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queers-gambit · 1 year ago

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Dornish Wine, Weddings, and Bruised Knuckles

prompt: your best friend's getting married and you've got a thing for her brother. during the bachelorette party, you learn maybe your affection wasn't so one-sided after all.

pairing: Modern Aemond Targaryen x female!reader also Helaena Targaryen x Cregan Stark

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 11.1k+

warnings: modern AU, cursing, male-centric aggression, mild violence, (more) against-a-wall smut, author uses writing as therapy so theres way too many details, implied character-age-up (they're all legal to drink), barely edited so be nice, author probably missed some warnings!

Dorne wasn't just the Seventh Kingdom that withheld against conquest the longest, but now extremely notorious for their epic party scene, luxury resorts, sex-positive atmosphere, and overall debauchery. Dorne was lively, Dorne was hip, Dorne was ever-changing and always current. Dorne set trends, created challenge, and showcased their always-evolving lifestyle. Dorne was bright, colorful, tropical, and forever warm to the bone; being the ideal hot-spot for those who had money to spend.

Dorne was where everything happened.

Dorne was the place to be.

Dorne was exactly the thing you needed after finishing an over-worked, grueling finals season at your university.

When you and your best friend met for coffee nearly a full year ago to tell you she and her fiancé were thinking of a destination wedding in Dorne, you felt your excitement spike to never-before-reached heights. You would've been ashamed at how fast you jumped at the chance to travel, but you didn't have the time! You've never been to Dorne, hardly anywhere really, but going to university in the country's capital meant you interacted with a lot of international peers. Many who told you endless stories about their drunken foolishness in the Seventh Kingdom, driving up your interest and want to visit.

And now the time had finally come.

"My family's already there," Helaena told you softly; both sitting in the exclusive first class cabin after boarding the aircraft, "so we'll have transport when we land, so we just have to worry about our luggage."

You nodded at her, "Sounds good."

She offered you a look, laughing, "Just say it - I know you want to."

You glanced up and down the aisle of the plane before quickly squealing and jogging in place, "This is so fucking cool!" Helaena laughed as you calmed down, telling her, "I feel so fucking fancy right now, you have no idea! I can't believe your dad's doing all this!"

You and Helaena were traveling together because you, one, you were her bridesmaid, and two, you had a similar final exam schedule; both pursuing advanced degrees that kept you wildly busy. So her family went ahead to the resort to make sure everything was as it needed to be, and now that you were both done with exams, you were heading for Dorne to kick off 10 full days of wedding shenanigans.

When you calmed down, Helaena asked with a small smirk, "You gonna be okay?" You held up a pill bottle with an eye roll, giving it a shake; emitting a rattle. "Oh, no... No, no, no, no, no, don't take an Ambien. You're gonna be so delierious when we get there!"

"I either drug myself now or you clean anxious puke off your lap later..."

She handed you her water bottle.

The entire craft was in the air within minutes; being able to recline your seat since you were flying fancy, covering up with the blankets the pretty flight attendant offered. With earbuds in, you let Helaena lift the arm rest to lean her head on your shoulder in a snuggle, shutting your eyes, and that was honestly that.

Sure, when you woke, you were groggy and a little confused, but when you remembered where you were, all sleepiness evaporated into vibrating-excitement. You were allowed to disembark first, grab your luggage, and instantly located the sleek, tinted SUV that Helaena's father had sent for you.

Long gone were any Ambien side effects, your heart elated by the sights of Dorne you drove past. Oh, it was all so beautiful. So new. So stunningly busy. "Here!" Helaena beamed, holding her phone up and making you both pose for couple of sillier selfies before smiling sweetly for the camera for another few saved photos.

"Look, look!" You gasped, pointing to the street vendors. "That man actually has a snake on a leash! Holy shit!"

"Pretty normal here, Miss," the driver spoke stoically.

Helaena laughed, "This is so cool! Look, look at those!"

"Oh, we'll have to come back," you grinned, looking at the array of handmade purses and bags another vendor was selling. The rest of the ride was very similar, just the two of you gasping and grinning and pointing out everything you found interesting or alluring.

Upon arrival to the Sun Spear Spa and Resort (and Casino), you were blown away by the immaculate detail and decor. It was open, breathable, modern, and vast. There were three pools, direct and private beach access, six different restaurants, guided tours, several different bars planted in every corner of the resort. The walls were high, and inside, it was like stepping into a whole new world; lush green plants spewing everywhere; glass ceilings that let in all the light; marble flooring and a light perfume in the air.

"Hi," you beamed at the concierge. "We're checking in for the Stark-Targaryen wedding."

"Hi, welcome, welcome to Sun Spear! May I have your names?" The man asked in an upbeat tone, typing when you told him. He smiled and revealed, "The rest of your party has already arrived, but I have here your key cards." He handed Helaena a tiny envelope with her set of keys before offering you the same. After consulting the room numbers, you thanked the man with the name tag 'Robb' before rushing for the elevators.

"Can you believe it!?" Helaena squealed.

"Barely," you laughed, pouting dramatically. "Awh! Feels like yesterday I was introducing you and Cregan. Now we're checked into the resort you're getting married at, and it honestly doesn't feel real yet."

"Maybe it'll sink in later," she mused, moving to enter the elevator when the doors opened - but stuttered in step. "BROTHER!"

You gasped when Helaena surged past you to launch into someone's arms and knock them both half a step back onto the elevator. After a stunned moment, you recognized the long white hair adorned with a leather strap and felt your stomach plummet. You know how people say 'butterflies in my tummy' when talking about the person they like? Yeah, no, the sentiment is understood and appreciated but it's not entirely accurate. It was more like an anxious stomach-sinking feeling; churning, nauseating almost.

You smiled politely when Helaena let go and Aemond glanced up at you. He spoke your name cooly, blinking twice before seemingly remembering where he was. "Here," he offered, reaching out of the elevators to grab your suitcases.

"Thanks," you tried to laugh lightly, luggage all loaded into the death machine.

"'S good to see you," he directed at you, Helaena leaning into his side. "You look nice."

You waved him off, "Oh, you're so sweet, but you're obviously lying. I'm in my airport clothes, just spent, like, 8 hours on a plane, and I know I look as tired as I feel."

"Still," he eased softly, "beauty doesn't know tired." You didn't get to answer his compliment because when you got to Helaena's floor, the doors opened to reveal a grinning Cregan - it being obvious she had texted him and he came to greet her.

"They're so fucking cute," you whispered.

"A little too cute," Aemond answered at the same level; you both sharing a smirk.

After brief greetings to Cregan and parting words to the couple with promises to text everyone later with plans, you and Aemond continued on your way to your floor in the elevator. "You don't have to walk me to my room, you know," you told him softly.

"I know, but what kinda guy passes on the opportunity to aid a pretty lady?"

"Oh, that was smooth," you teased, snorting in amusement. "I'll give you that one."

"C'mon," he eased, the doors opening again and the pair of you striding out. "I'm actually in the room next to you, looks like," he glanced at his own door as you used your key card.

"Good, I'll have someone to help do my hair," you teased, letting him pass because he held everything and you, only your purse. Hey, he offered!

Aemond chuckled, setting your belongings down and dismissing himself, "I'll let you get settled and see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah, I just want to wash the travel off me. Wanna meet in the lobby before dinner tonight?"

"Why don't I just pick you up and we go down to dinner together?"

"Woah, but it's such a long walk for you. I don't want you going out of your way," you snickered, watching his lips twitch in a grin.

"I'll see you tonight, sweetheart."

When Aemond slipped out of your room, you giggled to yourself. You just couldn't help it; hands clasping together in glee and merriment over the banter you exchanged; feeling so very girly, and while so silly, it was a welcomed feeling. And did he ask you out? No, not really, but you couldn't help but romanticize his offer to pick you up before the family dinner that evening.

You ripped open your suitcase and the chaos began; being the only person in your room meaning throwing around what you wanted wherever you wanted without disturbing others. You brought way too many clothes but you were glad you did - needing options for the different events.

You picked an outfit, scurried into the bathroom, gawked at the interior for a long moment (it was a huge bathroom for a single room), and then got the shower turned on to heat up. In the meantime, you laid out your toiletries and products and tools, then stepping into the hot shower and literally moaning from relief.

"Ohhhhh yeaaaah, baby, that's it!" You groaned through a laugh. "Is this what water pressure is? Shit, this is nice. Gods bless it," you turned so the stream was on your chest, humming again. "I can't go home ever again, can I? Nope, probably not. This kind of water pressure would literally injure a child in King's Landing, they'd never allow this kind of luxury."

You tweaked the knob, upping the temperature, and sighing when the steam swirled around you; moaning again. You were unaware that Aemond had double-backed, pausing at your door when he heard you and swallowing harshly. He glanced down and glared at the tent pitching in the front of his jeans, but then you moaned again and his single eye fluttered shut. He retreated to his room before he spent his load right then and there.

You've never done this before, but that shower was so mesmerizing, you were in there for 56 straight minutes - with zero regrets. And now, you had the distinct pleasure to prepare for dinner with your best friend's family; including her brother, who you were deeply attached to; wildly attracted to; and wanted to impress by looking more than good tonight.

You wanted to look delectable. You wanted to look stunning. You wanted to be looked at as if a five-course meal.

With that in mind, you stepped out of the shower and got to work.

Three definitive knocks announced his arrival, and honestly, you could've cried from anxiety. You figured you couldn't wait much longer after doing a fourth once-over in the mirror, couldn't look any better if you tried, and proceeded to yank the door open. "Hey," you chirped, readjusting your earring back.

"Shit," Aemond blinked as his single eye raked you up and down; leather eyepatch matching his leather belt and shoes. His button-up was black, unbuttoned at the top to show off his two thin silver chains, both at varying lengths; wearing easy black jeans.

"Hi," you mused, purse under your arm as you made sure to shut the heavy door after checking your keycard was where you needed it to be. "You look handsome, loving the monochromatic look."

"It's one of the many colors gracing my wardrobe," Aemond teased. "And if anyone should have a compliment, it's you, doll, I mean, just wow," his hand snatched yours to hold onto yours fingers and gave you a twirl while whistling. "This dress is a little short, no? Not that I'm complaining, I just know Aegon..." He teased, still holding your hand to yank you into his side; arm lazily tossing around your shoulders as he moved you off for the elevators.

"Your brother isn't a worry of mine," your eyes rolled, "not since I caught him..."

"Doing?"

