to his truck, opening the door.

Within a minute, you were over at his place and he was leading you up the stairs to the guest bedroom, “You want some tea or anything?” he asked.

“No..I am okay. Thank you.”

“Alright.” he smiled, “My room's right down the hall. Just yell if you need anything.” he backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.

The rest of the night, he spent sitting on the sofa, unable to go back to sleep. He felt that he needed to stay up, stay on guard.

* * * * *

Early that morning you awoke to the smell of bacon and eggs cooking. You saw one of Tyler's shirts and sweatpants laid out on the chair next to your bed with a note, “Bathroom down the hall. Feel free to take a shower and put these on. I know we forgot to grab you some clothes last night. Thought you'd feel more comfortable in something other then your nightgown to wear. Breakfast will be ready for you.”

You smile, picking up the clothes and heading into the bathroom, turning on the hot water.

Tyler hears the water running upstairs, so he goes ahead and fixes you a plate of food and pours your coffee, setting the cream and sugar out on the table for you.

“Morning.” he smiles when you walk down the stairs, “Breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you. It smells delicious.” you smile.

“Still like cream and sugar in your coffee?” he asked.

“You remember, after all this time?”

“Of course I do. Used to be three creams and two sugars. I wasn't sure if it changed, so I just put the cream and sugar on the table.”

“It hasn't changed.” you smile.

“I am going to head into town and get some glass to fix that window for you. Want to ride along?”

“You don't need to fix it. I'll file a claim with the insurance and get someone out there.”

“It will take days if not weeks to get someone out there. It's no problem to fix it. I just need to take measurements, have them cut the glass and put it in. A few minutes I'll have it in.”

“Thank you, Tyler...for last night, for everything.”

“Anytime. That's what friends are for.” he looked at you, sitting at the kitchen table in his t shirt and sweats, sipping coffee and eating a breakfast he prepared for you. He couldn't help but to think if this might have been what every morning would have looked like if he had only returned your call five years ago. Maybe you would have had a little one or two running around the table.”

“Ever wonder what could have been?” he asked softly after a few moments.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“What if you didn't leave for school? What if I didn't leave to go chase storms? What if I wasn't an ass and I returned your call or even called you. What if we didn't go five years without seeing or speaking to each other.”

You only shook your head, “There's no way to know what could have been, so I just don't think about it. Life goes on.”

“Yeah...yeah it does.” he starts loading the dishwasher, then drives you back home. He makes you wait in the truck while he runs a check though the house and around the property, making sure no one was hanging around and nothing else had been broken into.

“I'll be back in about an hour or so and get that window fixed.” he said before leaving.

“It's my turn for lunch today. Since you made it yesterday, I'll have us some sandwiches ready when you come back. Maybe make some of my sweet tea.”

“Ah, I used to love that sweet tea! It was always the sweetest.” he smiled, “Alright...see you for lunch then, sweetheart.”

You smiled, that was the second time he had used 'sweetheart' with you since last night.

Going into the house, you double check all the doors to make sure they were locked and called your dog Jack into the house before sitting down to try and read a book. You try to concentrate on the words in front of you, but every little sound was making you look. You felt like someone was watching, but you knew no one was there. You felt alone, and for the first time that you could remember, you were actually scared to be alone.

You toss the book down and turn up some music before beginning to make lunch. You kept glancing out the window, watching for Tyler's truck to come speeding down the drive way. Two hours seemed to drag on forever, until finally, you heard the music blasting and soon the truck appeared in a cloud of dust.

Finally, you felt some relief. You felt safe again.

As promised, it only took Tyler a few minutes to get the new window put in.

You brought the sandwiches and tea out to the front porch and set them on the table between two rocking chairs. “Bathroom is right in the door, to the right if you want to wash up.” you tell him.

“Thanks. Those sandwiches look amazing.” he lingered in the doorway for a moment, everything in him wanted to kiss you, but he forced himself to go on into the bathroom and wash up.

Again, he thought about what could have been. Him fixing things around the house for you. You having lunch ready for him and you two sitting there on the front porch, making small talk and enjoying the view.

Tyler sat down, taking a sip of the tea you made and gave you a smile, “Still the sweetest tea ever.” he paused looking out over your front yard, towards his house, “There's a few cells about an hour west of here into Texas. The team and I are going to head out soon as I am done eating. Would you care to put the horses in the barn for me tonight? It might be late when I get home.”

“Yeah, sure.” you say, dread filling you as you thought about night.

“Thanks. You gonna be okay?” he asked.

“Yeah..fine.” you force a smile, “I am sure whoever it was last night is long gone.”

“Probably. You got my number, if you need anything, call me, okay?” he asked.

“Will do.” you pick up the plates and glasses and carry them into the house. Tyler waits a moment before standing and opening the door a bit, “I am heading out now. See you in the morning, I'll send the money I owe you to your Venmo before I leave.” he called.

“No problem. Whenever you can. I trust you. Be safe out there.” you call back.

“Bye.” He says and walks to his truck, 'I love you.' He whispers under his breath, taking one more look at the house before driving away.

* * * *

You get the kitchen cleaned up and then run over to Tyler's place to bring his horses into the barn and feed the dog. The sun was just starting to set when you made your way back home and you quickly ran into the house, slamming the door and locking it.

Your dog, Jack laid in middle of the living room floor looking at you as tried to catch your breath. Why were you terrified of the coming night? Surely there was no one out there. They were gone. There was nothing to fear...that's what you kept telling yourself.

Going over to the sofa, you pick up the phone, seeing a message from Tyler,

“We're going live on the YouTube channel in a few minutes...this one looks big...maybe you wanna check it out?” was the message along with a link to the Tornado Wranglers you tube.

You sigh, settling in and opening up the channel. The first thing you see is Tyler's truck in middle of the tornado, fireworks shooting off the back of the truck, lighting up the twister.

This was worse then bull riding...you thought. You continued watching as the team danced around the truck hooting and hollering once the tornado was over. Somehow, not feeling quite so alone as long as you were connected to the live feed. It was like you had a connection to someone else, and weren't sitting here alone with who knows what outside.

A thump outside made you jump and you ran to turn on the lights. Your dog only glanced up at you and didn't seem alarmed, but you were. You thought you heard footsteps and you run though the house turning on lights at each room you came too. Then you dart back to the living room, turning on the TV and turning it up louder. Maybe, if you had the TV on, whoever or whatever outside would think you weren't alone...and would leave.

You sat on the sofa trembling in fear until sleep finally won out.

* * * * *

It was almost 1 am when Tyler was approaching his drive way. He slowed as he passed you house, noticing all the lights were on. He quickly turned into the driveway and sped up to the house.

Picking up his phone, he texted, “You okay?”

The ding of your phone startled you awake, once more. You kept drifting in and out of sleep, every little noise you heard or thought you heard make you jump.

“Yeah. Where are you?” you sent him a message, noticing the time. Why was he texting you at 1 am?

“I was heading home and saw the lights on.” he answered, “Everything okay?” Tyler decided not to tell you that he was sitting right outside your door just yet.

“Yeah, I just thought I heard a noise. Guess it was nothing.” you replied.

Tyler scanned the area around your house, then picked up the flashlight he kept next to the driver's seat.

He called you instead of sending another message.

“Tyler?” you answer on the first ring.

“Hey, I am just outside of your house now. Where did you think you heard the noise at?” he asked, on full alert.

“I...I don't know. All over I guess. I can't sleep. Every time I fall asleep, something wakes me up. Just jitters probably.”

“I am going to take a look around just to be sure. Stay in the house with the doors locked. I'll let you know if I find anything.”

“Tyler..no.” you protest. “I am sure it's nothing.”

“I'll call you back in a few. Hang tight.” he hanged up and stepped out of the truck, shining his flashlight around. He made a full circle around the house, checking the windows, bushes and ground then moved on towards the barn, checking in every corner he could. Once he was satisfied there was nothing there, he walked back to the truck and called you.

“Everything okay?” you asked, peering out the window, your voice trembling a little.

“All clear. No signs of anything out here. Probably was the wind.” he paused, “Wanna come crash at my place again?”

You thought for a moment then answered, “No...I'll be okay. I am just really tired. Thank you, Ty. I feel safer now that you checked out things.”

“No problem. Good night, Sweetheart.” he smiled, getting back in the truck. He sat there for a few moments, watching as one by one each light in the house was turned out.

He leaned his seat back and did his best to get comfortable before dozing off. He wasn't about to return home if you were afraid. If you weren't going to come home with him, then he was going to stay out here in his truck, making sure you were safe.

* * * * *

The sun was just peeking up over the horizon when your dog started fussing to go out. “Alright, fine.” you mutter, stumbling out of the bed and to the door. You were shocked to open the door and see the red Dodge Ram sitting there in the drive.

“Tyler?” you called.

He jumped awake at the sound of your voice, quickly looking around, then smiling at you.

“Morning Sweetheart.” he smiled.

“What the hell are you doing sleeping in your truck in front of my house?” you scold him, hands on your hips.

“I didn't want to leave last night. You seemed worried and if you were hearing noises out here, I wanted to stay here and makes sure everything was okay.”

Your heart was filled with love. Actually, the love you had always felt for Tyler Owens never did go away. It always lingered, and maybe that's why you never got too serious with anyone. Your heart always belonged to him. Even if you would never be anything more then friends, the thought that this man would willingly sleep in his truck outside your house... just to make sure you were okay, made that love grow ever more.

“Well come on in and I'll make us some coffee. Want some pancakes for breakfast?” you offered.

“Sounds great.” he smiled, hoping from the truck, giving the dog a pet on the head before following you in. “Let me help with something.” he offered.

“You take the plates out if you want, after you wash up.”

“Yes, ma'am.” he grinned, washing his hands in the sink, “Where's the plates?” he asked? “Right side of sink, second cabinet, first shelf.” you direct him, pouring the pancake mix in the skillet.

“Wanna go for a ride today? We can load the horses up on the trailer and take them to one of the trails around. I am sure the dogs would like to come too.”

“No storms to chase today?” you asked, standing to clean up the dishes.

Tyler puts his hand on your arm, then stands. “Nope...sit back down. You cook, I clean.” he grinned, “And no, don't look like there's any storms until maybe next week. There might be some over in Oklahoma.” he stated, taking the dishes from you and loading them in the sink.

“You don't have to wash my dishes. My house, my dishes, I clean.”

“Don't work like that, Sweetheart. Not with me. I'll get these washed up and run home to tend to the horses. Maybe we can pack a lunch and have a picnic up at the state park...if you wanted to go. I could help out with any chores around here before we left.”

“That sounds great.” you smile. It sounded like the perfect date to be honest...but it wasn't a date. You both had already established that you were friends...best of friends, but friends all the same. “I don't have much here to do. A quick shower and feed the dog. I'll get us some sandwiches and chips put together for a picnic.”

“It's a date then. I'll pick you up in two hours.” Tyler said causally, but hoping that maybe...just maybe it could have been the date that he wanted to take you on fifteen years ago...back when he first carved your name in that old oak tree. He walked to the truck with a skip in his step. He knew he had some work to do, but maybe...just maybe, he could make up for his past mistakes.

[velvetchrry]

━━━━ THE COLLAPSE (2)

pairing: captain john price x f!reader

2.1k. you’ve been captured. *tw: non/dubcon

John lets you out of the hand cuffs when you prove to him you’ve calmed down a bit.

Just the ones on your wrists though — the ones around your ankles are still keeping you firmly in place on the bed. He lovingly rubs a green salve into where the handcuffs have marred your delicate skin, talking softly to you as he does. You’re not quite sure what he says, you can’t help it when you tune him out. The part of your brain that tries to save you from trauma, you think.

You beg him, plead with him, to let you use a bathroom. Almost cry for it. He makes you go in a bed pan and it's then that you realize you’ve been nude this whole time under the blanket he's placed on you. It’s embarrasing — having to go while he watches and then him cleaning you up after, as if it's the most natural thing in the world. As if some part of him enjoys it. Like he was meant to be here to take care of you. You tried to clean yourself, rip the cloth from his hands, but he warned you in a low growl not to and it scared you straight enough to let him continue.

You’re too smart to ask him to let you go. That can’t happen yet. No — you’re going to have to earn your freedom, little by little, like you did with the handcuffs. You almost did beg him to let you go in the beginning, when you were still in hysterics. John is smart. He’s a planner. That much has been obvious from the start.

The first night John feeds you every bite himself. It’s homemade soup and bread and you hate yourself for thinking how good it is. You briefly considered a hunger strike but realize not only would he probably force feed you — you also wouldn’t accomplish anything from it. You need to keep your strength up.

It’s been a few days, as far as you can tell, and that’s only by keeping track of the meals John’s been feeding you. They are actual meals too. Breakfast is sausage or bacon with toast and eggs. Lunch varies, but usually something light (you found the soup from the first night was actually his leftovers from lunch that day). Dinner is a full, homecooked meal — meats, veggies, the works. John’s even promised dessert when you ‘earn’ it, but hasn’t said what that means yet.

He doesn’t seem to take issue with your silence. You’ve barely spoken to him since he brought you down here, but he’s also been relatively quiet — only saying what he deems necessary, only soothing when rubbing that damn stinging green paste on your wrists. It discolors your skin but actually seems to be working.

No matter how hard you try, you always fall asleep at night — you get tucked in after dinner, he reads to you from his book (he’s currently reading The Old Man and the Sea), and he ends the night by kissing you softly on the forehead, turning the lights all the way off as he exits. You wait about 30 seconds before scrubbing where his lips met your skin, facial hair leaving a slight burn behind.

On the fourth day after breakfast, John enters the room, a caddy in one hand and a bucket of steaming water in the other. You can just barely make out the tops of bottles and a rag or two in the caddy from where you lay on the bed. He kicks the stool over to the bed you’ve been calling home and takes a seat.

“Time for a bath, love.”

Your throat is scratchy from underuse, but you still let out a small thank you — even if it is just a whore’s bath and not a real shower, you’ll take anything. You sit up on one elbow and reach with you other hand for one of the rags. John tsks at you.

“No, darling.”

Eyes wide as saucers, you look up at him. “B.. but you.. you said I could have a bath.”

“You are havin’ a bath,” he states matter of factly, as he plops a rag into the steaming hot bucket.

John grabs a towel and rips off the blankets covering you. You can’t stop the shiver that ripples down your spine, the whine that escapes from low in your throat. He shimmies the towel underneath you, caressing your side with light touches as he does.

John reaches down to grab the rag and wrings out the excess. He wraps it around a bar of soap and gently, very gently, starts to massage it into your skin. He starts with your feet, working his way up and up and up.

He dips the rag back into the bucket just before he reaches the seam of your pussy and a fat tear rolls down the side of your cheek. He swipes it away with his big thumb without a second’s thought. “Shh, now. None of that love.”

The rag runs across the outside of your lips gently and you let out a muted whimper. John grunts and palms the tenting in his pants before continuing to wash you. When he gets to your breasts he takes extra care to clean them as delicately as he can.

Once he’s finished on top, his strong arms grab you to sit you up. He sits on the bed behind you and washes your back hurriedly compared to the rest of your body. Once he’s finished, he takes the other wettened rag and quickly wipes the soapy residue from your skin.

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll wash your hair too,” he murmurs, his scruff brushing against your ear. Your body shudders in response. “You gonna be a good girl for me?”

Your lip finds purchase between your teeth before you decide to nod in response.

“Good,” he practically purrs, before getting up from the bed. He pushes you down onto your back with a tenderness you didn't know was possible.

“Now for the inside.”

Your brow furrows in confusion. “Wha-” you start, before you’re cut off. John’s warm mouth wraps around your folds, his tongue spreading you open. A whoosh of air releases from you and your hips buck up towards the ceiling. John reacts immediately and wraps a strong arm around you, effortlessly keeping you on the bed as his tongue assaults your sweet pussy. He laps up your juices like you’re the first water he's come across after days in the desert. Like he just found the fountain of youth between your legs.

You squirm and try to push yourself back towards the head of the bed, but it's useless under his firm grip. You’re not sure if your tears are because of just how insanely fucking good this feels or because you want him to stop. You should want him to stop… right?

“Sit. Still,” he growls, hot breath against your folds making you shudder. His tongue laps against you, splitting you open. It’s so wet. All of it. You feel the wetness pool against the towel beneath you; across your inner thighs; inside of you. John’s beard irritates your skin slightly as he assaults you.

John backs his mouth away from you only for a second to coat one of his thick fingers in saliva. He rubs it against you and you jump, a yelp escaping your lips. He hums to himself and he slowly rubs his finger up and down and around to your clit before he pushes his tongue inside of you again. You bite your lip hard enough that a metallic tang assaults your senses for a brief moment.

He splits you open slowly with that thick finger, dragging through your folds until he’s pushing inside. He’s purposeful in his movements. Once his finger is in to the hilt, he gives you a short lick. You whine. “Good little kitten,” he murmurs.

His finger rubs against your gummy walls while his tongue laps against your cunt with a ferocity you didn’t know existed. You can’t hold back your moans of pleasure now — you’re crying out for him. Screaming his name. Begging him to stop. Heat shoots up your spine and pools in your core. Your hips buck off the bed — or at least they try to but you can’t fight against the grip John has on your hips.

He only pauses for a moment to console you. “Shh, love. You can take it. Go on now, take it.”

He slips a second large finger inside of you and the stretch has you moaning. You struggle to catch your breath. Your toes curl, you grip the sheets hard enough to rip the fabric.

You ride out your orgasm on John’s face and fingers. Tears well in your eyes and spill down the side of your cheeks. John hums in approval the entire time.

His face is drenched when he sits up to look at you. He winces as he palms his stiffened cock. You suck in a terrified breath.

“We’ll start slow, love. Even though you let that wanker fuck you the first night,” he says with a growl. John unzips his jeans and pushes them along with his boxers off his thighs, flinching slightly when they catch on his thick length. His cock springs free and slaps against his stomach and your mouth waters. A shiver trails down your spine.

John approaches you like a predator approaching his prey. Steady, confident in his success. You know then that you’re absolutely fucked. You’ve known it for a while, in the back of your mind, but this solidifies it. Watching him saunter over to you, heavy cock palmed in his fist.

He pushes his head against your lips and you squish you eyes closed, mouth shut firmly. “Now, now pet… it’s my turn.” He brings his large thumb to your lips, his other fingers cupping the underside of your jaw as he pushes his thumb solidly into your mouth. His thumbnail grazes your gums as he forces your jaw to unclench and open around his thumb.

“No teeth,” he warns lowly, before slowly bringing his cock to your lips. Prespend wettens the tip and makes it glide into your barely open mouth. He pushes until he hits the back of your throat and you involuntarily choke, teeth barely grazing his fat cock.

He flicks your nose hard enough that you feel as if you just went underwater without holding your breath. “Watch it,” he growls. He goes achingly slow as he pulls back out, a string of your saliva the only thing connecting you two. Another tear falls and he gently wipes it away. The delicate skin on the side of your eyes starts to burn.

He fists some of your hair at the back of your head before pushing himself in again. You start to choke before he’s soothing you. “Easy, love. Breath through your nose,” he gently commands — voice low and scratchy — all while petting your hair. You do as he asks but only because you can’t get enough oxygen to your lungs.

“Little further,” he coos, slowly sliding himself again to the back of your throat. Your nose tickles on the dark coarse hair of his pelvis. He grunts at the squeeze. John watches you reverently in this position. He’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life. He can’t wait to break your stubborn streak, once he fucks your pretty little cunt. Can’t wait to stretch you open, feel your walls clench around him. You’ll be a good girl then. He just knows it.

Both of his large hands paw at your head now as he sets a steady pace. He almost cums just looking at the sight of you taking him. It takes every last bit of his reserve not to just blow his load right there. He grunts and shudders everytime his tip slams into the soft wall of your throat. Saliva runs down your mouth, tear tracks marking your beautiful skin. The prettiest sight he’s ever seen.

He fucks your mouth until he can’t hold on any longer. Ropes of his cum trickle down your throat and he pulls out faster than he would like to in order to keep your jaw closed completely. He watches you carefully as you struggle to swallow his load. Once he’s certain you have, he lets go of your face and you suck in a deep breath. You sputter, your lungs burn. The thick coating of him lines the inside of your mouth and you try not to gag.

“Sweet kitten,” he soothes, lovingly petting your head. “Come now, let’s wash your hair.”

[honeybeefae]

Revenge Fuck Eris

Use Me (Eris x Reader)

BINGO: Revenge Fuck

(Okay I am back and I am READY! Also going to apologize for making this so short but i KNOW y’all will want a part two so dont worry. This was hella fun to write and I definitely think Eris would be 100% for a revenge fuck because he would egg you on. I really think this is one of my best-written scenes and I hope you guys enjoy it!)

WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of cheating (both parties), semi-public sex

What. The. Fuck.

Those were the three words your mind was repeatedly screaming when you walked in on Azriel, your boyfriend, your best friend, the man you’ve been with for years, pinning the youngest Archeron sister against the wall with his head buried in her neck. 

There was no explaining away the situation. Nothing innocent about the pose and you felt a dangerous mix of anger and betrayal brewing deep in your soul. You had stood there frozen as Elain’s eyes had met your own, at first widening in surprise and shame before Azriel did something that had her gasping and moaning.

You balled up your fists and heavily contemplated murdering them both before your shoulders sagged and you turned and left the room. It felt like all the rooms were caving in around you, your blood rushing to your ears as you stumbled down the hallway trying to find your room.

“Y/N?” A garbled voice called out, your mind not even registering it until the person physically stopped you and shook your shoulders. “Y/N!”

Your eyes blinked away the tears that were falling down your face as you made out the face of Eris. You had forgotten he was staying in the Night Court for the night, the Solstice party upstairs still in full swing.

“Leave me alone, Eris. I’m not in the mood.” You frowned, pushing his hands off of you and turning around. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your wrist, stopping you once more. It pissed you off.

“I said leave me alone!”

“Who did this to you?” He asked quietly, eyebrows knitted together in concern. “Who made you cry?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You hiccuped, looking at your shoes. When you had found them all you had felt was rage but now that you were alone, you were consumed by sadness and shame. What if’s were running through your mind, wondering if you had done something or if you had become unattractive. It was gnawing at your gut. 

“It does to me,” Eris murmured, putting two fingers under your chin so you were looking at him. “What happened?”

Eris, despite his flaws and the rumors around him, had always treated you well. You were his favorite member of Rhysand’s court if he had to choose though that wasn’t saying much. The two of you had similar fathers and bonded over it. Sometimes you would joke around and it always bothered Azriel. In fact, if you were ever close to Eris with Azriel in the same room he seemed to have a problem with it.

All that being said, could your trust Eris? Would he laugh in your face and confirm your worst fears? Would he use it to hurt you later? There was still so much that you didn’t know about him it was hard to decide if he was who he presented himself as.

But as he watched you, you saw no laughter or judgment in his eyes. Just worry.

“I caught,” You took a shuddering breath, wrapping your arms around yourself as the scene replayed in your head. “I caught Azriel and Elain…they were, he was…”

You couldn’t even finish the sentence. It felt like you were going to be physically sick if you continued speaking so you closed your mouth and closed your eyes, trying to take deep breaths.

His fingers disappeared from your chin and you had thought he had left, too uncomfortable to say anything or perhaps even go gossip, but when you peeked out you saw him still standing there.