"Nothing," you sang, punching the elevator door rapidly.

"Hey, now," he turned you so you were pressed to the cold, metal doors, "if it's about my family, I have a right to know."

"Only if it's dangerous or otherwise," you breathed. "Trust me, he's not in trouble, he's just... Busy...?"

"Where did you catch him?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Does to me."

"You're gonna make fun of him, no."

Aemond sighed, hearing the metal contraption arrive and easily stepped back; pulling you with him just as the doors opened behind you. He simply held your wrists and then drove you backwards, chuckling to himself when you pouted up at him and yanked your hands from his. "Still don't like your personal space invaded, huh?" He laughed, giving you space after hitting the lobby's floor.

"Who the fuck does?"

He nodded in agreement. "Where did you catch Aegon?"

Your eyes rolled, "Nope."

When you arrived in the lobby, you and Aemond were still bickering back and forth; all the way to the restaurant of choice that evening. You ran into Jace and Luke - Aemond's nephews - but didn't wait for them to join you; understanding the tension due to Luke's recklessness costing Aemond's eye.

"Hey," you mumbled to him when he went rigid about the lads, "you're okay. You're gonna be okay, it's okay, just ignore them."

He huffed hot air through his nose, nodding stiffly, and then following you to the reserved "party room" - being a private dining patio. When you arrived, there was a round of cheering, both you and Aemond being greeted, and when you looked, there was only 4 seats - both beside one another.

"Here," Aegon beamed, tugging the chair beside him out.

"C'mon," Aemond whispered, leading you to your chair; pulling it out, offering you to sit before he joined. Before you sat, you greeted Aegon, taking the advantage to whisper in his ear,

"Secret's still safe but Aemond knows something's up." You offered him a pointed look before smiling at Aemond and taking the seat he offered you. Beside you was Aemond and Helaena, and beside him, you and Aegon; Cregan on Helaena's side and Robb Stark on Aegon's other side.

After Jace and Luke arrived, the toasting began. Wine was poured, helpings dolloped to plates, cutlery scraped plates, and over it all, Alicent stood to her feet, "Well," she sighed, nodding at the table, "just let me say: welcome to the wedding of my daughter, Helaena, and her incredible fiancé, Cregan, who I believe has always been meant to join our family. I speak on behalf of my husband," she smiled at her decrepit husband, "Viserys, and I, and we just want to thank everyone who came all this way. Welcome to the start!"

After the obligatory sip, she offered, "Any others?"

The table glanced at one another, so, you stood and cleared your throat. "I'd like to offer a toast," you smiled as Alicent sat. "Watching Helaena and Cregan in the time we've all been friends has truly, truly, truly been a one-of-a-kind experience because how often do you get to witness two people who are meant to be, find each other? Like a puzzle, they are two halves of a whole, and while perhaps a little rough around the edges, still has a perfect fit. Thank you for inviting me, but mostly, thank you, Cregan," you smiled at the groom, "for being a one-of-a-kind man, because our Helaena deserves the absolute best. It brings us all peace and joy to know she will be loved and protected - as she deserves. However," you paused, "I also want to thank Helaena because, as friend to you both, it's been refreshing to see my mate be treated as he deserves, too. To Helaena and Cregan - our perfect puzzle pieces!"

Another round of applause and sips of wine.

Viserys toasted Cregan's strength and Helaena's bravery - saying they made a handsome couple. Something that made Aemond's eye meet your own with soft smiles.

Best man, Harwin Strong, toasted the beauty of young Helaena and how a "sorry sod" like Cregan would never deserve a woman like her, but so long as neither of them forgot that, everything should work out. You felt Aemond's pinky finger reach out to stroke your own resting on the table, and again, you met his gaze with a much shier attention than before.

Sansa Stark thanked everyone for the amazing time so far, loving their generosity and attention to detail. She toasted to loving your best mate first, how that will always make for a much better relationship; and how Helaena and Cregan just make having a relationship look easy, it was truly inspiring. This time, however, Helaena started to tear up a little and you reached into your purse to produce tissues for her; missing the way Aemond stared at you with a longing expression. Yet Aegon did not, nudging his brother and muttering, "Just ask her out already, for fuck's sake. She's not gonna bite."

Aemond swatted him away, taking a much longer pull of wine than the others taking an obligatory sip of wine.

A few others gave speeches, too, but you were drastically annoyed by Jace and Luke, sitting with their girlfriends, all snickering together over any and every congratulatory sound. They thought they were being quiet, yet they were anything but; the entire table eventually hearing them and offering glares that went ignored by the youngsters. You felt tension rolling off Aemond in suffocating waves, frowning when you noted a few Starks exchange unamused looks at the show of blatant disrespect. You were just about to open your mouth to tell them off when all of a sudden, after groomsman, Robb Stark, sat down, Aemond's fist punched the table to aid his standing movement.

He played it off by fluidly lifting his goblet.

"Final tribute," he spoke stoically, staring directly across the table at his nephews, "before we turn to our meals this evening, is hoisted in honor of the entire Targaryen brood. Tonight, we do not mourn the loss of a sister, but the gain of a brother, and I think it only fair we offer the same curtesy they've always shown us - respect."

"Aemond," Alicent warned.

"You've shown us all what love is," he told the couple. "How to keep it alive, how to remain level, patient, kind, resolute, and how to compromise." His eye flickered to yours, continuing, "Making us all envy the connection... The friendship you share, the time spent together - growing and nurturing one another. It's not everyday you're able to marry the right person at the right time," he half smirked, "someone you think understands you better than anyone else." He blinked, then cleared his throat, "And yet, I've always heard there's no bond like that of family - those you share blood with. Tonight, it wasn't Cregan who proved me wrong..."

"Aemond, don't," you mumbled when you heard Helaena sigh sadly.

"Hm," he seemed to change his mind, and instead, raised his cup in the air. "To my sister, the most beautiful bride and her very own Prince Charming - to Helaena and Cregan! May it be a long and happy marriage that we continue to envy through the ages."

"Here, here - "

"But also to our nephews, Jace and Luke," Aemond cut off the responses - the entire table stilling with confusion.

"Us?" Jace asked softly, "What for, Uncle? We are not the ones getting married."

"Well, since you found it appropriate to whispering during every speech, I figured why not just give you the attention you so obviously need."

The younger crowd at the table all oooh'ed in union while the older adults tried to diffuse the tension. You simply reached out to grab Aemond's elbow and pull him back into the chair beside you; frowning when he only smirked. "That wasn't very nice," you reprimanded softly.

"Needed said," he shrugged.

Alicent and Rhaenyra, mother of Jace and Luke, Aemond's older half-sister, were bickering in anger about Alicent's son disrespecting her own - but Alicent countered that Nyra's sons disrespected her daughter by their chattering. The tension melted into the night, everyone moving about their business; seemingly sweeping the tension under the rug, dishing up dinner and starting fresh conversation.

Your own peaceful talk with Cregan's uncle, Ned Stark, was interrupted when you jumped as a hand boldly laid on your mid-thigh. You covered your surprise with a dab of your cloth napkin to your mouth, looking discreetly to the warm fingers grasping your flushing flesh; then trailing your gaze up to the owner of said hand. Aemond casually ate with his other hand, a smirk pulled on his lips; never looking down at you, but wriggling his hand a little to make you squirm.

It felt so fucking good to be touched by him like this.

Even if it was minimal, fleeting; barely there and never-lasting. You savored the feel, the heat, the way a single, simple touch made your stomach twist in knots and heat to flush your skin.

However, when his hand slid up your thigh to push the hemline of your dress - your hand slapped down to halt his movements. You moved his hand back down to your limit, patted twice, and let go, distracted by Ned Stark's alluring baritone, accented voice. He took the hint and only touched you at your limit, still too casual for your liking; leaving you alone in your burning-desire state. If only you knew that Aemond was having just as hard a time as you - thinking you had the softest skin he's ever held before.

Soft, shaved - or is it waxed? - moisturized, and basically calling to him that he needed to get a handful. He helped himself.

You almost moaned when he curled his finger to your inner thigh; an embarrassing gush of arousal seeping from your cunt at the slightest movement from the handsome, silver-haired, one-eyed dickhead known as your best friend's brother. Yet you didn't give him the satisfaction of reacting beyond that, all too happy to listen to the others chatter away. He didn't push you too far, and yet, never once removed his hand - almost entranced by the feel of your warmth.

When dinner was brought out, Helaena and Cregan stood and everyone - yes, everyone this time - silenced themselves to listen. Sitting back in your chair, you slowly let both your hands come around Aemond's one; just holding his forearm as you listened to your besties thank everyone for their efforts and appearance during their nuptials.

When he didn't shy away from your show of silent affection, you let your hand drift to hold his bare wrist; frowning when his arm contracted in movement. However, your frown turned into an easy, relieved smile when he only moved to fold his hand into yours; fingers interlaced, resting on your lap to let your other hand cover your conjoined ones.

"And to my beautiful bride," Cregan purred, turning to Helaena, "I hope this is all you've ever wanted, exactly as you've imagined it... Because giving you the wedding of your dreams is top priority. To see your friends and family come together has been truly incredible, and I hope the rest of these celebrations are exactly that - a celebration as you've always dreamt it'd be. I'd give you whatever you'd ask for, you know," he grinned, the hand in your tightening. When you met Aemond's eye, Cregan continued, "You're all I could've dreamed of, and at the end of this week, we'll have the rest of our lives together - something I only ever thought was possible in my dreams. You're all I want in this life, and I'll spend the rest of ours being worthy of you."

Aemond squeezed your hand, you returning it as you beamed at your best mates kissing; the table cooing at their adorable antics while you snuck a glance at Aemond. His head was cocked down at an angle, smiling down at you, looking all too soft and kind for his usual demeanor. You couldn't look away once you made eye contact, staring at one another, lips slowly curling in a bright grin as his hand tightened in yours.

The following evening breezed in with the tropical wind, and after an hour and a half, you were pecking off room service platters you had delivered and used plastic cups to drink the Dornish sweet wine from the bottle your friend had gone to the bar to get. Sansa Stark made sure your hair was in order before she pulled her long, red strands up in a high-teased ponytail; complimenting the way her bright Tully blue eyes were rimmed in a smudged-liner. You made sure you both ate a significant amount before starting to drink - wanting to loosen up as you finished getting ready together.

She wore something from your closet, you wore something of hers. With everything you needed in your purse, you latched your heels on and took your phones off chargers. "The cabs are here!" Sansa mocked, making you sputter a small laugh. This side of her was a breath of fresh air, knowing that truly, if anyone deserved a feel-good night out, it was Sansa.

So, you made the decision to stay sober - you know, so she could drink under a safe eye. However, after double checking for hotel key cards, ID's, cash, debit cards, the paper bag of bride-to-be merch, and whatever else you deemed necessary, you left the room, and was surprised to see some of the guys leaving their rooms, too.

"Hey," You greeted the best man, Harwin Strong, "what're you guys doing?"

"God daaaaaaamn," he whistled, "lookin' good ladies!" He smirked, looking you up and down, "We're heading out to some clubs and bars, too, princess."

Your eyes rolled in good humor, "Okay, yeah, sure, where are you really going?"

"Out," he nodded, following you to the elevators. "Seriously, there's a couple places we wanna check out. By the looks of things, y'all had the same idea, huh?"

You smiled as Sansa answered, "Yeah, it was last-minute. Kinda like a bachelorette thing."

"That explains all that, huh?" Harwin snickered, pointing at your paper bag.

"Don't be a hater 'cause you didn't think of it," you teased.

He hummed, "You both look really gorgeous tonight, by the way. Just incredible, I mean, Sansa, this dress is - just wow!"

Sansa flushed, letting you thank him for you both as she seemed a little tongue-tied. However, when you made it to the lobby, it was a semi-chaotic scene as the entire bridal party had gathered to share mutual rambunctious excitement. After joining in and greeting everyone, you set the paper bag down and started to dress Helaena in the obnoxious bridal garb.

"Here," Sansa giggled, handing out different paraphernalia to each lady, "just for a few pictures!"

Nobody objected. Robb had no problem taking a load of photos; some with you all posing and others more candid. It was all in good fun, the cab driver even offering to take a large group photo of the entire bridal party; encouraging a few different poses and giving you a thumbs up when done.

"Hey," Aemond approached you as you stood to the side and texted your mother, assuring everything was okay on your vacation, "haven't seen you since dinner last night."

"I know," you pouted lightly, "I'm sorry I've been a little MIA, we had an all-day spa day today."

"And here I was thinking you were avoiding me, huh?" He mused, but you heard the underlying insecurity to his voice.

"Not even close to the truth, Aems," you promised.

"So, uh," he glanced at the guys before back at you, asking, "it's just you ladies going out tonight, right?"

"Mhm," you nodded, trying not to break apart under his gaze.

"Without... Someone there?"

"I mean, we'll all be there, looking out for each other," you offered Aemond a confused smile, "and I'm not drinking, so I'll make sure everyone's safe."

"You think that's a good idea?"

"Why not?"

"New country plus drinking, I mean, sounds pretty accident-prone."

"We'll be okay, I'll stay sober and keep an eye out, make sure nobody breaks an ankle or two like last Halloween."

He looked at the bridal party, musing, "You're going to keep hold of five drunks?"

You paused for a long moment, not putting much thought behind logistics. "I think I can manage," you admitted with uncertainty. "They're not that bad. I mean, Arya's small enough to haul over my shoulder; Helaena never drinks too much, I think I have it covered best I can."

"You know what? I'll just come with you ladies."

"What?" You giggled, thinking you must've misheard him.

"I've already been out with the boys for the bachelor's party. You're one person trying to look after my sister and her friends. Trust me, I think you're gonna need help."

"Between us, who do you think has more experience between wrangling drunk women?"

Aemond just smirked, nodding, "C'mon, we should head out."

Figuring there was no use in arguing, you turned for the minivan and got in after the other girls. After Aemond spoke to Cregan and Robb, he got in the passenger seat, and away you went. "What's he doing here?" Rhea asked cautiously, looking guarded.

"He wants to help keep an eye on us," you smirked.

"So you're gonna keep creepy dudes away from us?"

"Sure," Aemond agreed just as his sister squealed and begged for the radio to be turned up - she absolutely loved this song!

The club had no central lighting in the warehouse styled event room. There were multicolored strobe lights that flickered and pulsed and beat in-time with the loud, blaring music that was dialed to a volume that made the floor vibrate. Trendy music played in remixed playlists, heavy speakers lining most walls that didn't host the VIP sitting area.

Sweaty bodies bumped and ground together.

There was the dance floor. Then the bar lined the entire back wall, bathrooms located to the left and a fire exit to the right. The right most part of the room, stretching wall-to-wall, was an elevated space that had separate, roped-off lounge areas; complete with velvet couches and individual tables.

"Here," Rhea waved you all after her, leading you all right up to the bouncer and being granted access. Heleana looked skeptical as she realized this was some orchestrated event, not liking the idea of being clued-out of the knowing, but still, played along with the luxury treatment. You were seated in the corner booth, and without missing a beat, Sansa was tossing you her purse and yanking Helaena to the bar with the hope that her bride-to-be apparel would earn free drinks.

"This place is nice," Jeyne tried to compliment, but you and the Stark sisters shared a bemused look. "Oh! Goodie!" She squeaked when Sansa and Helaena returned with a full tray of assorted drinks.

"So, they just filled it with all the forgotten drinks," Sansa explained, "and said it was on the house 'cause of Helaena's bachelorette shit."

"Well then," you smirked, reaching for a single shot, "a toast!" Everyone reached for a drink and hoisted it in the air. "To our dear, sweet love, Helaena, and her saying 'I do' to one helluva guy! May this marriage be long, prosperous, adventurous, and full of the love you deserve! To Helaena!"

"And Cregan!" The bride slipped in as everyone echoed their toasts to the soon-to-be-married couple. You had your one shot, and while the others filled up, you and Aemond just watched them. Jeyne, Rhea, and Sansa scurried off together, Arya seeing someone she apparently knew and running off with them, and Helaena was looking at you with a dramatic pout. "Come dance with me," she whined. "I let you convince me to come out tonight, so you have to dance with me! Before I'm a spoken-for woman!"

Aemond smirked when you spared him a look as if to beg him to rescue you, but being unable to because his sister was adamant to get you on your feet.

Everyone was buddied up and accounted for; leaving Aemond alone at a reserved table. However, he didn't mind watching purses if it meant he could turn mutely to watch the dance floor, and while the lights made it hard, his eye caught sight of you.

Helaena was having the absolute time of her life, and the women around her all seemed blissfully distracted by the alcohol in their systems. He watched you. His eye did not stray, until he realized that while he could see you, so could every other wanton eye roaming the hazy room. Aemond glanced around and saw a few VIPs smoking, figuring it was okay to light up. Out of defensive anxiety, he pulled a cigarette carton from his pocket, tapped a single filtered death stick out, fingered his lighter before pausing to light, inhale, and return his gaze back onto you.

You were lost in the music, evident that all you ladies needed some stress relief after the whirlwind that is wedding planning. He knew you weren't drinking, but seeing you laugh and toss you arms up, rolling your hips in rhythm to the music, he knew you didn't need a single drop to have a good time. He thought that was admirable, incredibly rare these days. In Aemond's experience, college kids had a hard time saying no to alcohol, and the fact that you did it so willingly felt like whiplash.

Aemond stood and neared the guard railing of the elevated section he was stationed on. His shoulder leaned into a steel support beam, staring at you for several long moments while casually smoking; perking up only a degree when you told the girls something and then started moving through the throngs of people.

You pushed up to the bar and the bartender almost immediately took your order. He figured all seemed well enough because you weren't moving from the bar yet, his gaze shifting to scan the building.

Bodies were pressed together at every inch, the smell of sweat and spilt alcohol seemingly permanently perfuming the air. It was hard to see, but after adjusting, he could make out a few faces. Nobody seemed too hair-raising, nothing suspicious, nothing out of the ordinary...

Until his eyes returned to you. The bartender was distracted doing their job, and instead of you standing peacefully, there was some guy obviously trying to flirt with you. He seemed desperate for a conversation, Aemond almost cringing from a distance as he could only imagine what kind of terrible pick-up lines this guy was using. He felt ready to move into action, but the moment the thought entered his mind, Aemond saw you gather the glasses from the bar, turn, and quite literally ignore the blonde man - who stared after you with a gobsmacked expression. Aemond smirked when the man turned to complain to his friends; holding a drink in one hand as the other gestured angrily after you.

The man's friends got a glimpse of you and laughed, slapping their friend's chest; and Aemond hoped one of them told him that a girl as pretty as you was lightyears ahead of his league.

Aemond relaxed when you returned to the party, taking a long drag when you distributed drinks to your friends. Arya had come back around with her friend, the group mingling and enjoying their new acquaintances. He noted you were empty handed, flagging a waitress down; the VIP section apparently having the luxury of being waited on to avoid the long waits at the bar. He quietly requested two bottles of water be delivered - unsealed - to their table.

His attention returned to the bridal party, only to watch a few guys join your group. Sansa and Rhea ate up the attention; leaving Jeyne and Helaena to dance alongside Arya and her friend, as the same guy from the bar holding your conversation hostage. You still looked disinterested; stoic and cold; body language assuring Aemond that you weren't receptive to the stranger. You flinched in discomfort when he had to lean in to shout in your ear just to be heard over the music, but your eye rolls told Aemond you wouldn't listen even if in a silent library.

Something in the interaction made him annoyed. It wasn't jealousy that someone was paying attention to you, standing so close and intimately; invading your space. It was something else. He could tell you weren't interested in whatever was being said, and when you turned from the man once again, obviously dismissing him to dance with Helaena and Jeyne, Aemond could see offense paint the man's face. It wasn't jealousy, but perhaps something akin to protectiveness after witnessing the way the man had approached you at the bar, and now, again, on the dance floor.

Without a single thought, Aemond was pushing off the beam and dropping his cigarette to crunch under his boot the moment the stranger reached for your upper arm to whip you around aggressively; snarling and scolding you. Aemond easily slotted through the sweaty crowd, not entirely barging through them but not exactly waiting for them all to part for him. The stranger was sneering something at you, demanding an apology for blowing him off (twice) so rudely, but you were snapping that it was rude to bombard you. To pester disinterested women. To impose. To approach an entire group of women and ruin the good vibe by simply being an intrusive, entitled man. The blonde man was just in the middle of snarling in your face how much of a "catch" he was when Aemond arrived, and without truly thinking, he reached out and tore the man away.