Except his eyes were now filled with cold rage, his jaw tense. You saw that his fist was curled up by his side and could physically feel the heat coming off of him. He turned to look behind him, as if contemplating if he should go find the couple, before turning back to you.

“What an ignorant, foolish male,” Eris growled, long strands of red hair falling in front of his face as he shook his head. “To go out and find a star when he had a whole galaxy right in front of him.”

Your head snapped up to look at him when he finished his sentence, confusion evident on your face. What had he just said? 

“What?” You asked quietly.

“You heard me.” He whispered, watching you take in his words. “He’s a fool to go after someone like her when he has you. If you were mine…”

Eris cut his sentence short, tightening his lips to stop whatever confession was about to spill from his mouth. You, however, wanted to hear it and stepped closer to him. The tears on your face were shining in the candlelight of the hallway as you gazed up at him, your heart thrumming.

“If I was yours?” 

“I do not wish to make things harder on you. I shouldn’t have said anything to begin with. Let me escort you back to the party.” He ushered, trying to change the topic. However, you planted your feet firmly on the ground to root yourself in place. 

“No, I don’t want to go back to the party.” You said stubbornly, raising your chin. “Finish what you were going to say.”

“If I finish that sentence I am afraid my rocky alliance with this court will come tumbling down. Please.” His voice was tense but you could see how his cheeks flushed, how his breathing was just a little faster, and you couldn’t stop yourself from pushing back once more.

“Oh for goodness sake, Eris, just-” You began frustratedly, gasping when you suddenly found yourself pressed against the cool brick of the hallway with Eris looming over you. His body was pressed fully against you, his hand lightly grasping your face, and you could swear you could feel something grazing your thigh.

“If you were mine I would take care of you properly. I wouldn’t leave you in search of anyone else, I wouldn’t need anyone else.” He breathed into your ear, swallowing thickly. “If you were mine…I would ruin all other men for you. I would teach you so many things, show you how a lady like yourself should properly be bedded and fucked. You would begin every morning and end every night with my name on your lips and your legs wrapped around me.”

His words went straight to your sex and you couldn’t stop the small whimper that escaped you. Eris had always been a distant friend, if that, but you couldn’t deny his beauty. The way he carried himself, his attitude, and even his walk had you staring for longer than you care to admit.

You knew your body wanted this…you knew Eris wanted this…but then your mind flashed back to Azriel. The man who you lived with, the man who made you feel safe and secure. He had always made sure your needs were met, that you never wanted for anything. 

And he also was currently in another room screwing Elain Archeron’s brains out.

It seemed Eris caught your hesitation and while a small part of him wrestled with the morality of what he was intending to do, the bigger part wanted to show you just how better you could be treated. He also liked the fact that he would be taking something from the sulking Illyrian, something he didn’t understand the true value of. 

“Come on, little fox.” Eris purred into your ear, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin. “Use me. Get revenge. Let me show you what you need.”

Your eyes closed, feeling like you were standing between two doors that led to different fates. All sorts of conflicting feelings were swirling in your soul but when Eris trailed a hand up your leg, hiking it over his hip, the answer became crystal clear.

You wanted him. 

“Yes, yes.” You nodded, raising your hands to tangle in his hair. “Ruin me.”

A low growl rumbled in his chest as he crashed his lips against your own, your teeth gnashing together in carnal need as he easily moved your other leg so that you were now fully wrapped around him. The taste of him had you growing even wetter as he slid his tongue into your mouth, using one of his hands to free himself before shoving your panties to the side.

You cried out and threw your head back when he thrust into you fully, the delicious stretch of his cock feeling better than any man you had had before. He immediately set a hard pace, angling his hips so he reached that spot inside you that had you clenching around him tightly.

“Fuck, Eris, oh my gods…” You whined, your dress bunched up at your hips as your feet bounced with his thrust. Eris was no better, his lips moving to start biting at your neck and shoulder. He was being rough, his teeth catching your skin, but you loved it. It was making you feel a high you didn’t get with Azriel.

“I knew you’d be tight for me, knew you’d take me so well.” He praised as he grabbed both of your asscheeks for better leverage. “Do I fuck you better than that bastard? Hm?”

When you tried to answer he gave a particularly hard thrust that made you see stars, your eyes rolling back into your head as you rested it against the wall. You could feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, faster than ever, and you knew you were going to drown in it. 

He knew it too, could see the small o your lips were creating as he licked a long stripe up your neck and to your ear. Your hands moved his hair to grasp his shoulders, your nails digging so hard into his skin that you pierced it. 

“Look at you, Y/N, letting me fuck your pretty cunt in the hallway where anyone could see. But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” He taunted, his balls tightening with the need to release. “You want him to find you, to see you getting split in half by me. You want to be claimed in front of the world.” 

You tried to shake your head but Eris grunted in disapproval, squishing your face in his hand until your eyes were forced open. His pupils were blown wide in lust, matching your own, and you swore it was just the two of you in the whole world. 

“Say it.”

“I want it,” You moaned, right on the cusp of ecstasy. “I want him to see me like this, for him to see how much better you are.”

Eris snarled and kissed you once more, hitting that spot in you one more time and sending you toppling over the edge. It made your entire body shake and you felt like you were floating on air. He followed you into bliss easily, releasing inside of you until you were filled to the brim.

Both of you were sharing breaths when he pulled away, resting his forehead against your own. He still had you pinned which you were thankful for as you weren’t sure if you could walk yet. You came down slowly as you realized what had just happened, what you had just done.

And where you expected guilt to reside you felt…nothing. In fact, more than anything, you felt hungry for more. It was like brushing over a bite that itched. You couldn’t get just a taste, you needed everything. You needed to scratch that itch until you were satisfied.

When your eyes connected with his you knew Eris felt the same way. You smiled, exposing all your teeth, before nodding once. He gave you a small smirk and held you tightly against him before winnowing away to his temporary room in the Night Court.

Both of you missed the pair of vengeful hazel eyes watching you from the end of the hallway. 

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Jealousy In Hell? Part 2.

Notice how she is not disturbing the cat who's occupied half the bed? Cat Supremacy. Although dogs are more affectionate.

What does his huge smile say now?

"I don't get nightmares, my dear, in fact, I give them to other people." He once on those days where he comforted you, he whispered.

You never told him, but you are not used to being around deranged, misanthropic people. So, Alastor gave you nightmares as well.

Two days back he found you curled up after coming from a night out crying, and you refused to open up to him which made him worried because you were very open about letting people know how you feel at the moment.

"You are a mess, my dear, care to shed some light on what happened?" Alastor asked, stroking your hair, but all he got was angry sobs and angry punches.

So instead of stressing you out more he put you to sleep, to just let you forget the pain a little.

He stretched his staff thing when Mr. Petenious's egg friends were joyfully walking out, they instantly huddled together.

"What Boss, do you know our boss--"

"Wait which boss are you talking about Mike!" One egg said,

"Wait we have names; do you know we might have acid rain!" One egg screamed,

"Oh, Shit! will our eggshells crack open? Oh god!"

Alastor's eye twitched, "Yeah, about that so when you went to the club what happened to Y/n?"

"Uh she was so happy, with Angel and Charlie then she went somewhere saying it was very stuffy inside."

"Uh, Mike went with her too!" One egg said,

"We don't have names, right?" The one named Mike said,

"Uh after that," Alastor said cutting the banter he found too noisy for his liking.

"She didn't come back after that boss."

"Yeah, Y/n always comes back.'

"She did say that the night was really bad!"

He tried finding out more, but it was absolutely hopeless with those egg creatures. At this point, he couldn't tell if what they were telling were anything more than lies.

His best bet could have been to ask you. But you were resting and if possible, he would like to tear a soul and broadcast it of course, it had to be the right soul.

So, one of those nights, when you had just slipped into your nightwear, he comes in Suddenly, and quickly drags you outside, "Alastor- What-where are you taking me?"

You were teleported outside the cold wind, in some abandoned city. "Alastor, I'm not even dressed properly!" You said in a hushed tone.

"What's that my dear you are cold?" Alastor said, "Here you can take my coat.

Now, that his coat fits you more like robes because of the height, it also blocks out the cold. "Your coat is nice Alastor; it actually suits you!" You said taking some time to admire the coat.

You then looked at him abandoning that brief excitement you asked him again, "Alastor where are we going?"

"My dear, that night you had gone out some sinners dared touch you, and although I'm not too much for physical touch and all you must enlighten me about the perpetrator!"

"Alastor..." You sighed heavily. "I know I'm in hell by choice because a perfect afterlife should involve the people I care about, and I don't have any relatives, or parents I know so... just drop it okay?"

"And what if that happens again?" Alastor whispered, "I only need you to tell me who it is, and I'll take your revenge."

"Alastor it's not one sinner they are like a gang, who exploit people's souls to other powerful overlords who pay them a lot. They got really drunk and found me of everyone..." You didn't continue after that, But Alastor's eyes only grew more intense and darker.

"Do you know who they were?"

You slowly nodded, "Well isn't that great? You just made my work so many times easier now instead of those little egg things."

Alastor said that was enough for the day and he retired you to your bedroom, you asked him if you could give him his coat by the morning, and he just waved his hand in a yes manner.

Two weeks later, you woke up to excited voices in front of your door, they were loud and broke the peaceful morning when your door burst open, and Charlie ran inside.

"OH MY GOD!" OH MY GOD!" "OKAY, I NEED TO BREATHE, BREATHE." Charlie slapped herself,

"Angel! he has something to show you, EVEN ALASTOR'S THERE!"

"Guys calm down what's the ruckus about?"

"Charlie let Y/n at least take a breather, but yeah Y/n this is messed up."

"Messed up in a cool way." Angel corrected.

You had gone downstairs where you saw Alastor smiling more than he usually did,

You grabbed Alastor, he came as though he was anticipating the reaction.

"Whatever the matter my dear."

"Alastor, please don't tell me it's about that case!"

"It's not one dear, I broadcasted the entire gang." Alastor put his hand on your cheek. "Did you really think some petty sinners would really scare me?"

Then Alastor looked at you, "I was a bit startled when you told me that they were dealing with overlords, those chumps could only dream about it, what right now it matters is they are gone. So, take it easy."

You breathed in relief before you felt yourself getting lightheaded and slipped into his arms.

"My dear, how very scared were you? It could've been solved so much earlier if you opened your mouth.

[dira333]

No Dating Allowed - Ginjima x Chubby! Reader

Words: 6k, angst to fluff

Warning: Fatphobia but not from the Inarizaki Volleyball team - Also the boys are idiots but they're teenagers so that's to be expected.

“You’re so fat. You’re like a cow. Mooo!” You duck your head at the comment, try to let it slide off you. It still hurts, even if your face doesn’t show. Crying only eggs them on.

“You wouldn’t be so fat if you actually participated in some sports.”

“Like any Club would take them in, she’s too fat to even be a manager.”

You can barely read the words in your book now, the letters blurred by unshed tears. 

You don’t believe that what they’re saying is true. What they are saying is not true.

But it still hurts. Oh, does it hurt.

If only you could make them believe.

-

The idea is so bad you can’t believe you’re going through with it. 

It won’t change anything. 

If your classmates find out that you tried and failed, the bullying will surely get worse.

But still… what if it works out?

Your heart’s beating like a jackhammer in your chest as you approach the door of the third-year classroom. You’ve never been here before and you’re not sure how this is going to go, but you have to at least try, right?

“Can I help you?” A girl asks, her smile open and friendly.

You nod. “C-Can I… Can I talk to K-Kita-san for a… a minute?”

“Oh, sure. Stay right there… Kita-kun! There’s someone here for you.”

The decision to ask him first wasn’t made lightly. You don’t know much about Volleyball other than what you’ve seen during Gym Class. You don’t have to run around much - which you prefer - but you’re not good at jumping. But all the other Captains are way scarier than he is and when you’ve seen him around he’d always been surrounded by an air of calm indifference. If he doesn’t like you, he’ll at least be polite about it.