Aemond, while decently lanky and skinny, was ripped with defined muscle and when his anger was flared up, he was near unstoppable. So, in reality, the stranger would've been moved whether sober or not, but because this man was drunk, he nearly toppled over. As the stranger scrambled off the floor, Aemond stood protectively in front of you with his anger almost palpable, barking, "She told you to fuck off, mate."

"Oh-ho! Got a big man here, do we!?" The blonde stranger raged, his pale flesh turning a bright red from his anger and alcohol consumption. "You wanna have a go, mate, I'll fuck you up right here! Right now! Fuck you think you're doin', touchin' me like that, you fuckin' prick!?"

"She's not interested," Aemond stood his ground, "and you need to walk away - right fucking now."

"Over some stuck-up whore who won't even accept a drink? She's that much of an up-tight bitch? Too full of her-fucking-self? Man, you're wasting your time, chicks like that don't know a nice guy even when he hits her."

"As if any woman in their right mind would accept a drink from you," Aemond sneered, looking the man up and down. "You got ears? You speak the Common Tongue? Turn around and fuck off - the ladies aren't interested."

"Like I'm listening to some one-eyed, pussy-boy - "

"Aemond!" You yelped, shoving yourself in front of him when you saw the impending danger. You knew his injury was off-base; not a topic of conversation anyone dare engage in. The fact this stranger honed in on it so easily was triggering in the worst way imaginable. "Hey, hey, hey, he's not worth it. Hey, c'mon, don't let it get to you this bad. It's okay. Aemond, c'mon, let's just walk away."

"Listen to your bitch, mate! She's not even fuckin' worth it! What kind of a guy wants to parade around with some whore? Wearing something like that for everyone to see! What's wrong, princess?" He directed at you. "He don't give you enough attention? Huh? You gotta find it anywhere else, don't'cha, why else dress like that - huh!?"

By now, a small crowd had formed and the blonde, drunk stranger was being egged on and riled up by his mates. "Don't," you repeated to Aemond, perfectly all too used to men's reaction when women reject them or simply didn't get what they want.

"Walk away," Aemond repeated, his veiny hands moving to hold your arms as if it would physically restrain him; your hands on his waist to keep him anchored.

"Man, what the fuck ever. Not even worth it," he scoffed.

"Then why do you keep talking?" Sansa drunkenly snapped from behind Aemond's broad shoulders.

"Fuck did you say, bitch!?"

Aemond sighed and tugged you behind him, stepping up to the drunk blonde man; lowering his tone to mutter something as he stood between you ladies and the lads in tacky Hawaiian-print button-ups. You're not sure what was said, but Aemond seemingly had the last word; watching him turn back for you lot and instantly start checking that each of you was truly okay.

Aemond gently caressed Helaena's cheek, muttering, "You good?"

She nodded, but then, her eyes widened and she squeaked when the stranger charged Aemond from behind, shouting his name in warning. "Shit!" You yelped when he dodged out of the way just as the man threw a wild punch.

Nobody could've stopped the fight if they tried.

You made sure to herd the women close as Aemond dodged two more throws, his long platinum hair swinging as it fell out of its bun before he found his opportunity. Aemond strategically waited until the blonde stranger was open to throw his weight behind his fist colliding with the drunk man's cheekbone.

The crowd of people around you all 'ooohed' in union, wincing when Aemond, again, knocked his fist into the man's jaw and, again, sent him sprawling to the floor. One of the friends managed to sneak in and land a blow on Aemond's cheek, but his head only barely turned with the impact. His eye locked onto the new target, and not a minute later, the other guy was nursing a broken nose.

Aemond glanced around for any other contenders, sighing when there were none - just a cloud of jeering drunks voicing their approval towards the violence. "Hey," you begged again, his eye finding your worried face, "you done now? Can we get you cleaned up?"

Sansa stepped up, stating, "We can go if you guys want - we don't have to stay!"

"No, just... Stay outta trouble," Aemond sighed. "I'll be up there," he gestured back at the elevated VIP section. You hated seeing him shoulder his way through the rowdy crowd who had already forgotten about the fight.

You shook your head, grabbing Helaena's arm and leaning into her ear, "I'm gonna check on Aemond. Don't go anywhere, stay with the girls!"

"I will!" She agreed, letting Arya push another shot in her hand. You turned and grumbled when bodies began bumping into you instantly; your jaw clenched to keep upright. You had to eventually shove a few people out of your path, but didn't care, jogging up to the VIP section and looking around. When you got back to your table, Aemond was sitting with his head tilted back, eye closed, smoking another cigarette, ice on his slightly reddened hand.

"Aemond?" You checked, announcing your presence as you took the seat beside him; scooting closer. "The fuck was that? Gettin' in fights in the club, Alicent wouldn't be proud," You spoke gently, readjusting his ice so it was actually over the swollen area.

"Just guys being dudes, dudes being guys," he mused, free hand holding his cigarette to speak as he exhaled. "Why're you up here?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"I'm fine, you can go back - "

"Aemond," you snipped, "I'm fine here. I needed a break, and I wanted to check on you."

He nodded towards the table, "Water's for you."

You glanced over, finding the two water bottles amongst an array of items on the tabletop. One unopened, the other cracked and partially drank. "Thank you," you spoke sincerely, waiting until his eye met yours, "for the water and for defending me back there. I owe you one."

"I only did what a gentleman should do," he sighed.

"Wasn't worth bruising your knuckle, was it?"

"I'd actually say it was necessary," he spoke like it was easy. You hated that, how he seemed fluent in flirting but you knew he wasn't really. Why would he? Aemond Targaryen made 'being perfect' look fucking perfect.

You were quiet for another moment before you blurted out, "It was pretty hot, I have to admit. Seeing you defend my honor."

He eased his cigarette to an ashtray, speaking clearly, "Wasn't gonna let him touch you." You thought that was final and just smiled softly, but then Aemond finished, "Wasn't about to let any man touch what's mine."

"Yours, huh?"

He smirked, "Why not?" His now free hand landed on your bare thigh; dress riding up when you sat down to give him access to your spa-waxed legs. "You anyone else's?"

"I'd like to think women aren't possessions."

"Yet you're the one prize I fucking need," his hand squeezed. "Don't even know what kinda gem you are, do you?"

"I think your adrenaline's got you talkin' crazy," you tried to deflect, giggling lightly. But his hand squeezed again, making you look up to meet his gaze.

"I know what I want. And I know," his hand slid up to ease up the curve of your ass, "that I'm done denying my want for you."

"Aemond," you felt drunk on his presence.

"Tell me to stop, doll, and we won't ever have to talk about it again. But if you can't," he palmed your flesh, "and you want this, too - "

Your hand grabbed his wrist to stop him, pulling his hand from under your dress, "Helaena's my best friend, and you're her brother. This is... The most taboo situation we could entertain right now."

"Hmm," he pulled his hand back, making you instantly snatch it back.

"But I can't tell you I don't feel it, too." Aemond's eye glittered in the strobe lights, feeling him pull your legs so you were nearly sat on his lap; legs laid over his so he could fully touch your thighs again. "But we can't, i-it would - this would take away from Helaena - we can't."

"I don't see her here right now," he purred, leaning in close to breath in your neck. "Tell me how long you've wanted me."

"Aemond."

"Keep sayin' my name, baby, but it doesn't answer my question."

You only managed to answer, "Too long," in a quivering voice before,

"HEY!" Sansa slurred, beaming brightly from over Rhea's shoulder as they stumbled up; giving just enough time for you and Aemond to separate. "I know you guys! Oh! I know them! Look! It's our friends!"

Rhea Royce, being just-as-drunk, gasped, "I know them, too! Oh, bless the Seven! We know you!"

"Hi," you laughed, eyeing them all with full amusement, "everyone doing okay?"

"I called our ride, they're up the street - they can't get down here 'cause of traffic," Jeyne informed with a pant, Helaena and Arya held to her body. You smiled at Aemond before getting up to gently take Helaena's weight from Jeyne, who breathed, "Thank you so much. C'mon, our ride's up there - "

Aemond grunted as he stood and offered his water to Rhea, assisting the ladies in keeping their balance in sticky-soled heels. You handed Sansa your unopened water as you held onto Jeyne, watching Aemond help Arya, Rhea, and Helaena - who needed his support.

It was a shit-show getting the group in another minivan; the only relief being when they were bribed with tacos. The ride to the resort was a total 180 compared to the ride out, as everyone knocked out except you and Aemond. A couple of times, you wondered if you should speak first but never did - being vulnerable isn't your forte.

You know what you would rather do than wrangle in five drunk girls? Specifically after a bachelorette party? Declaw wet cats. Contract measles. Be hit by a bus. Learn how to speak Latin (a dead language, for those who don't know). Go to Vegas with your entire lifesavings and lose it all. Use pliers to yank a tooth out - no dentist or anesthesia used (Ron Swanson style).

Anything would be better than this.

It took the better part of an hour for you to get all the girls out of the van, through the resort, and into Jeyne's border-line empty hotel room. Empty because the sweet, party girl from Northern University didn't unpack, and was the cleanest; the perfect place to dispose of everyone. Aemond was as helpful as ever, but he didn't do much past helping you get the women in bed; unsure how to help past that. From there, you did the rest: took off any shoes and / or glasses, plugged phones in, left water bottles and a bottle of Advil in view, and shut the curtains to grant them deliverance when the sun rose.

When done, you and Aemond snuck out of the room quietly and let the door shut behind you; leaving you in the hall. "I put Sansa's phone on FaceTime with mine," you showed him, "in case one of them throws up or needs something, and left it on the charger."

"So we should get you to your charger, right?"

"Oh," there was teasing to your tone, "worried about my battery running low?"

"Just wondering if your batteries can go all night," he smirked, picking up on your innuendo.

"Oh, good one," you teased, watching him smirk. "Thanks for helping tonight. It was nice having you watching our back."

"Yeah?"

You beamed, nodding, "For sure. I could tell Helaena had a blast."

"Good, 's what I care about," he nodded. "Listen," he cleared his throat, "I, uh... I have to make a confession."

"Aemond Targaryen wants to tell me a secret?" You teased, facing him in full-interest. "Please," you encouraged, gesturing for him to go-on.

His tongue wet his lips swiftly, "I know you're Helaena's friend and you say it's wrong, but I just... I tried not to have these feelings for you, but I can't stop them."

You smiled, "Aemond, that's the alcohol talking."

"What if I said I didn't have any?"

You blinked in mild shock, offering quietly, "I'd say you were delirious from dehydration or something. It was really hot in there, must've been sweating a lot, or maybe it's your adrenaline again!

"Why is it so far fetched for you to think I could have honest feelings for you? Truly, have you thought this was just a one-way street?"

"You're Helaena's brother," you spoke softly, sadly, "and maybe we're just - I don't know - not thinking clearly! We need to cool off - "

"No, no, I don't need to cool off, you see, because I'm thinking the clearest than ever before," Aemond shook his head, reaching for your shoulders to squeeze, and move down to hold your upper arms, squeeze again, then down to just above your elbow. "I feel as if I don't say it now, I might lose the nerve later. I've always admired you, sweetheart, and I know it's wrong, I know it's taboo and scares you, I know I'm your best friends brother, but I can't help it. You're just - this - like - fucking incredible person, who is loyal and wise and strong and knowing and open and sweet and empathetic and wickedly intelligent - "

You cut him off by surging into his arms; chest to chest, lips locked together in a passionate exchange of fierce, over-boiled emotion without a single thought towards further repercussions. There was tongue, there was teeth, there was an-ever spreading warmth that stretched from your cheeks to your toes. Aemond tasted just like he semlled - sweet, salty, just the right amount of spicy. He let you lock your hands in his hair, always knowing your affinity for his long silver mane; tugging the strands you managed to get ahold of gently to cause Aemond to moan while sucking on his domineering tongue.

Aemond was losing his mind; infected with all you were, all you are, all you would, could, and should be. The way you made him feel, the obvious care you put into others, the sweet, innocent look in your eye replaced by a haze of lust - all thanks to him. For a moment, Aemond's mind felt numb before it jolted back into reality, realizing he was kissing you. You. You were kissing him, he was kissing you. His dear, sweet, kind, ever-so-perfect sister's best friend, you - he was kissing you and you were kissing him back. Sure, he dreamt of this happening about a few dozen times but the real thing was tenfold what he ever imagined.

Holy Seven, he was kissing you.

"I take it," he panted, breaking apart before surging in for another taste of your pouting lips, "you might feel..." another kiss and a small moan, "feel the same?" He pulled back to look in your eyes, but when you didn't answer him, Aemond teased, "Oh, c'mon, princess, tell me you feel the same. Tell me I'm not makin' a fool of myself, that we're not just runnin' high from the club's fumes."

"No," you promised, "you are no fool, Aemond Targaryen; far from it, in fact. I, too, feel whatever this is, whatever is emotional, tangible, physical between us, I feel it, too, and I want you - oh!"

He didn't need to hear anything more, suffocating you in another kiss, and this time, you let him control the motions because you were unsure how far this would - or should - go. His hands squeezed over your hips, turning, and pushing you against the wall just a few steps behind you. Your moan was meek, released into his mouth; loving Aemond's taste on your tongue; and for now, you simply forgot he was your best friend's brother. Or ignored the fact.

"Shit," he panted, looking down at you before glancing down the hall, "listen, listen, listen, baby, hey, if we keep goin', I might not stop." He offered a small shrug, "Ready to bust right here, right now, if I'm honest, but I'd rather be inside you."

You considered his words for a moment; waiting for his gaze to return to you before voicing your opinion. Feeling inexplicably turned on by his earlier actions to defend you, bruising his knuckles on a stranger's jaw; how he called you his, how he touched you, and when his single violet eye turned back to you, you surprised yourself by your words, "Better make it quick, then."

Aemond smirked, "You want me to fuck you, here? Against the wall?"

"Maybe," you answered softly, letting your hand reach out to palm over his swelling cock; hearing his breathing catch and continuing, "only if you can be quick so we aren't caught and slapped with an indecent exposure charge."

Aemond did not hesitate to swoop down and slam his lips to yours; pushing his hips forward so he could grind into your palm. Hands roamed to touch, caress, squeeze until they secured your hips in a bruising grip, then dipping low to suddenly grab your thighs and hoist you up. As if you weren't turned on enough, the obvious show of strength and ease in which he held you made your cunt contract over nothing; dampening to an embarrassing level. You couldn't remember the last time someone made you feel so frantic; so animalistic; so feral that you needed to be fucked right here, right now, in this hall that was so very public.

But that was the fun: having a frenzied fuck with the looming threat someone might catch you.

You moaned like a wanton bitch in heat, core pressed against his straining member and only imaging what the feel of him would be. A whimper was ripped from your throat, gasping as Aemond grew to a knew height of desperation; turning a degree more aggressive in the way he pressed close to you, teeth scraping your lips. It was like he was trying to suck your soul through your mouth; tongues battling, hands sliding around one another as if unsure where to hold. You settled on his cheeks, finding the chiseled features alluring enough to grip; his securing your waist and base of your ribcage in a bruising grip, both moaning in pleasure and need.

"Gotta keep it down, pretty girl," he muttered with a smirk, holding you expertly so he could grind his harden, black-jean-covered member to your ever-dampening core. "Don't wanna get caught, huh? Disturb the peace, have someone hear us," he breathed against your lips, "come outta their room to check?"

You whimpered.

"Oh," he chuckled darkly, pulling back only just to look at you, "my pretty girl would like that, huh? Always knew you were a fuckin' freak."

His lips were on yours as you pawed as his belt and jeans. Aemond chuckled into the kiss, readjusting his hold on you to help; and the moment the garment was loose, you shucked his jeans to mid-thigh. All the while, Aemond leaned back in to smother your neck and shoulder with his searing-hot, teeth-raking kisses; uneven breathing making you tremble when each exhale covered your saliva-coated skin to send a shiver through your muscles.

"Aemond," you begged, riding up your dress to expose your soaking-wet, black lace thong, "just need you - now. Please, please, we don't have time for begging."

"Gotta warm you up - "

"I've been warm since you shoved that guy off me," you rushed, whimpering, "please, okay? Just fuck me. I need it, I need you. Take your time with me later, but for right now, just fuck me - I need you to fill me, Aemond."

"I gotta condom - "

"I'm on birth control - that NuvaRing is fuckin' incredible," you laughed, hearing him hum in amusement as his teeth latched down on your bottom lip enough to encourage you into another tongue-wrestling session.

After a moment, Aemond grinned and glanced down to push away any lingering fabric, lips licking yours messily; grabbing hold of his cock to line up at your core. Never before had you felt "dripping" for any man, but Aemond wasn't just any man. No, in your mind, he was The Man.

No warning was necessary for him to snap his hips forward; sheathing his hot, leaking cock in your sopping warmth in one fluid motion; piercing you. He praised in your ear, "Oh, there's a good fuckin' girl," before sharing a moan; yours from absolute pleasure, and his from sheer relief. He's wanted this longer than you have, which felt impossible, but the truth was the truth. Aemond's been in love with you for what felt like an impossible amount of time.

"Shit," you begged, teeth scraping the shell of his ear, "hang on, hang on, hang on." You whimpered, "You're so fuckin' big - just a moment, please, hang on."

"'S all right, love. Take your time. I got you," he soothed, unfazed by your repeated pawing around his neck to keep your balance; sweaty palms catching his hair a few times. "Just fuckin' feel me, baby," he groaned in your ear, "and how full you feel. So fuckin' tight," he grit.

You whimpered.

The thing is, you've fucked your share of men (and women) before, but Aemond was something Godly. You felt disappointed you didn't get to physically see his glory, nor have it in your mouth, but figured there was time to admire him like a painting in the Louvre later. For now, you could only understand that Aemond was by far the biggest you've had; both in size and girth. You shuddered at the feeling of him filling you to the brim, whispering, "M-Move, please, move, just start moving, oh, my Gods. Y'Feel so fuckin' good, shit, Aemond, baby, you feel - Godsdamnit, you feel so fucking good."

Aemond did as you asked, moving his hips to drag his cockhead along your quivering walls to collect your wetness, only to push right back in; creating a languid pace as to allow you accommodation. His teeth grit tightly, "No idea what it feels like for me, sweet girl. Fuck. Who got you this wet? Huh? Who got you here? Fuckin' tell me, baby, who got you like this?"

"You, Aemond. Always you, baby, always gettin' me wet - so fuckin' wet," you babbled. "Don't even have t'do shit t'get me goin', 'M always so ready for you to have me." You felt a scream build and Aemond must've seen it because he offered you a stern look as he humped quickly into you. "Quick and quiet, right?" You complained with wide eyes, swollen lips; the perfect pout that would get you whatever you wanted from the middle Targaryen.

"Jus' for right now, can get as loud as we want later, huh?" He hissed, groaning as he readjusted his stance to increase his speed. "Hold on, princess, just hold onto me, I got us, almost there," his lips ghosted your neck before letting his teeth gnash your flesh in a show of messy dominance. "Good fuckin' girl, yes, yes," Aemond grit, flexing his jaw when he felt your arms tighten, "just hold on fa'me - can't get enough of this. Huh? Hear me? Can't ever go back, princess, not when I've had you like this - jus' fuckin' made f'me, Godsdamnit - yes, yes, yes, there's my girl, good girl, so fuckin' good for me. Shit, I don't wanna cum, I just wanna feel this pussy for as long as possible, but I can't hold it, baby, shit, I can't hold it anymore."

Your moans and grotesque sounds of Aemond's balls slapping your leaky cunt filled the hall; your mind only briefly registering the idea for a moment to let you glance up and down the hall to ensure your "privacy". Words failed you, your lungs heaving in short puffs; gripping his shoulders as if it would keep you anchored, but the truth was, his forceful hips were sending you up the fucking wall.

"Ae-Aemond," you begged brokenly, reaching for your clit and only needing to add minimal pressure; ready to shatter from the harsh thrusts your one-eyed lover provided. "I-I-I'm there. I'm there, baby, please, oh, shit!" You felt a sob lodge in your throat.

"Cum on my cock, princess," he demanded as your head tilted back to bang into the wall, sinking his teeth deep into your pulse point when exposed. "Lemme feel you, love, c'mon, just let it go. Show me - " he felt the trickling of your cum squirting out in a rare display, "oh-ho-hoooo, look at that, yes, yes, there's my good fuckin' girl. That's it, fuckin' soak me, there it is - shit, shit, oh, fuck. Grippin' me so fuckin' tight without anythin' needin' to be said. Good girl," he grunted, feeling as if stabbing through you with the way he thrusted and jackhammered his cock into your tightening cunt with each word.