“Yes?” He’s tall, looming over you like an attractive shadow. You swallow thickly.

“I-I wanted to ask… if you needed… a manager? For Volleyball, I mean.”

Kita blinks.

“You’re a first-year, correct?”

You nod.

“How about we walk for a bit and talk about it?” He leads you down the hallway, away from the prying eyes of his classmates. 

You’re not sure how he does it, but you find yourself talking, explaining, rambling at times about the reasons you have to ask. But when you bite your lip in panic, clearly having overshared, he just nods and urges you to go on. 

“Practice is every day after school. When does your last bus leave?”

You look it up on your phone and he nods. 

“It might happen that we train a little longer, especially the twins. Don’t let them rope you into staying longer. If you do have to stay longer for any reason, don’t hesitate to ask any of the boys to walk you home, okay?”

“O-okay.” 

“Good. I have to get back to class now. I will see you after school. You can see if you like it and decide later.”

You nod, speechless. To say that this has gone better than expected would have been an understatement.

-

No one saw you change into your gym clothes in the bathroom and you’re thankful for that. 

You’re not ready to let anyone from your class know you’re doing this, if ever.

Maybe that’s a bad idea, maybe that would make them see you differently, but with how things are going right now they might just use it as another way to bully you.

It’s so weird to approach the Gym alone. No one’s waiting outside and you panic a little.

Did you get the time wrong? But Kita said after school, right?

You rush to the door to find him in there with three other boys, all of them taller than you.

A dark-skinned boy spots you first.

“Hey!” He waves at you. “I’m Aran Ojiro. You must be the one who’s trying out for manager.”

You swallow hard. This is a try-out? Like a test? What if you fail?

As if reading your thoughts another boy steps forward, his face serious but his words kind.

“Don’t worry too much. Since you’re going to spend a lot of time with us we have to make sure you’ll feel comfortable doing so. You can try out what it would be like.”

“He’s Ōmimi, I’m Akagi,” the last one steps forward, shaking your hand eagerly, “It would be so cool to have a manager again and a cute one too!”

You shy away from his touch and step closer to Kita who simply nods in greeting.

“Aran will show you around and explain the basics to you. As soon as the whole team is here you will get to know them and the official training will start.”

You nod and follow Aran who explains everything thoroughly.

“Can I ask you something?” You speak up when he shows you where the water bottles are kept and how to fill them up and wash them after use. 

“Of course.”

“Kita-san said you don’t have a manager yet. Why is that?”

“Well, Shiraishi graduated last year and after it became clear that Kita was going to become the Captain, he wanted to wait a bit before we got a new manager. I don’t know if you’re aware, but our setter is pretty popular with the girls and I guess Kita didn’t want us overrun with fangirls.”

“Why? Who is your setter?”

Aran stops and turns around. “You don’t know?”

You shake your head, already panicking. Should you know?

“Oh, Samu’s going to love this. Well, we’re finished here anyway, so let's go meet the rest of the team. Just a fair warning, they are a rather rowdy bunch.”

But as you step back into the Gym, the boys are sitting on the floor, quiet like mice. 

Kita’s standing next to what must be the trainer and waves you over.

“I’m Kurosu Norimune, First Coach.” He shakes your hand with a smile as you whisper your name before he turns around and announces it loudly to the students.

Some of them nod and at least Aran and Akagi smile up at you. 

A boy with light brown, messy hair looks up at you with wide eyes and you wonder what’s so surprising about you. Is it your height, or lack thereof, or your weight? 

You swallow thickly and miss at least half of the introduction.

And after that, everything comes to life.

“Hi, I’m Ginjima,” his eyes are still wide, but he’s smiling, a light blush adorning his face. You take a step back and his brows furrow. “I didn’t want to scare you, I just wanted to ask if you want to help me get the ball cart in? That’s usually my job.”

“Oh, of course.” You nod and trod along, trying not to lose him in the bustle of boys running around, setting everything up.

A few minutes later you’re standing on the side and watching, trying to gather their names from when Coach is shouting at them.

“Stop playing around, Atsumu!” That’s the guy with blond hair.

“Osamu! That was also meant for you!” He’s got grey hair.

“You could have gotten that, Suna!” This one turns and looks over as if you’d said it instead of Coach. He looks tired, but at the same time, a little… mean?

-

Too soon it’s break time and they all gather around you, pulling water bottles from your hands.

“Hey, I know you!” You blink up at the guy but you can’t really place his face. “You’re in Class 5, right? I’m Riseki!” He holds out your hand like he wants a high five and you cautiously tap his hand, not sure if that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“You’re cute,” he says, grinning from one ear to the other. Ginjima clears his throat pointedly next to him and your eyes drop back to the floor and all the water bottles you still need to pass around. Right. Work.

As it turns out, being a manager is a lot more work than you thought it would be. But it’s also a lot less hard than your classmates made it look like. You could totally do this every day. And why shouldn’t you, if they let you? You usually don’t like the books Literature Club reads together and you’re handwriting is too awful for that Club.

“What do you think?” Kita asks as he shows you how to disinfect the Volleyball’s one after the other. “Do you want to continue?”

“If I’m allowed to?”

He smiles and you can’t help but smile back.

If you’d get to have an older brother, you’d want him to be like Kita.

- - - xxx - - -

Droplets of water run down his back. It tickles, but he cannot focus on that right now.

“Are you sure Kita said that?” Ginjima asks again, hands practically folded in front of him.

“Absolutely positive,” Akagi confirms, “As soon as she was out of sight, he told us that no one was going to be allowed to ask her out. I mean, he said that we couldn’t make her uncomfortable by any means, but you know Kita, that’s what he meant.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t say it like that.” Tsumu declares pointedly, slinging a sweaty arm around Ginjima’s shoulders. “And you’ve seen our dear Ginjima. He’s fallen for her, he’s a lost cause already.”

“Ah, shaddap.” He throws him off, but Samu’s already there. “Hi, I’m Ginjima!” he teases, voice high. They all laugh, but Ginjima can’t help that he’s blushing. Again.

-

“I want to make clear,” Kita starts the next time they’re all at the Gym, no sight of you, “That no one is going to ask our new Manager out. I am aware that this affects your private life outside of Volleyball, but we don’t want to make her uncomfortable. If you cannot focus on anything but her, you have nothing to do in this team anyway.”

Suna whistles low through his teeth. “Damn, do you want her for yourself?”

Kita stares at him instead of answering and Ginjima swallows thickly, pulling his head in. So much for a chance at love.

-

But still, he can’t help himself. 

Just because he cannot ask you out doesn’t mean he can help you, right? Get to make you smile or even laugh, maybe?

“Here, let me help.” He’s got an eye out for you, making sure you don’t overdo it. “That’s too heavy for you anyway.”

“I’m stronger than I look.” You protest and he has to force himself to look away when you flex your arms. He’s a little jealous and a little thankful that he’s not seen you in your uniform yet. He’s not sure what he’ll do if he does. Probably have a spontaneous heart attack.

- - - xxx - - -

“Where are you going?” You freeze, even though you shouldn’t. 

“To my Club,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What Club? Who’s accepting Fatties?”

You swallow harshly, grab your bag and leave, hoping you can outrun them. 

They don’t bother to follow but you know this isn’t going to be over soon.

But just for a little longer you want to have this for yourself, just be happy with how things are. 

The boys are nice, Kita-san especially. He never gets mean and even when you get something wrong he just explains it calmly to you.

“We use this for disinfecting. You won’t get the same result otherwise.”

Aran’s super nice too, patting your head every time he walks past you like he’s blessing you. He doesn’t mind when you ask questions about Volleyball even though he’s probably explained most of it twice.

“Got that now? No. No problem at all. Maybe it’s easier if you picture the people. Kosaku and Riseki for example, are pinch-servers. Do you remember what that position means?”

Riseki, funnily enough, always asks you for help.

“Did you go over the math lessons already? You did? Sweet! Can you help me with them after training? We can do it here if you want. Kita doesn’t mind when we do our homework in here as long as we don’t disturb the others.”

Then there’s Ōmimi with his serious face who likes to trade books with you and Akagi who’s a bit too loud for your taste but always greets you with a joke.

“Where do the cows go to have fun? The Moovies!”

The second years, though you find the most difficult to work with.

The twins are loud and rowdy and Suna always gets this scary look on his face when he gets quiet. Ginjima always wants to talk to you and you don’t know why and Kosaku doesn’t talk at all.

You prefer to stick with the third years where you can and the first years when they call for you. No one from the Club is in your Class but just because you’ve made it one month doesn’t mean you will make it forever.

Eventually, you’ll be found out.

-

“Where are you going?” 

You try to dash away but this time you’re not fast enough. You hear fabric rip, feel the rush of air around your legs as your skirt drops to the floor. 

Laughter rings out in the mostly empty classroom as you gather the remnants of your uniform around you, leaving with tears streaming down your face.

You won’t be late, you promise yourself, even if you have to explain to your parents later why you need yet another expensive garment. You won’t be late, even if you have to wash your eyes with cold water in the bathroom to make sure you’re not found out.

“You okay? Your eyes are kinda red,” Ginjima points out the second you step into the Gym.

You nod and the lump in your throat makes your voice sound nasally.

“I’m fine. Just allergies.”

“Are you sure? If you’re sick you should go home and rest,” Kita had been in earshot, it seems. You shake your head. Home is the last place you want to be right now. 

“It’s fine, I was just… my eyes were tearing up a lot.”

Kita doesn’t look convinced. He turns to the boys. “Start training. I’ll be back soon.”

Without another comment he grabs you by the arm and gently drags you outside.

“I’m really fine,” you insist once you’re outside and you can trust your voice again. “It’s just allergies.”

“You don’t get allergies from one day to the other. You can tell me what’s wrong. No one’s listening in.”

Fresh tears fall. “My skirt ripped.”

“Oh.” A pause. “That’s unfortunate. Can I see it?”

You freeze, shoulders pulled up. “What?”

“Can I see your skirt? I’m not that good at sewing, but Kosaku is. Maybe we can do something about it.”

He inspects the garment for a second before he tells you to wait here. When he comes back, he’s got Kosaku in tow who looks not the least bit confused.

“Oh yeah,” Kosaku inspects your skirt as well. “That’s an easy fix. I can mend this after practice if you want.”

“You can?”

“Of course.” He sounds a little displeased that you’re questioning his abilities and you bow, immediately apologizing.

“It’s fine. You can buy me some snacks as a thank you… Or not, nothing’s fine too.” He adds hurriedly but when you look up nothing’s amiss. 

“Are you sure? I could bake something.”

“Only if it’s not too much trouble for you. I think all of the boys have a sweet tooth, so I wouldn’t be able to hold onto it for long.”

“They do?”

“Oh yeah. Especially Samu. Though to be fair, he devours everything edible.”

-

You’ve learned your lesson. You’re the first out of class and the last to step in. 

Still you know you won’t be able to get away forever.

But you will enjoy it as long as it lasts.

“I made something,” you exclaim when it’s time for the first real break. You pull the large container from your bag and prop it up, open it to reveal a small mountain of sugar cookies. They’re not in season, but they’re easy to make.

Just as Kosaku predicted, Osamu’s the first to grab one. His face lights up like firework as he tastes it.

“Hey, leave me some!” Atsumu pushes him to the side and you flinch.

“Behave!” Ginjima crows and half of the team turns to look at him, his face turning almost as red as the Inarizaki tie. “We don’t want crumbs in the Gym,” he tries to explain. You offer the box to him next and his hands shake funny when he takes a cookie. 

Maybe he’s just as anxious as you are, you think and send him a small smile. It only deepens the red on his face and you turn back, glad to see Aran approaching. Aran is safe.