Your tongue flattened against his neck, hearing his groan, and when your mouth closed down to lock your teeth over his pale flesh, sure to leave a red mark, Aemond gave a final grunt. He shuddered; hands bruising your skin as his hips stuttered once, twice, and stilled against you. Your nether region blossomed with his warmth, your lungs panting to catch your breath; feeling full as Aemond barely deflated inside you.

"Shit," you whispered.

"Yeah," he gaped in agreement, gulping harshly. "You all right, love?"

"Mhm," you nodded against him, nuzzling his cheek with your nose. "You?"

"So fuckin' good," he chuckled, glancing down the hall. "I gotta set you down, baby, 'M cramping a little. Easy does it, just hold onto me," he spoke soothingly, pulling his cock out and easing you to your feet while holding onto his neck and shoulders. "Keep my cum right there," he smirked down at you, readjusting your panties over your swollen cunt before tugging your dress back down; giving a playful slap to your clit that made you jump a little from the overstimulation. "Don't let a drop out, hmm?"

"Take that up with gravity, I got nothin' to do with it," you whined, leaning on the wall for full-support. After situating his cock back and yanking his boxers and jeans back up, Aemond dropped to a knee before you.

"Here," he whispered, lifting one of your legs to ease your shoe off. You smiled, holding onto his shoulders as he helped you remove both shoes; standing to his full height again. He looked nervous for a moment, mouth opening but closing as words evaded him.

You took mercy, smiling, "Aemond?"

"Yeah, princess?"

"Would you like to spend the night with me?"

He smirked, chuckling, "Yeah, think I would."

"Good. You get to carry me, then." Aemond grinned and moved before you realized what he was doing, swooping you into his arms. You giggled girlishly, "I need my stuff!" He glanced down at the floor to spy your shoes, purse, phone. Aemond grunted as he lowered in a squat, letting you collect your things to rest in the cradle of your belly, snickering, "You're such a show off."

"This is why we don't skip leg-day, pretty girl," he smirked, "or core day, or arm day..."

"We get it, you work out! But weren't you cramping up a minute ago?"

"Yeah, but that was then."

As he walked towards the elevator, you both heard a door open and peaked over to see one of Aemond's distant, great-uncles peaking out in confusion. "Did you guys hear that?" The older man asked hoarsely, obviously disgruntled from being woken up. "What's all that racket? We thought we could expect for a little sleep!"

You felt embarrassment flush your system, a hand slapping over your mouth - but Aemond covered, "Sorry, Uncle, the wedding parties went out drinking. Got them all safe in their rooms, except this one, though. Sorry for the noise."

He smiled, nodding as if in relief, "You're a good boy, Aemond. She all right?"

"Yes, just a little too much to drink," he chuckled, your free hand reaching over to pinch his nipple through his shirt as your other hand now hid an amused smile. "Goodnight, Uncle, there won't be other disturbances tonight."

When the elevator arrived, Aemond stepped on as this distant relative shut his door again, and as the elevator doors shut, you shared a look before bursting out in laughter. "I don't think I can face him at the wedding now," you whined lightly.

"Why not?"

"I literally have your cum dripping outta me - "

"I told you to keep it in."

You smirked, "I guess you're just gonna have to punish me, then, huh? You never did like being disobeyed, now, did you?"

Aemond laughed, his single lilac eye scanning over your face; slowly dropping in serenity. "What're we doing, baby? Hmm?" He asked quietly.

"Going to my room - "

"You know what I mean," he sighed almost sadly. When you arrived at your floor, he walked out of the elevator as you answered,

"You and I know we have feelings for each other. So, for tonight, it's just us... And we'll decide when to tell the others after we decide what it is to tell them."

"Probably best after the wedding..."

You smiled as you arrived at your hotel door, "Well, I was kinda hoping you'd be my date to the wedding?"

Aemond looked down at you with a softening expression. "Yeah?" He chuckled slightly as you opened your clutch to pull out your keycard, but his hands tightened to earn your full attention once the plastic was in your hand. "I'd... Actually really like that, too, sweetheart," he hushed, hoisting you in for another frantic kiss. The door beeped when it opened, closing with a heavy bang behind you both; forgetting Sansa was left on FaceTime... Too distracted by both being obviously turned on, it seemed, by emotional intimacy.

Perhaps not so one-sided, indeed...

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

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archangeldyke-all · 11 months ago

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Are your Sevika requests still open? 🥺👉🏽👈🏽

I have this idea in my head that I can't get out. I'm not a huge fan of the concept of having kids (not for me!) but I can't help but think of Sevika very slowly changing her attitude and priorities around fighting for the cause because she just found out she's gonna be a dad in the future. Her hesitating around something Silco asks or mentions and her being like "I..I got a kid on the way." Cis or trans Sevika, doesn't matter either way

sevika requests are always open :) and this is the cutest thing i've ever heard.

i don't want kids either, but for sevika?? i'd have so many of her kids that the doctors would have to tell me to stop before my body gives out.

men and minors dni

you and sevika don't want kids. it's not in your plan.

sevika's got a dangerous job. it took years of convincing, years of proving to her that you'd be okay without her, that you want her just as she is now, for her to finally give in and make you hers.

and you're perfectly content.

she works horrible hours and comes home beat up more often than not, but you take the time to patch her up each night, and the two of you spend every free second you have together.

she moved you into her place on your fourth date, and you've been happily living together ever since.

and two years ago, when she shyly shoved a tiny box in your hands and nervously looked away as you opened it, mumbling under her breath a question you could barely make out ('i was wonderin' if you'd like to maybe spend forever with me?') you said yes, with no hesitation.

you guys didn't get married. weddings in zaun are incredibly rare, saved only for the wealthiest, and getting a marriage certificate from piltover for two zaunite women is nearly impossible. but, you had a little ceremony in the last drop (which was really just an excuse to throw a rager) to commemorate your eternal love for one another.

and since then, you've been perfectly happy with your little life.

but, accidents happen.

accidents like sevika swearing she'll pull out, begging to feel you without the condom, then cumming the second she pushes inside of you, whimpering and apologizing and cursing your hot, wet cunt.

accidents like you sleeping through the alarm for your pill.

accidents like sevika forgetting to grab a plan b on the way home, too busy fiddling with the tooth some goon knocked loose in her jaw to remember.

and, usually, these accidents lead to nothing happening. so you and sevika assume it's safe to keep letting them happen.

but then, your period's a week late.

and then two.

and then you take a pregnancy test, and it comes out positive.

and then you take three more, and they're all positive too.

you're paralyzed with shock and fear. you spend the entire day sitting in the bathroom, staring at the positive tests on the counter, crying and laughing, then crying again.

the thing is, you're not opposed to having kids. and now that you know you'll have one in nine months or so, you're fucking elated. but you know sevika doesn't feel the same. and the thought of losing her because of the cells growing inside of you, the thought of having to choose between sevika and the tiny little fucker you're already in love with-- it kills you.

sevika comes home to find you having a panic on the bathroom floor.

"babe, you'll never guess what silco did toda-- what the fuck!?" she exclaims, immediately dropping to her knees and gathering you up in her arms. "baby-- what's wrong? are you hurt?" she asks, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her, her eyes flying over your body, checking for injuries. you just cry more, already mourning the loss of her touch that you've grown so used to.

"i-i-i'm sorry." you cry out. sevika blinks at you.

"for what?!" she asks. "baby, you're freaking me out, what's going on?" she asks, panic in her eyes.

you take a shaky breath then reach up to grab one of the tests on the counter behind you, sobbing as you bring it down to hold against your chest.

"i'm sorry, sev, i c-can't-- i don't think i can--"

"what's that?" she asks, gently reaching for your wrist to pull your hand away from your chest.

you gulp and bite your lip as you open your hand, letting her get a good look at the test.

the confusion on her face melts. a stoic look takes its place as she blinks down at the little plus sign on the little plastic test.

you look away from her face, too heartbroken to watch her process the news. tears stream down your face as sevika's hold on your wrist goes shaky, and you prepare yourself for her to pull away.

only, she doesn't.

if you had looked, you'd see the hesitant little smile pulling at the corner of her lips. if you had looked, you'd see the way she gulps like she always does when she's surprised, the tears welling up in her eyes, the way she took a silent gasp as she blinks down at the test in your hands.

you're shocked when she pulls you toward her chest, hugging you tight against her body.

"sev-- don't." you whimper. she blinks down at you.

"what-- whaddya mean 'don't'?" she asks. you take a shaky breath.

"if you're gonna leave just leave-- i can't-- you can't be nice to me, it'll kill me." you say.

sevika's heart breaks.

she's never wanted kids. and you're fine with that.

but the second she saw the test, something happened inside of her, something swirling and giddy and nervous. something kinda like how she feels for you, but a little different. a little deeper, a little less hot and a little more familiar.

everything else in her world fades away. the stories she's been dying to tell you all day, the fire in her heart for zaun, the sounds of drunkards stumbling by your apartment, it all goes silent. it's just you and her, and in that moment, sevika realizes that maybe a kid wouldn't be the worst thing in the world. especially not with you.

sevika kisses your forehead, tears welling up in her eyes at the sound of your muffled sobs.

"i'm not leaving you baby, don't be ridiclious." she says. you cry aloud at her words, wrapping your arms around her back and clawing at her shoulders, trying to pull her impossibly closer to you.

"don't say that." you whisper, shakily.

"i'm not just sayin' it. i mean it. we promised each other through thick and thin, right?" she asks. you nod against her.