- - - xxx - - -

“Does anyone know how we got her to make cookies?” Samu asks, licking the last remnants of his fingers. 

Ginjima listens only with half an ear. You’re sitting on the other side of the large Gym, head bent over Riseki’s books as you explain something.

Why are you just so cute??? “I told her we all like sweets,” Kosaku explains simply.

“And she brought in sweets?” Suna’s voice is teasing enough to gather Ginjima’s whole focus.

“What are you saying?” He asks, voice skipping an octave.

“What do you think I’m saying?” Suna asks back.

“It’s just cookies,” Tsumu argues, clearly annoyed, “Can we get over it and start playing again? I’m getting bored over here.”

-

“Ginjima?” Kita’s voice cuts through the noise and he turns, half expecting a stern reprimand.

Instead, his captain stands stiff like a board, waving for him to come over. Next to him: You, head bowed.

He rushes over, heart thundering ahead.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Our dear manager isn’t feeling well. I trust you to walk her to the bus station.”

“Of course!” His heart beats in his throat now, but at least he managed to get that out. “Can I carry your stuff for you? That’s absolutely no problem!”

“I’m fine,” you whisper, but when Kita clears his throat pointedly you relinquish your bag to him 

Ginjima makes sure to handle it with the utmost care, trying not to smile too brightly as he walks you out. Kita chose him for this job!

“Do you have a cold?” He asks as you walk. “Tsumu had it last week.”

“No, I don’t have a cold.” Your hands press against your stomach.

“Oh, a stomach bug then? Did you have the curry too today? I heard it wasn’t very good.”

“No… No, I didn’t.”

“Oh, what is it then? Do you have diarrhea?”

Your face pales and he goes almost cross-eyed looking for a trashcan to puke into. Instead, he finds a girl who’s pointing… at you.

“Are you for real?” She asks, voice shrill. “You’re a manager?”

“Who are you?” Ginjima asks, already pissed at the way she asked. 

“Who are you?” She asks back. “And what lame kind of sport do you do that you allow Fatty over here to join?”

“What the hell-” He starts, hands balled to fists. “Who do you think you are?!”

She scoffs. “Like you need to know that, loser. Bye Fatty. I’ll see you.” She laughs and runs off and Ginjima has to grind his teeth to keep where he is instead of running after her.

After all, you’re still sick and Kita entrusted you to him!

“Are you okay?” He asks, turning back to you. “Do you know who that bitch is?”

You gasp.

“What?” He asks. “Like she didn’t deserve that title! You’re not fat. My uncle is fat but even if you were that’s no way to talk about you like that! She needs a good beating if you ask me.”

You look up at him, eyes welled up with tears. Your mouth opens and closes and he kinda has to guess what you want to know.

“My uncle?” He guess. “He’s got a disease… I can’t name it properly, but when he was my age he couldn’t move at all because of it and he got so depressed only food gave him a source of comfort. He’s a lot better now but he’s still got plenty of weight. Not that that drags him down if you’ll excuse that joke.” Ginjima can’t help but smile as he thinks of Uncle Keiji.

You shake your head and sniff.

“Oh, you need a tissue?” He pats down his jacket but comes up empty. “Here,” he slips out of it, “Just wipe your nose on it, I’ll wash it today, no problem.”

That’s when you start laughing, his jacket clutched in your hands.

He laughs along, a little confused, but hey, he got you cheered up again.

-

You don’t look up when the door opens. But the rest of your class does.

“It’s Miya Atsumu!” One of the girls whispers, clearly shocked.

“And his twin!” Someone else mutters equally impressed.

Ginjima leans around them and finds you easily, head bowed over a Bento Box.

“Hey!” He calls out to you. “You coming? We’re going up to the roof to eat.”

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish.

“Come on,” Suna’s voice drawls out lazily, “We don’t have all day.” 

You nod, clearly confused, and grab your stuff, rush toward them.

“Who did you say was that bitch again,” Atsumu asks just as you’re a few steps from the door. 

Ginjima pokes his head in again and smiles at the girl in question, baring his teeth. 

“If you guys mess with our manager again,” Samu declares calmly, inspecting his fingernails, “Getting banned from our games will be the least of our problems. Are we clear?”

- - - xxx - - -

“Thank you for taking the time,” Kita closes the door behind him and smiles. The little storage room is cramped but filled with light from the evening sun.

“You wanted to talk to me?” You ask, hands fiddling. You haven’t lost your anxious ticks even after all these months.

“I’m resigning today,” he explains calmly. “It’s time to graduate. I thought Atsumu would be a good Captain. What do you think?”

You blink away a stubborn tear that won’t stay inside.

“He’ll need a little help,” you sniff, working against the lump in your throat. “But I’m sure he will do great.”

“You’ll help him, right?”

You nod, swallowing thickly. Kita’s warm hands land on your shoulders.

“Do you have any plans for the break?”

“No, not really.”

“Would you like to stay with us for those few weeks?”

You freeze. 

“Are you… are you sure?”

“Yes. Granny would love you. I’m sure your parents won’t mind and you can help me with the harvest if you want. Or stay inside and help Granny with the house.”

Silence enfolds between you. 

Eventually, with the warmest voice you’ve ever heard from him, he says “I’ve never had a little sister, but if I did… I’d want her to be like you.”

-

Ginjima’s eyes zero in on yours - surely red rimmed from all the bittersweet tears - but he doesn’t say anything. 

Not long and Tsumu’s crying too, wiping his nose on his sleeve as Osamu blinks up into the sun, acting like he doesn’t care at all - the liar.

It’s hard, saying goodbye to the third years.

It will be different with them there, Aran’s daily blessings and Ōmimi’s book recommendations, Akagi’s silly jokes, and Kita’s calmness. 

It will be different, but it won’t be bad. Not with all your friends around you.

“I entrust this Club to you,” Kita reminds Tsumu again as he leaves. “Every member and our shared goal. And don’t forget our dear manager.”

-

“What are you doing over the break?” Ginjima asks later as you wait for the bus.

Your hands fold around the seam of your skirt and you pinch it as if you remind yourself that this is real.

“I’m staying with Kita,” you tell him proudly, “He asked me to come.”

“Oh,” he makes and falls quiet.

“And you?”

“Training, I guess.” He pulls his shoulders up. “Text me when you get back, okay?”

“Okay.”

- - - xxx - - -

Another graduation comes much too soon. 

Riseki’s crying this time, the captain’s title heavy on his shoulders.

“Ah, like you’d forget us,” Tsumu says but his voice is heavy with emotion.

Samu’s looking up and squinting into the sun, one of his eyes impressively bruised to match Tsumu. They’ve gotten into a fight this week and even though they refused to talk about it, everyone knows what it’s about.

-

“You coming in tomorrow?” Ginjima asks as he walks you home, the last bus long gone.

“For your graduation? Like I’d miss that.”

He smiles, fiddling something between his hands.

“You know, about that tradition… the second button… Did you get one so far?”

You laugh. “A second button? No way I’d get one.”

“But would you want one?”

You blink up at him. “Why would I want one?”

“Ah,” he smiles, “Just asking. Don’t all girls want one?”

“I dunno. Depends on the boy, I guess. Would you want one? From a girl, I mean?”

He blushes furiously and you snicker, digging your elbow into his side.

“Come on, tell me. Who is it you like?”

His smile turns pained and you step away. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to push you. It’s your decision to tell me.”

“Thank you. Though, I guess…” He holds out his hand. In it lies a button. “I think I should give it to you. For safekeeping, you know.”

“You don’t think she’ll accept it?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he tells you, voice strained, “I’m not allowed to date her anyway.”

“Oh, that sucks.” You pick the button from his hands and hold it up to the light. “But if you entrust me with it I will keep it safe until it changes. Would that be okay?”

He nods, redfaced, clearly unable to speak. 

You tap his elbow with yours and walk on, slowly. 

“Did I tell you about my summer plans?” You ask. “Kita got me a job at an accounting firm in Osaka. It’s nothing much but he thinks I might like it. What are your plans?”

-

Your hand is on Riseki’s shoulder and you’re crying along. 

It’s different when you’re the one who’s leaving. Fresh-faced first-years look back at you. The second years mourn the games they could have played - lost to Karasuno yet again. 

A new manager will help them go on and though you doubt the friendship will stay beyond these gym doors, you’ve burned her kindness into your heart.

“And don’t forget,” Riseki reminds them one last time, “Kita-san’s rule! Do not date the manager!”

You stop and turn, the tears forgotten for a moment.

“What?” You ask, not unlike a few of the boys who’ve been eyeing sweet Oyama for the better part of last year.

Riseki stumbles, clearly confused by the question.

“Yeah, he told us when you came in. It was very important to him so it must be important for the team. Keep that in mind, will you!”

They agree, some more, some less eager. 

You resolve to ask Kita about it the next chance you get. After all he promised to come in tomorrow for your graduation.

- - - xxx - - -

“Ginjima!” You hug him, tears streaming from your eyes. “You came? What a surprise!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” He says, proud that it succeeded. “The rest of the gang is also here!”

“Heeeyy!” Suna waves lazily. There’s also Tsumu and Samu, fighting over a Bento Box like in the good old days, and Aran who’s blessing you with one of his well-missed head pats. 

Akagi drags Ōmimi and Kosaku over and for a moment, too short but still so precious, it feels like nothing changed.

“These are my parents!” You introduce them, grinning from one ear to the other. “Do you mind if I go out to eat with the boys?”

The boys. Ginjima’s heart sinks and lifts at the same time. He’s nothing but one of the boys.

Not like Kita who addresses your parents by first name.

But, he thinks when you fall into step with him, whispering how you’ve still got that second button if he needs it, not all hope is lost, right?

-

“Sit next to me,” he asks when you find chairs at the Izakaya. Half the team grins knowingly but you still don’t get it.

“No, no, I insist,” He pushes your hand back when you try to pay for your food. “It’s on me.”

“Let me walk you home, please.” He asks when they gather outside. 

Tomorrow he’s going to be back in Osaka where his job waits for him. 

Tomorrow you’ll be nothing but a too vivid memory of something that never got to be real.

Tonight you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever laid his eyes on.

“Sure,” you say, waving at the others, promises of meeting up soon hanging in the air. It’s been a year. It never gets easier.

But still, he leaves without a kiss, without a confession, without anything that means anything.

Because he can see it in your eyes, wide and warm and lovely, that you don’t get it. Maybe you never will.

But that’s okay. Or at least it will be okay someday.

- - - xxx - - -

“So you’re staying?” Samu asks as he plates the food. “For real?”

“For real!” You agree, breaking apart the chopsticks. “What should I try first?” 

“Whatever you want. Everything’s good.”

“Wow, what about being humble?” You ask, digging in.

He laughs. “When have I ever been humble?”

“A lot,” you point out, mouth full. “Gosh this is good. Tsumu was always more arrogant.”

“True,” he jokes. “Have you seen him lately?”

You shake your head. 

“Suna? Aran? No wait, Kita.”

You snort. “I see Kita at least once a month. That’s not news.”

“Ah yes, Kita, the love of your life.” Samu swoons, clutching his chest. You furrow your brows.

“What do you mean?”

“What?” Samu grins. “You’ve been a thing since when, his graduation?”

You choke on a bit of Onigiri. “What?! No! EW!”

“What?” Samu laughs disbelievingly. “I mean Ginjima told me you went to his place for the break. That’s kinda like making it official.”

“NO!” You belt out, horrified. “That’s what you all thought? But I was… But he is… We’ve always been more like brother and sister.”

Samu shrugs. “I mean he never seemed to mind that Ginjima was head over heels for you, so I didn’t bother-”

Your jaw slackens. “What?” You ask, voice breaking. “Ginjima was what?”