"but you don't--"

"i don't care." she says. "i'm a fucking idiot, you know that." she says. you let out a shaky laugh. "i'm not leaving." she says again.

in your first trimester, sevika's still a little hesitant-- still a little distant.

she's not sure how to handle all the emotions in her body, all the love and anxiety swirling up at all times. she puts her energy into making you comfortable, holding you when morning sickness takes hold, stocking up on prenatal vitamins and your favorite snacks, pampering you even more than usual.

this, she can handle. she loves taking care of you, she loves babying you, and with all the anxiety in her mind surrounding the baby, caring for you helps her quell it.

she doesn't talk about the baby much. she's still too nervous to talk about it.

but in your second trimester, you start showing. no longer just a little extra fat on your stomach, your baby's actually visible now. your shirts start riding up your abdomen, a little swell peaking out every time you stretch or move, and she can no longer ignore it-- there's a baby in your belly. and it's hers. and it'll be here soon.

you wake up many nights with gas or aches, and find sevika already awake, a furrow in her brow and her lip between her teeth as she gnaws on it. you ask her what she's thinking about, and she just curls around your body and kisses you back to sleep.

sometimes, you wake up to her hand hesitantly rubbing your belly, like she's scared to touch you. you just rest your hand on top of hers, interlacing your fingers and keeping her hand on your stomach while you both fall back asleep.

if she was better with words, if she had the words to express herself, sevika would tell you that she's scared. she hasn't even met the little fucker yet, and she already loves it more than anything else in her life. it terrifies her, for all the same reasons you do. she has a dangerous job, and second in command to a revolution isn't a suitable job title for a new mom.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up without a parent.

sevika knows what it's like to grow up with a jaded parent, too, someone who's closed their heart off to the world to avoid being hurt, and in turn can no longer love. and she doesn't want to do that to your baby. she doesn't want to do that to you either.

and at work, when she gets in scuffles, or gets a knife drawn on her, or gets shot at, it takes her twice as long to catch her breath.

since meeting you, she's always seen your face flash before her eyes when she dodges a fatal hit. and now, it's ten times worse.

sevika was never scared to die before she met you. and then, seemingly overnight, she became horrified of dying-- scared of what her dying would do to you. she can barely stand seeing you suffer from a headache, the thought of leaving you behind, the thought of breaking your heart like that-- it nearly kills her.

and now she's got a kid to think of too.

so, one late night, sevika approaches silco with a grimace on her face and a case of fancy imported cigars in her hands.

he knows something's up. he's known for months. but he lets her stutter out an explanation as she pushes the case across his desk.

"i-- i think you need to find a new number two." she mumbles. he raises an eyebrow at her.

"second thoughts about the cause?" he asks, flipping open the lid of the case and grinning at the quality.

"no, never." she spits out. silco chuckles and holds a hand up, reassuring her that he was only teasing.

"it's your wife?" he asks. sevika blushes at the word 'wife' like she always does, then looks away.

"no. she's tough, she'd be fine without me." she says fondly. "i..." she gulps then takes a deep breath. "we've got a kid on the way, silco." she whispers.

he freezes, his jaw dropping in shock. sevika never calls him silco, no matter how many times he insists she does. she's serious.

"i didn't take you for the mothering type." he says. she chuckles.

"no, neither did i." she says with a shrug. "but... i'm not mad about it." she says. "i'm... actually really excited." she whispers.

silco laughs, then rises from his seat, rounding his desk to shake sevika's hand. it's the closest to a hug the two of them will ever get.

"you'll be an amazing mother." he says sincerely. she has to blink back tears at his words. "come, let's smoke to celebrate." he says, waving her over to his desk.

the two of them spend the night negotiating a new position in silco's crew for her. she'll stay on as his consultant and strategist, and take on more responsibilities at the legally run bar and club downstairs, but he'll be finding somebody else to take on the more dangerous and criminal aspects of her job.

sevika doesn't tell you for a few weeks, until the change is complete.

she stops coming home with bruises and scrapes. she starts being lot more openly lovey dovey, no longer waiting for the dark of night to place a hand on your stomach, praising you at any chance she can get, even buying parenting books and beginning the 'babyproofing' process.

you don't ask her what's up, knowing she'll tell you in time.

and one day, you get home from work to a home cooked meal and candles on the dinner table.

sevika grins at the sight of you. you fawn at the way she walks you to the table, pulling the chair out for you, pressing kisses to your head and shoulders.

"what's going on?" you ask, giggling as she sits beside you. (she never sits across from you, she can't touch you from the opposite end of the table.)

"i'm in love with you." she says. you laugh.

"we've been married for two years sev, you better be." you say. she laughs, and kisses you again.

"i've never been more excited for my future in my entire life." she says quietly against your lips. tears well up in your eyes as you grab her hand. "we're having a baby." she says reverently, like it's the first time she's finally processing it. you don't tease her for it, you just squeeze her hand in yours and kiss up the tears that race down her cheeks.

"we are."

"and it's gonna be here in three months." she says, a beaming smile on her lips. you smile right back and nod.

"it is."

"i... i want to be the best mother i can be for the little fucker." she whispers, staring down at your stomach. "i want to be the best wife i can be for you." she adds on, her eyes flicking back up to you.

you nod at her, still unsure of where she's going with her conversation.

"and i can't do that if i'm dead." she says. you blink and nod and she sighs. "i talked with silco. we got a new arrangement for me at work." she explains. "just paperwork from here on out." she says. "i'm gonna get all lazy and weak sittin' behind a desk but..." she shrugs. "it's worth it for you two." she says.

you abandon dinner to fuck sevika on the dining room table.

(it's not a big deal though, sevika's never been a good cook, and she tried her best, but the food that grows cold on the table was already burnt and unevenly cooked and so over-seasoned it was basically just a pan of garlic powder.)

silco, surprisingly, is incredibly invested in the little fucker. sevika comes home once or twice a week with a new onsie or toy for the baby, gifted to her by your kid's self-appointed god-father.

by your third trimester, sevika's more excited than you are for the baby to come into the world, which is a hard feat, because you're constantly achy and sore and peeing and bloated and uncomfortable and cursing sev for ever putting her hands on you in the first place. she takes all your complaints in stride, endlessly spoiling you, constantly massaging your feet and tits and shoulders, pressing kisses against all your hormonal acne and strange patches of hair, accompanying you to the bathroom the fifty times you have to go a day.

and when your daughter finally arrives, sevika cries like a baby the first time she holds her.

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#stay tuned because the next request is answering an ask about sevika during readers labor and delivery!!!#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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nvrsaidiwasinurcloset · 11 months ago

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im not sure if youre necessarily comfortable with this, so feel free to ignore this if you're not, but GOOODDD i just thought it was the cutest idea ever. possibly a series idea?

imagining reader finding out she's pregnant with ethan's baby after the costume frat party, due to quinn's suspicions bc of how sick reader was for almost two weeks then. though being unable to tell ethan, due to the whole ghostface thing pretty much ruining whatever chance she had to tell him, especially bc the group were SUPER suspicious of him and wouldn't leave him alone with her (prob bc reader told the group during the whole dinner before ethan, as gf attacked the apartment but left reader alone) but time skip a little, ethans put in a psych ward for a couple months to deal with the trauma from his dad & just being pressured into being ghostface, and he decides to go back and visit his girlfriend because he didn't really have anywhere else to go, but when he arrived at her front door, the last thing he was expecting was to see her with a small baby girl in her arms. (in this essay, i will expand more on my girldad! ethan landry age-) BUT reader doesn't necessarily trust ethan around her at first, and for good reason to, considering he literally tried to kill her and the core five (reader was apart of the woodsboro group, was possibly dating amber??) and ethan has to pretty much work his ass off to regain her trust again. just fluff, to angst to fluff again

I hope you like this!!!!!💕

Flames - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This is going to be a series! It'll definitely have a lot of angst and fluff for those kind sweet souls that have been asking me for it:)

Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: Pregnancy, mentions of death, suggestion to sex(but not graphic:)

Summary: After surviving Woodsboro, attacks are happening again to your friend group in NYC.

It’d been a little over a month since the infamous Halloween frat party. That night was crazy, especially after Sam tazed some loser’s balls. When the night was cut short, you decided to go back to Ethan and Chad’s dorm while Chad was going with Tara. You hadn’t had much alone time with Ethan, so you had to take advantage of every opportunity you got.

When the condom broke that night, you went out to get a Plan B the next morning, knowing you and Ethan weren’t ready to be parents yet. What you didn’t know was that you were ovulating at the time, and that the future-saving morning after pill wouldn’t work.

When you started to get sick every day, Quinn started to pick up on it. She had her suspicions and asked you to take a test. Your heart sank when you saw the plus sign, but you had no idea how to tell Ethan. Especially when Mindy was so convinced that he was one of the prime suspects in the most recent killings happening around campus. You didn’t know what to believe, especially after your ex-girlfriend was one of the people killing off your friends in Woodsboro the year before. She even tried to kill you, but you were saved after getting stabbed four times.

As you sat at the table with your friends, you couldn’t keep your secret any longer. Quinn already knew, but you had to tell the rest of them.

As Chad started his “Core Five” speech, and Sam confessed to her fling with Danny, you decided it was the right time to let it out.

“I’m pregnant,” you blurted out, the room instantly getting silent.

Everyone exchanged glances as your cheeks turned red.

“Wait…what?” Chad asked, his shocked expression very similar to everyone else’s.

“Is that why you keep getting sick?” Sam asked, before Mindy spoke up.

“Okay, this is one of the main rules. You aren’t supposed to have sex!”

You rolled your eyes, “It’s a little too late for that advice. Shouldn’t that rule be updated, though? Everyone is sleeping with someone.”

“But you’re the one sleeping with a killer,” she smirked, “Sweet, dorky Ethan is Ghostface. Just like Amber.”

“You don’t know that,” you said, as she scoffed.

“Where is he right now?” she questioned, everyone’s eyes landing on you again.

“He’s at Econ.”

Everyone’s phones started to chime. It made you all feel uneasy, your heart pounding as you saw the picture of Ghostface with Quinn.

You all jumped up, standing outside of her bedroom door. You were hoping it was some sick prank, but after the events that happened in Woodsboro, you knew it wasn’t.

You didn’t have much time to think of a plan before the masked figure threw Quinn’s body out of the room, resting against you before she fell to the floor. When Ghostface charged out of the room, you were in the direct path, but they went around you. You noticed Chad and Tara running out the front door, following them to what would hopefully be safety. The second you made it out, the door slammed behind you, and you heard the numerous locks on the door click.

“Fuck, guys!” you yelled to Tara and Chad who were a few sets of stairs down from you. “They’re still in there! The door just got locked!”

They ran back up, the sounds of Chad’s fists banging on the door and the screaming coming from inside the apartment echoing off the walls.

“I don’t have my keys or my phone,” you panicked, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“I don’t either,” Tara said, pounding on the door and screaming for Sam.

After a few minutes, the screams became fainter. You started to lose hope, thinking that all your friends inside were dead. The three of you were crying outside of the door, before Chad spoke up.

“I need to get you two somewhere safe,” he said, nudging you and Tara towards the stairs.

When you made it outside, you bumped into Sam, Mindy and Danny. Mindy was sobbing, and Sam’s face was somber.

“Where’s Anika?” you asked, as Mindy cried harder. Your eyes went wide, “No…”

“Anika and Quinn,” was all Sam could get out before getting choked up.