Samu halts, bottle of soy sauce in his hands.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”

“How would I know?”

“How would you not?! He’s got a crush on you since the day you started! Kita made it very clear though that no one was allowed to ask you out and Suna thought it was because he called dibs on you… Are you okay?”

You shake your head.

If he’d pulled the floor from under your feet you couldn’t have been more at a loss.

“Oh my god. I still have his second button.”

“Who’s?” Samu asks, taking a piece of Nigiri Sushi from your plate and popping it into his mouth. 

“Ginjima’s.”

“Damn. That guy was bold. I mean I was never fully sure you were dating Kita after all, but at least Ginjima was convinced that you liked him more than him.”

“As a brother, maybe.” You huff, heart beating. Everything looks different now, looking back, with that information in mind.

“You need Sake?” Samu asks, voice comforting. “Or Soju?”

-

Sleep isn’t coming to you these days.

Kita’s explanations made sense - you had been afraid of everyone breathing back then, scared shitless every time someone other than him or Aran tried to speak to you - and you couldn’t hold it against him that he tried to protect you.

You’d have to talk to their current Captain though, to make sure that ridiculous rule wasn’t still in use.

You’d have to talk to Ginjima too at one point. But you don’t know what to say yet.

If you think of him now, all the moments you’ve been through together, the little things stand out so much more.

How he’d always been so eager to help, always wanting to talk.

How often he blushed around you. 

How he defended you, told the other second years - no doubt that whole plan had been his idea. 

You can’t think about all those quiet walks home, side by side yet barely touching, how he asked about your day and told you of his, without curling into a ball, warmth filling you to the point of overflowing.

If Kita’s the warmth of a fireplace in winter, a spot to stay safe and comforted, Ginjima is the warmth of the spring sun, guiding you outside. He’s the bright blue sky on summer days that makes you want to stay awake forever.

And every night, without fail, you pull his second button from its safe place and rest it where it had been on his blazer, on the place closest to your heart.

-

Ginjima works as a Gym Instructor now, not far from where you work.

Twice you’ve walked by and chickened out. You’re not sure you’ll be more successful today.

This time, though, you spot him through the tall windows. 

He looks just like the last time you were a team, a towel slung around his shoulders.

It’s that sight that gives you the push you need and you step into the Gym, heart beating in your throat.

He turns and spots you, surprise widening his face. It reminds you of the first time you’ve met and your heart beats even faster.

“Hey!” He rushes over, almost tripping over a weight. “What brings you here.”

“I have something for you.” You stretch out your hand.

Ginjima stops and stares.

“I…” He starts, face split between confusion and pain he’s trying to hide. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s mine,” you explain nervously. “Samu told me… That you had a crush on me.”

“What?” He blushes furiously. “He told you what?”

“And that everyone thought I was dating Kita. We’re just... We’re just friends. Like brother and sister, actually. I didn’t know… I didn’t know you liked me,” your voice is getting lower but his eyes are wide.

“How could I not like you? You’re literally perfect!” He shouts and from somewhere behind him you can hear a voice shushing him.

You snort and he laughs, flustered, hand moving to take yours - and the button.

“And the No Date Rule?” Ginjima asks as if he’d only just remembered it.

“Officially no longer valid.”

- - - xxx - - -

“Lovebirds are in!” Tsumu declares loudly from the bar as the door opens. Ginjima shoots his cap at him, whistling in victory when he hits him square in the head.

“Don’t fight,” you chide behind him, your hand in his. “Are we late?”

“Nah,” Riseki waves from the other side, “Like you’d ever be. Ginjima should be glad to have you.”

“I am!” He declares. “Who’s questioning it?!”

“No one,” Kosaku drawls, hugging you as he moves toward the bathroom. But have some mercy on the single guys.”

“Hey, I could have a girlfriend if I wanted to!” Tsumu points out, followed by laughter.

On nights like this, when they all get together to watch one of them on TV - today it’s Aran - things hardly ever calm down.

But he wouldn’t change this for the world, not even when he has to work a shift tomorrow.

It reminds him of being young and a fool like he’s got nothing to lose and yet so much to fight for.

And when you curl into his side on the Couch, cheer him on when he manages to eat his bowl of soup faster than Tsumu, or defend him against Suna’s jabs he knows that nothing much has changed.

He’s still a fool in love.

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[beansmack2021]

Scrambled Eggs (Pt. 2)

TW: Mentions of abandonment/neglect, screaming matches, not totally canon

Y/N is 15

She tried to pretend she couldn't hear her brothers screaming at each other. Warring with their words had always been their specialty when things went wrong. At least they were in the bunker, and not some dingy motel. If this were years before, she'd have to sit in the corner, drawing or doing her homework with some music playing through her headphones and try not to cry while they just went at each other in the tiny space.

At least now that Y/N had her own room in the bunker, the sound was muffled. She could still hear a decent bit of what was being screamed, but if she put her headphones on, she would be able to tune it all out.

She didn't want to tune it all out, though. She wanted to hear everything. She wanted to know why Sammy left her even more than Dean did. She'd strain when they'd quiet down for a moment or two. Sam's mumbled responses only seemed to make Dean angrier though, because he'd start yelling something along the lines of "she's 15! I don't care what the hell your problem was! You were supposed to be here! We made a deal!"

She knew what the deal was, even though they'd never said anything about it whilst directly before her. It was an unwritten rule: if something happens to me, it's your job to watch and look after Y/N.

Y/N decided she'd had enough of trying to melt into the walls to hear their conversation. She opened her door as quietly as she could, practically tiptoeing down the hall. Her brothers' voices became louder and clearer the closer to the library she got.

She'd caught the tail end of Sam's soft response to whatever question Dean had screamed moments before. "She looks like you, she acts like you. She missed you so much but it was like she didn't notice how much being around her felt like someone twisting a knife to me." Y/N's stomach plummeted. Her heart caught in her throat and tears welled up in her eyes. She'd chased her brother away and didn't even have to do anything.

"I don't fucking care what she looks like or what she acts like. It doesn't matter! She's our little sister, and she needed you and you fucking abandoned her. You're a coward, Sam." She sniffled, and both of the men snap their heads in her direction. She tries not to cry, but the tears come rolling down her face.

Dean crosses the room without saying anything, picking her up. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist, laying her head in the crook of his neck. She breathes deeply, taking in the smell of his shampoo, and noting that even though he'd taken a shower, she could still faintly make out the smell of dirt.

Dean put a hand on her back, whispering to her. "It's okay, peanut. I'm here." He hadn't called Y/N peanut since she was much younger. At the moment, though, she was frail and teary eyed like a little kid. "Do you want to go get some food?" She nodded at his offer and he started walking, refusing to put her down.

She lifted her head as they were leaving the room, locking eyes with Sam. He had tears running down his cheeks, his mouth slightly parted, and he emanated regret and self-loathing.

She didn't care. He left her.

She nuzzled her forehead back into the crook of Dean's neck, sighing in relief. She had her big brother back. She knew he'd never leave, at least not willingly.

[topmalereaderblog]

Captain John Price // Fluff ABC 🌸

A - Affection (How do they show their love):

He shows his affection by displaying it. He isn't scared of what others think, and with the line of work you both have, anything can happen, so he would love to have you in his arms and vice versa.

B - Beauty (What made them fall for you):

He loves the fact that you're committed to your work, but what sealed the deal for him would be your loyalty to those you trust and how much people respect you. Hell, when you take charge of a situation, he can feel your authority just like everyone else and would admire how responsible you are.

“Okay, everyone, this is what we're gonna do….”

“Captain, are you okay?” Soap asked as you decided to take control.

“Um- Yeah, Yeah, I'm fine; why?” he responded. 

“You look distracted,” soap smirked.

John felt himself turn red at that moment and just wanted to die; lucky everyone else was too busy listening to you to realize what was happening.

C - Caring (How do they show they care):

He listens and pays attention to everything you say to him. Everything about you is important, so he would make an effort to try and remember what it is that you said to try and impress you. He would also show he cares about you by ensuring you're safe, comfortable, and well-situated.

“Shit, it's fucking freezing,” you said as you wrapped your arms around yourself. 

“Here, take my coat,” he said, getting ready to remove it. 

“It's fine-”

“I insist; please take it. I’m not taking no for an answer,” he said, looking at you with his coat in his hands.

“Fine, but only if we take turns,” you told him.“Okay,” he smiled at himself, feeling warmer than usual, even out in the cold.

D - Domestic (How do they like to spend time):

When he and you take a break from work, he wants to spend every moment with you. It's the only time when you both don't have to worry much about being responsible and get to let loose. He also loves having actual date nights with you and getting to know the more domestic side of you.

The smell of bacon and eggs was very prominent around the apartment as John woke up from a good sleep, hearing music as he opened the door to the small hallway.

“Oh, say you'll always be my baby; we can make it shine” John smiles to himself as you move your hips and sing. 

“We can take forever, just a minute at a time, ah.” 

“More than a woman” John decides to join your small party holding a spatula.

E - Entertainment (What do they do for fun):

Gardening; he grew up in Herefordshire, where they are big on agriculture, and it is no surprise that he likes gardens too. He has your tiny balcony filled with plants, which you also help maintain. He loves the fact that you're willing to help and that you care just as much as he does for wildlife. He also likes to draw something about himself that gives me that idea.

“John, that's pretty good,” you complimented him as he drew the landscape from your balcony.

“You think?” he asked, his eyes still focused on the canvas in front of him.

“Yes, babe, we should have it framed and hung in the living room,” you told him and gave him a quick peck on his cheek, leaving him to ensure you were not bothering. 

John just smiles to himself, the tip of his ears red and his chest puffing with pride.

F - Family (Do they want a family):

He definitely wants a family with you, but first, he would love to ensure you both have the necessary resources to care for children. Once those kids are ready to move out of the womb, expect to see him cry.  “I just got news of the surrogate,” you yelled as you ran to him. “What is it? Is she fine?” he asked with panic in his voice. “We're gonna be dads!” you yelled as you tackled him to the ground, “Really-” he asked with disbelief as he settled the new information. “I'm gonna be a dad!” he asked, shouting while you both were hugging, still on the ground with tears in his eyes.

G - Gentle  (How do they destress):

He loves it when you give him a good message as a destresser. It gets the job done and also helps him relax after a long day of work. He also loves taking baths with you, most preferably with his back against your chest he likes feeling your arms wrapped around him.  “Thank you, lover boy, it feels good,” John said as you rubbed his back. “It's okay, John, just relax, okay,” you replied. “Mmm” was all he said as he slowly fell asleep. 

H - Home (What's their dream home):

His dream home is living in the countryside with you, with a beautiful home with a wrapped-around porch and lots of land to farm in. I would assume there would also be a small section saved for a playground for any future kids. He would also have a nice porch swing built for the both of you to enjoy. The home itself would be very taken care of after all; that's where the both of you will grow old.  “You know, one day I want to own a farm where I grew up,'' John said as you were both lying in bed.  “That sounds very nice and peaceful compared to the city,” you said as you turned to look at him.  “I'm gonna marry you and give you kids someday and also give you the home you want, you know that, right,” you said as you kissed his lips. “Well see, lover boy, Well see,” he said, smiling and kissing you back. 

I - Interactions (How do they communicate):

You both are very open with communication. You don't keep secrets, and when something is wrong, you tell each other straight away. You both also do this thing where if there's a heated argument, you both will walk away and talk to each other when things cool down on both sides. You also have a truth jar where when you both are too scared to say something, you write it down, and the other pulls it out and reads it. Usually containing dirty secrets. “I put something in the jar,” John asked as you approached him.  “Okay, well, let's read it,”' you said as he nodded with a red face. He saw as you began to read the small note.  “Well then, why don't we get prepared? '' You smirked.  “Okay,” he said, now speed-walking to your shared bedroom. 

J - Jealousy (Do they get jealous):

Yes, you both get jealous, but it's not your actions that make each other jealous, it's the fact that people walk up to you attempting to flirt that gets you both riled up, and this is where the communication stuff comes in. You both talk it up and try to understand each other as much as possible. However, other than that, you both hardly get jealous and laugh at the situation later.  “You know she's not that cute, right,” you told a pouting John. “You think-”  “Oh, trust me, I know, so besides, with all that makeup, she should be in a circus,” you said as he chuckled. “Well played, just saved yourself a breakup,” he said as you both began to laugh at the situation. 

K - Kisses (How do they like to kiss):

He loves kisses in general, whether it be on his cheek or lips; he doesn't really care so long as he gets a kiss at least once per day. If you are both on a mission, you always make sure you have a kiss goodbye just in case things go sideways and also just for reassurance since he wants to make sure you are actually there. “Okay, ready?” John looked at you with worry in his eyes. “Yup- don't die, please,” you said to John as you finished putting on your uniforms. “I'll try not to,” he smirked as he started walking out. John felt a hand on his hips as he was pushed to the wall, suddenly feeling lips on his own. “Just in case,” you walked out, leaving a flustered Captain. 

L - Love (Who says “I love you” first):

He was the first to say, “I love you ''. It was after a mission, and you got badly injured on his watch. He felt extremely guilty and stayed with you as you were knocked out in a hospital bed. He honestly didn't know what came over him, but he just said it as if something had taken over his body. Maybe it was guilt or sadness or emotions that have bottled up with time that is now being released. He didn't care much at that moment; all he knew was that he loved you, and that's all that mattered.  “I… I- I love you,” John said as he held your hand while you were asleep. “I know you can hear me, so please - please don't leave me not yet, okay?” he said in a questioning tone.  “I love you, M/N, just keep fighting; please wake up soon,” he said as he got up to leave since it was pretty late.

M - Marriage (Do they want to get married):

There's no questioning it. John is a very simple yet traditional man with high morals, which means he only dates to marry and waits until marriage for the devil's tango. Still, since he joined his job at a relatively young age, he has zero experience, and no one has interested him much, well, at least until you showed up. “Look, I'm going to be honest with you” he took a deep breath. “I never dated anyone, and I usually always told myself to date if I know I want to get married, but my job hasn't given me much time to look, if you get what I mean.”  “But when I told you I loved you, it was true, and I hope you understand,” he ended, waiting for a response.  “Well, I guess I'm gonna have to be your first and your last,” you said with a smile as you hugged him. “I love you, John, and I'm willing to wait for as long as you need, okay….”  “Okay”

N - Nicknames (What pet/nicknames do you have for each other):

His nickname to you is ‘lover boy.’ He got that nickname for you when you both were talking about your future together, and with his hopelessly romantic self, it just felt right at the moment.  His nickname is something simple, nothing too extravagant it's just babe, but as a way to tease him, you also call him Captain very often as well. I mean, in reality, it was basically the first thing you called him when you met.  “Good afternoon, Captain,” you said as you walked past him into the bathroom. “I'm gonna be Captain from now on?” John looked at you with a smirk. “Depends if you can listen to orders, Captain~,” you said teasingly. “Well then, lover boy, what's my first assignment?”  “Wash the dishes I cooked you clean,” you said with a chuckle as you went to the closet. “You know what I meant” he yelled as he chuckled and walked to the kitchen. 

O - Opposites (What's something you don't have in common):

You guys have a lot in common, but something that stands out is your love for comic books. He finds your hobby cute, especially when you tell him about it and just start rambling on and on about it. But it's not something he usually reads though he did like one comic, which is most like Batman.

P - Proposal (How do they propose):

You both proposed simultaneously. Since you're both pretty romantic, you both decided to propose during your anniversary of being together, which happened to land on a day when you had a mission. After returning back to the base, you both wasted no time in dropping to your knee. The task force was very supportive, but they also found it funny that you both had the same idea. As you and the task force walked back to the force, you sped up to John, who was talking to Simon. “John, I have something to ask,” you said nervously.  “I do, too, but do you want to go first? I can-” “How about we just both say it at the same time, then explain, yeah….” you said with a small smile. John was definitely contemplating and fighting his thoughts. “Okay,” he said with a deep breath. “WILL YOU MARRY ME” 

Q - Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing):

His favorite non-modern thing to do with you is gardening and taking walks, depending on your location. Though there was this one time when you both decided to slow dance together in your living room. “I love you,” John said as you both swayed to the soft music. “I love you too, babe,” you said as you stared into his eyes and kissed him softly. “Until we're old and gray,” you said as you leaned back from the kiss. “Until we're old and gray,” he repeated, going in for another kiss.

R - Respect (How do they show/earn/get respect):

He respected you long before you got together. As I mentioned, you were very professional and responsible with your job, and it was very inspiring with how much effort you put into it. However, when you got together, that respect definitely went up a lot higher. 

S - Sleeping (How do they usually sleep):

You both are hopeless romantics, and no one can say otherwise. You both like physical contact, and with your jobs, it just reinforces it even more. Though he does snore a bit, but not often either. You both take turns to see who will be, the big spoon and the little spoon.  You woke up to the feeling of John pressing his back against your chest, mostly to a bad dream.  “I'm here, babe; it's okay.” “Mm~”  You kissed his forehead and went back to sleep with the man you loved in your arms. 

T - Teamwork (How well do you work with each other):

You guys ride or die; literally, you're always there for each other and making sure the other is safe, and when you both go into a relationship, it's no different. You're always looking out for one another and ensuring the other is okay.  “You both are so gross,” Soap said as you and John kissed. “You just wish you had someone like that,” said Gaz as he walked away. “Take that back, you little shit,” he yelled, chasing after Gaz. 

U - Unique (What something they do that makes them stand out):

His ability to live in harsh conditions. That is something you always found unique about him. He's gotten so used to being out on the field that every move he makes is always so strategized and very well calculated, and the fact that he never gives up. He also loves to build stuff for the house; when you both eventually marry and settle, he will build a nursery for your future child. 

“I have something to show you,” John said as you were watering the plants.

“Okay,” you said,d following him.

“Remember when I said you couldn't enter the room because I was working on a surprise?” “And let me guess, you're done?” you said, smiling.  “Yup- Okay, close your eyes and no peeking.” “Okay,” you said.  “Open them,” John asked as you opened your eyes slowly and looked around the nursery. “What do you think?”  “John, it's beautiful, l,” you said as you felt your eyes become watery.  “I love you,” you said, kissing him.

V - Vanity (Something they are proud of):

His beard and body. Let's be honest; he worked hard for his body and beard. I would say he is very proud of those things. But what gets his chest puffing with pride is when you announce him as your husband after you get married. “It's so nice to see you again,” said an old friend of yours.  “Hey, it's been so long,” you said.  “This is my husband, John.” “Hello,” he said with a proud smile.

W - Wedding (What's their dream wedding):

I would assume you're both getting ready to settle down. Your wedding isn't anything that is spectacular, something small with a few friends and family. There was definitely a cry on both parts, and you were both very happy that after all you've gone through together, you're finally getting your happy ending.  “I told you I'll marry you someday,” you said as you slowly danced together.“Well, looks like you did, lover boy,” He said, kissing you. (10 years later) “I love you, lover boy,” John said as you slowly danced in the living room of your home. “Papa! Daddy!” Your five-year-old came down, running to you. “Hi, buddy, what's up?” John said, holding him as you wrapped your arms around him.  “Look It, me, Papa, and you,” he said, holding a drawing. “Wow, let's hang it in the fridge, yah,” you said as your boy shook his head enthusiastically. (20 years later) “Looks like I completed my longest mission,” you said to John as you were both swinging and the porch swing.  “Yeah? What is it?” John asked.  “Well, I got married to you, I gave you the house you wanted, and we had kids together, and now we're old and gray,” you said to him as you kissed his knuckles. “Well, I guess you did, lover boy,” he said as he rested his head on your shoulders. 

X - Xaern (What do they enjoy):

He likes being helpful as much as possible if you need help. He is there in a heartbeat to support you however he can. He also enjoys watching movies while cuddling or, if you're up to it, slow dancing with him. Who knew that one dance would become a regular occurrence. 

Y - Yearning (How often do they want to spend time):

He loves you so much and can be away from you for long periods, but once you're reunited, you're practically inseparable and are always found at each other's side. Not only that, but you both believe that couples should spend as much time together as possible with alone time periodically.

Z - Zoo (Do they want any pets):

As I mentioned, you both would live on a farm eventually, so farm animals are guaranteed, and those are considered your pets. Though you would also have a dog or two running around the place, either dalmatians or german shepherds. Maybe both, but those are the ones I can see the most. 

[prettymuchteddy]

Just a Man

Summary: When the king falters his queen is always there by his side

Pairing: Aegon the 3rd Targaryen x Jaehaera Targaryen

Warning: Language, implied PTSD, panic attack, small spoilers to Fire and Blood, angst

Words: 715

A/N: I swear everything I write about these two happens at 1 AM

Aegon was sitting in another small council meeting. He was unsure of where his mind was until he noticed the trembling in his hands. His eyes shifted toward the man with pale hair seated beside him. Aegon leaned close to him and whispered one instruction into his ear.

“Get my wife, now.”

Aegon wasn’t sure what happened next. He was sure that he ordered his lords out of the council meeting. Somewhere there he heard himself yelling because they weren't leaving fast enough. He was curled up on the floor when an argument broke outside the council room.

“The king said to let her in,” Gaemon’s voice rose against someone else.

“A maester is better suited to help his grace,” someone responded.

“Let her in,” Aegon ordered from his place in the corner.

“But your grace what can she do that a maester can’t?” Someone dared ask.

Aegon snapped “, I’m not asking for a maester am I, my lord? I’m asking for my fucking wife.”

The doors were opened. Aegon lifted his eyes up. Gaemon walked inside and following closely was Jaehaera. She turned back to Gaemon and asked him something. His friend responded before closing the door behind him. The noise outside the council room seemed to move away.

“Aegon, I’m here.” She moved toward his side. “I asked Ser Gaemon to take the lords away.”

His hands were shaking. She grabbed them. 

“It’s alright, it's just the two of us now.”  

His eyes wavered. Jaehaera sat beside him on the floor.

“What do you need me to do?” She asked. 

The pounding in his ears was still prevalent. He couldn’t focus well on her voice.

“Do you want me to get you something?” “No.” He shook his head. “Please just stay with me.”

Jaehaera nodded. She shifted to position herself in front of him. Gently she cupped his face. 

He leaned forward and nestled his face into her neck. His arm reached back and pulled her close. He was terrified that she would freeze or become limp in his grasp. If he scared her away, he wouldn’t forgive himself.

His thoughts went silent when her fingers ran through his hair. That was all it took for him to begin to cry. He hated himself at that moment, how quickly he broke and turned into a hysterical child. This was the king of the seven kingdoms. Pathetic, he thought to himself.      

Jaehaera stroked his hair while he sobbed into her embrace. He thanked the Gods for the patience they gave his wife as she said nothing until he slowly stopped. She held him at that point. The smell of her skin reminded him of the wildflowers in the Godswood. The soft beating of her heart was the only thing he heard. Tear stains formed on the neckline of her dress. He felt guilty when he noticed. 

“Are you alright?” She asked in a quiet voice.

He managed a nod against her skin.

“Do you wish to speak about it?”

He remained silent. That said enough.

“Do you want water, Egg?” She paused a moment. “Do mind if I call you Egg?”

“You already have,” he pointed out. “I don’t mind.”

“I simply don’t want to call you something you don’t like.”

“Jaehaera, we’ve been married for years and have a child, you can call me whatever you please.”

“Just being sure, my lord husband.”

“Never mind any name except that. I hate that,” he said bluntly.

“How quickly you change your mind, my lord.” There was a hint of amusement in her tone.

Aegon lifted his head up, looking her in the eyes. “Don’t call me that either. Don’t call me anything to do with my station or title. You’re not below me, you just saw a king cry after all.”

Jaehaera brushed away the dried tears on his cheeks. 

Aegon sniffled. “Thank you.”

“Of course, you called.”

“Not that. Thank you for staying.”

Jaehaera smiled. “I always will.”

Aegon remembered the memories that set him off earlier. Memories from the war…of them.

“Don’t make promises you aren’t sure you’ll keep,” he whispered.

She seemingly noticed his change in demeanor and leaned closer. “I’m staying Aegon, now and until the end.”

Aegon found himself agreeing. Just them now and until the end.

I like to think that this is a first step to them getting close to each other and only a few others like Gaemon are aware of Aegon's panic attacks

[ophelieverse]

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰Dragonhearts.

Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader.

Your and Aemond kids are just like him,they absolutely love their dragons.

This is my first fic,so be kind to me.Also english is not my first language,so i’m sorry if there is any errors.

•••••••

It was a quiet sunny day in King’s Landing,the long summer was at it end but the golden rays of the sun still shined through the clouds above the city.

Y/n was sitting on a blanket on the green grass of one of the hills out of the Red Keep,besides her was her sister in law Helaena and Queen Alicent,all three of them enjoying the warm sun and the beautiful weather away from any political issues just for one day.

«He looks so much like Aemond did at his age.»the Queen voice was sweet and tender,her brown eyes sparkling while she looked at one of her grandchildren playing in the green field with his cousin.

Aedion was Y/n and Aemond second child and just like his grandmother said,he was the perfect copy of his father.From his pale blonde hair,his lavander curious eyes and his way to prove himself in everything he did,he reassemble Y/n dear husband in everything.

Y/n smiled,looking softly at her son who was just eight years old«He also acts like Aemond.That creature is the only thing he talks about.»the young princess said,pointing with her free hand towards where the children where playing.

Aedion and Jaehaerys,Aegon and Helaena first son,we’re holding a little wooden stick and using it as a fake sword,similar to the ones they used during their training with Ser Criston in the yard.Besides them two dragons,no bigger than a horse,were watching them like guard dogs in case something happened.

Y/n had met Aemond when she was just a young Lady and she immediately fell for the charming prince.It was no secret that her husband was very enthusiastic whenever the topic of their conversation shifted to dragons,she remember during their courting time that she had listened to him talking for hours about the little adventures that he lived with Vhagar.She also remembered the first time he introduced them to each other,his old favorite girl to his new favorite girl like he once said,and the first time he took her on a fly with him.The way she held him close,the wind between her hair and the euphoric feeling that washed over her.

That day Y/n nderstood why her husband was so passionate about dragons and it was clear that the trait passed down to their children.

«Oh no»Helaena said with a little smile«my brother was so much worse.He was just like little Visenya.»said the princess now turning her head to look at her son and nephew.

Y/n smiled sadly,a hand caressing her growing belly where her fourth child was and thinking about her daughter.Visenya,only five years old,the girl Aemond prayed so much for and that he named after Vhagar first rider was dragonless.

Unfortunately,at her birth there was no left dragon eggs at Dragonpit.Both Rhaenyra and Helaena promised the young princess that if one of her dragons laid eggs again one would have been for her.It’s been four years and her little crying face made both Y/n and Aemond’s hearth clench.

Alicent gave Y/n a firm squeeze on the shoulder and a reassuring smile«I know how powerless you must feel,but it’s not your fault.»she told her,with the loving voice that only a mother could have.

«I know»Y/n nodded«Aemond feels terrible every time that he have to console her.I just wish i could do something,anything to help her.»seeing her daughter that way always made her asking herself if this was the same way her husband felt when he was a kid.

«Visenya will a dragon one day»Alicent told her and it sounded more like an affirmation,like something she knew would been destined to happen«Just like Aemond did.»

«But then she’ll have nine fingers.»Helaena murmured quietly under her breath.

The girl besides her did register her words,because she was too focused on hearing what was coming from her son mouth.

Aedion and Jaehaerys where playing in front of them,pretending to be soldiers on a battlefield,laughing and attacking each other when Jaehaerys accidentally hit Aedion across his face.

«Children,careful!»Alicent called them out.

Y/n was getting up with Helaena help,holding her stomach and making her way towards her son to see if he was hurt or injured.When Aedion took his hand off his face,a blank stare was all he gave to his cousin before commanding his dragon who seemed hurt just like the young prince was.

«Hyperion»Aedion called his dragon close to him,the creature walked slowly besides him waiting«Drac-»

«Aedion!»Y/n shouted immediately before he could finished.

Helaena ran towards her son that,crying,throwed himself into his mother safe embrace.Alicent stood beside them,soothing her oldest grandson with sweet phrases,while Y/n walked fast to her own son.

«What where you thinking?»she asked her son,her heart pumping furiously in her chest fearing what could have happened if she didn’t stopped him in time.

Aedion had a little red sign on his face,right below his left eye where Jaehaerys hit him with his fake sword«I was taking revenge on my enemy.»he stated,trying to escape his mother accusing gaze.

«Thats not your enemy!Thats your cousin,we are a family and we don’t hurt each other like this!»Y/n was trying to not yell at her son to not scare him even more,but she was absolutely mortified about what happened and furious.

Aedion lower lip trembled just like Aemond did when he was about to cry«But he-»

His mother didn’t let him finish«I’m sure that Jaehaerys didn’t wanted to hurt you on purpose.But what you were about to do to him would have hurt him permanently.»she explained to him.

Aedion looked over at his dragon«Father says that i have to use my dragon because i have one.»

Y/n sighed,he was just like Aemond«Dragons are not objects,but since you and your father think this way you will be the one telling him why i forbid you to go at Dragonpit for the next two weeks.»she warned him with stern voice,she knew that she couldn’t keep her son away from that place for long but he had to lear his lesson and so will have his father.

The young prince cried in his mother arms,sobbing his eyes out while she caressed his hair«I’m sorry»he whispered.

Y/n shook her head,looking at Helaena and Alicent with the same tired smile that the two women gave her«You should apologize to your cousin,and then your aunt and grandmother.»she told him freeing him from her loving embrace and guiding him towards them.

«You did the right thing.»Alicent told her with a gentle smile,while Aedion continued to cry in her hug.

It was late evening when Aemond returned from his morning fly with his oldest son,Rhaegal,the young boy was now thirteen and his dragon was big enough to let him ride him.Aemond was more excited that his own son to teach him how to fly for the first time.

He didn’t have his father for that,actually he didn’t had anyone,all that he learned about a dragon he did on his very own and he didn’t want any of his children to have the same.

Y/n was sitting in their shared chambers a hand on her belly,stroking it with love,while she was sitting on a duvet waiting for her husband and son to come home.

«Mother!»the joyful sound of Rhaegal voice echoed through the walls.

The woman smiled,her oldest son white hair were a mess all over his head,his purple eyes were sparkling and his pale skin was sweaty.

Carefully Y/n stood up«Welcome back,sweetheart.How did your fly went?»she asked kissing him on the forehead.

«It was amazing!Darksmoke is even faster than Vhagar.»he stated proudly,his smile brighter that the sun.

Aemond came him a second later,his eyes immediately falling on his wife pregnant belly,before putting his hands on his son shoulders«What i told you was that “Darksmoke might become faster than Vhagar once she will not be able to fly anymore.”»he said playfully with a teasing smile on his beautiful face.

Rhaegal laughed a little«We went to Dragon Stone and there i beat father at a race.I even made Darksmoke turn upside down!»the young boy reminded Aemond of himself the first time he had Vhagar.

All his excitement to finally being able to fly with his siblings,all the little things he discovered with the time passing by,the feeling of being bonded some one other than himself.Some one he shared a mind and a piece of himself.

Y/n watched the two of them bicker with each other for a little,Aemond could sense the discomfort coming from his wife while she pretended to smile and being happy for the oldest son.

«Your mother and your little sister need to rest,»Aemond said his son«Go and take a bath,you smell like dragon.»he watched his son nodding his head,giving his mother a quick kiss and then leaving closing the door behind him.

«I promise that we were careful.»Aemond came closer to her,taking Y/n in a loving hug and pressing his cold lips to hers for a tender kiss.

Y/n smiled a little«I don’t know if i should believe that.»she teased her husband a little«But its not him that i’m worried for.»she added with a worrying voice.

Aemond brows furrowed in confusion,a slight spark of panic lighted in him,his hands immediately going to his wife belly«Did the Maester told you something about her?»he asked her.

«You still think it’s a girl?»Y/n asked her husband covering his hands with hers.

Aemond smiled«Helaena said it’s was another girl.»he told her sweetly.

Y/n heart seemed to be exploding in her chest,she knew about Helaena foresight and whenever she was expecting her sister in law was right about the gender every time.

«Another girl»Y/n breathed out,her eyes were glassy at the news and all those emotions started to overwhelmed her.

She was happy to have another baby girl after two sons and Visenya,but right now she had to discuss other important matters with her husband.

«Well,i thought you would’ve been more happy to hear it.»Aemond said going to take a cup and filling it with wine.

«I’am,but right now we have to talk about your son.»she stated firmly.

Aemond looked over her,confusion on his face«What happened?»

Y/n took a deep breath,she already knew what this was going to«He won’t go to Dragonpit for the next two weeks and he won’t see his dragon for that time.»she explained slowly.

Aemond froze,his hand resting the cup on the table,looking at his wife«What did you said?»he asked hoping he heard wrong.

But his wife stood firm before him«You heard him.No dragon for Aedion.»

«Not if i have a say on the matter.»Aemond said«He needs to stay with his dragon if he want to have a bond with him!»his voice was now raising.

«I think he bonded with that thing enough!A little time apart won’t hurt them!»now it was her time to raise her voice at her husband.

«You say that because you don’t-»

«Don’t what Aemond?Because I don’t have a dragon?Your son shouldn’t have one at his age,he’s eight!He doesn’t know what his doing!»her face was red,her breath short and being six months pregnant didn’t helped her at all in this moment.

Aemond walked to her again«All his cousins have dragons,in this family we put dragons eggs in the cribs once the babe is born and you know it.Aedion know what he’s doing and you won’t take away his birth right.»this topic always had a solid grip on her husband and Y/n could seen it in his eye,in the way the pure fire burned through it.

Y/n rolled her eyes«Your son almost killed his cousin this morning.I’m surprised that Aegon is not here to beat your ass for it!»she informed him.

In a second Aemond seemed to calm down,his shoulder relaxed and he started to breath through his nose again«What?Hows Jaehaerys?»he asked sitting down on the duvet.

Y/n took place next to him,holding his hands in hers«It was a mistake,i know he did not said in on purpose.»she started with soft voice.

«Y/n»Aemond urged her«What did he said?»

The woman breather in and out«They were playing when Jaehaerys accidentally hit him and Aedion…»

«Did the dragon followed his order?»Aemond voice was unsure,laced with concern and fear of what would have happened to his nephew.

His wife shook her head,that made him release the breath he was holding and closing his eye«Luckily i stepped in before he could finished his sentence.But still-»

Aemond nodded«But still he did the wrong thing.I can’t even imagine what would be doing now if you weren’t there.I will talk to him tonight,after i apologize to my sister and brother.»he said,pressing his forehead to hers.

«You don’t have to worry now,my love.We are fine and Aedion already feels horrible after what happened.»Y/n stated caressing her husband cheek before kissing it.

Aemond smiled,a genuine a loving smile that he reserved only for the woman that he loved with all his heart and that gave him the most precious things in this world,not dragons but his children.

«I know»he told her kissing her nose lovingly«thank you for being here,no matter what.»