You all cried as you hugged each other on the sidewalk when the cop cars pulled up. Everyone was questioned before Detective Bailey arrived. He was closest to you because you were the closest to Quinn. He treated you like a daughter, regularly taking you and Quinn out for dinner. You tried to comfort him as he cried, but you didn’t know how to. He’d already lost one of his children in a car accident, and the other was murdered in the room next to yours.

When the ambulance arrived, they kept trying to find the source of your bleeding. You started to feel faint as you tried to explain that it was Quinn’s blood on you, your vision getting spotty. You dropped to your knees, unable to keep your balance. When Sam told the paramedics that you were pregnant, they put you on the stretcher and monitored you as the sun started to rise.

“I’m okay, really,” you said, after an hour of laying there. They were in the process of giving you an IV, hoping the fluids would help with your extreme dizziness.

“The bag’s close to empty. You’re almost done,” the paramedic said, hooking you up to the machine to check your vitals for what felt like the hundredth time.

You watched Mindy get her stitches, completely unfazed. She was so heartbroken, and you just wanted to hug her and tell her everything was going to be okay. You could only imagine what it would’ve felt like if you were in her position, and Ethan was the one laying under the tarp.

As your IV was finally getting taken out, Ethan pushed through the crowd of people and lifted the caution tape to walk over towards everyone. Chad jumped up, having a heated exchange with Ethan as he shoved him against a car.

“I had Econ!” you heard him yell, his eyes scanning the friend group. “Where is she?”

“Ambulance,” Chad said, as Ethan’s eyes connected with yours. He ran towards you, before Mindy stopped him.

“Stay the fuck away from her, Ghostface,” she snapped, as Ethan looked back towards you.

“Jesus Christ, I had Econ!”

“It’s okay, Mindy,” you mumbled, as she moved so Ethan could join you in the back of the ambulance.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked, grabbing your hand. His eyes were filled with panic.

“I’m okay, I just got really dizzy earlier.”

“Thank god, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” Mindy scoffed at his words, thinking about Anika.

After checking out the abandoned theater, and Gale getting attacked, you decided that you needed to head back to Woodsboro. You needed to be with your family, and as much as you wanted to be there for your friends, they were all supportive of you going home. You didn’t have just your own life to think about anymore, so you needed to be somewhere safe.

Ethan was really sad when you left, crying as he said goodbye to you at the airport while the rest of your friends watched. They didn’t trust you alone with him, they all had their suspicions that he was the cause for everything that was happening.

“Please be safe,” you said, hugging Tara.

“You too. Let me know how everything goes after you get back home,” she said, alluding to the current situation, not wanting Ethan to overhear and wonder what she was talking about.

“I will.” you said, “I love you guys,” you waved, walking towards security.

You couldn’t tell Ethan about the baby, even though you were terrified that something could happen to him, and he’d never know he had a child. There was this awful feeling in the pit of your stomach. It could’ve been the trauma from your relationship with Amber, but you had no idea she was behind the Woodsboro murder spree, when you thought you knew everything about her. You thought you knew Ethan, but now you weren’t so sure.

When your plane landed, it felt surreal. Woodsboro was never a safe place to be, and now it was. When you made it to the entrance of the airport, your mom was crying, so happy that you were okay. You hadn’t told her about the baby yet, not wanting to send her into shock. She wanted to take you out for dinner, which you agreed to. The lack of food over the last couple days made you feel weak.

“Do you have anything special you want to do when you get home? Do you want to watch a movie or something?” she asked as she sat across the table from you.

“No, I really just want to sleep. Maybe tomorrow,” you smiled, taking a bite of your food.

You pulled out your phone to see a few texts from your friends, all of them checking to make sure you made it back okay. Then you noticed one from Ethan.

Ethan: I love you so much, and I miss you already. I can’t wait to see you again.

You: I love you too, baby

“You okay?” your mom asked, noticing the sad expression on your face.

“I can’t stop thinking about last year…about Amber. How could I have been so wrong about her?” you sighed, your mom’s sympathetic eyes meeting yours.

“She was sick, baby. I’m not trying to downplay it, because she killed two of my friends…and I know you were devastated when Wes and Liv were killed. She just had issues and needed serious help.”

Your mom got sad every time she talked about Dewey and Judy, you did too. You hated when she mentioned Wes because that was the death you took the hardest. Liv was the one Mindy suspected last time, and she was wrong then. You wanted so badly for her to be wrong this time, too.

When you made it home, you went upstairs and crawled into your bed. You felt safe with the alarm set downstairs, and your parents close by. You were finally able to get some much-needed rest.

Your mom woke you up the next morning, wanting to make sure she told you the news before you woke up and saw it yourself. Your heart broke as you listened to her speak about the few details that had been released. You checked your phone to see a text from Tara.

Tara: We’re okay, Chad’s in the hospital…but Ethan was in on it.

#ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 3 months ago

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Hey!

Don't feel bad, the hurricane had came on us too. It happens to everyone. I had phone turned off due to being unable to charge it without power.

Anyway, we are heading in for the Halloween season and I wonder if I could request this if you're not busy with anything else.

Can you do a smut with a yandere zombie greaser x survivor fem reader?

Got this idea from the renewed video game, Lollipop chainsaw repop if you hadn't played it before.

A/N: Sure!

TW: Smut, infection, biting, brattiness, dubcon(just because of the whole virus thing)

The zombie apocalypse, or rather, the infection apocalypse has been the worst moment of your life. Thousands of zombies wander outside, and you're stuck inside with your three-year supply of food. The local news has gone silent, and all you've heard from the national news is that the military will move in in a couple of days, exterminating the zombies roaming around, and then curing the ones that aren't too far gone. All you have to do is survive tonight, and you'll be free by tomorrow afternoon.

Unfortunately, when you wake up this morning, you feel different. You feel cold and sluggish, and your mouth feels extremely dry. Everything about moving and operating your body feels hard. You force yourself out of bed, and when you look in the mirror, you discover a horrifying sight. You're infected. The black veins have already spread to your face. You're in the last stage of infection before you become the monsters outside.

Tears flow from your eyes and you fall to the ground. You were so close to freedom. So close to moving on. So close to surviving. Now it's all over. You crawl to your supply of medicine and pop an Alieve, antibiotics, Tamiflu, and some multivitamins. You pour some Liquid I.V. packets into a bottle of water, then sipping it. You don't know if it will help, but it might give your body a fighting chance. But just for good measure, you tie your non-dominant to the closet door knob and stare at yourself in the mirror. Hopefully, when you wake up, the military will be there to either put you out of your misery or save you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Darling."

You open your eyes and there's a zombie standing in front of you. His skin is pale, eyes still have color, and his hair is slicked back like a greaser from the 50s.

"Darling, you ok? Who did this to you?" He asks, touching your hand.

Your dominant hand swings the knife at him, slicing his cheek real good. His wound heals instantly, and he growls.

"Ha, listen here, toots. I didn't infect you just to only be paid back in blood," He says, tossing the knife to the other side of the room. "Now take a good look at yourself in the mirror. You're not like the others outside partially because of your own efforts, and because you got infected by me."

For the first time, you see yourself in the mirror since taking the pills. Black veins only stopped on your mouth and ears. The rest of your face was ok. You were ok. You are going to be ok. Tears fall down your eyes, and your devoted zombie licks them off of you.

"How? How did you infect me? I don't remember seeing you anywhere," You say, looking at the zombie.

"It took a bit of work, but I managed to figure out the code for your door. All I did was use your toothbrush, then I let you do the rest of the work," The zombie explains, irritating you.

"I would've preferred if you bit me in my sleep," You deadpan, realizing you got infected in such a lame way.

"I think I can arrange that," The zombie says, kissing your lips, then biting your lips. "The name's Brody, by the way."

You feel so close to him, even though you've never seen him your entire life. It feels like your entire being wants to never leave him. You want to-no- you need to follow him your entire life. He's your creator, he made you this way. He's your leader. Feeling all these things made you uncomfortable.

"Aww, don't be so upset. That's just the small amount of virus in your brain. It's telling you to submit to me and never leave the one who infected you. Why do you think there are so many hoards of them outside?" Brody states, carrying you in his arms. "You do want to submit to me, right? I've been keeping away zombies from your door, and protecting you during your excursions. You could at least pay me back."

"Ok, I'll pay you back," You say, letting him place you on the bed. "What do you want?"

"Hmm, how about a couple more smooches, a little fun to satisfy my other appetite, and some of your medical supplies?" Brody suggests, seeing you look at his crotch. "But I suppose we could do two of things at once."

He kisses you, savoring the spit going into his mouth. You start to undress him and vice versa, soon enough you're both left naked. You stare at his cock, amazed at the fact it looks normal. There are no black veins, no signs of infection anywhere.

"What? Never seen a cock this beautiful?" Brody teases, waving it in front of your face.

"You smell so good," You moan, losing yourself for a moment. "Eep! I'm so sorry! That just came out, I didn't mean to say-"

"Don't worry about it. You smell really good too. Look good too," Brody comments, looking at your fit body. "You took good care of yourself during the apocalypse."

You giggle, pulling him towards you. Brody kisses your neck and makes his way down. Just as he licks your pussy, you pull his head up.

"Straight to fucking," You demand, looking at him mischievously.

Brody sits up, making himself a seat for you.

"Wow, someone's personality is really showing through. Well come on and have a seat," Brody says, stroking his cock as you crawl over to him and straddle his lap. "I'm to rock your infected world."

He suddenly moves your hips down, causing his cock to go into your pussy. You look at him struggle to not moan, and start moving your hips up and down.

"Darling, stop it. You're not playing fair," Brody whines, putting both hands on your hips and trying to control your movements.

"So? You didn't play fair when you infected me using a toothbrush," You retort, moving faster. "It would've been more dignified if you bit me."

Brody throws his head back in pleasure, and you enjoy your body torturing him like this. When Brody regains some control of himself, he looks at your neck. You start to move faster, goading him some more. Brody kisses your neck, then gently bites it sending waves of ecstasy through your whole body.

"Ah!" You moan, your back arching backward as he holds onto you. "Wait, no fair!"

"Sorry, toots. I get to be in control now," Brody laughs, gently tapping your cheek and kissing it. "Now, you're not going to move your little hips unless my hands do it, ok?"

"Yes," You moan, letting Brody slow down your pace, and delay your release.

"There we go, nice and slow. Can't have you getting too excited," Brody says, enjoying the sight of your bouncy ass.

"Please go back to the pace I was at. I was so close," You whine, trying to move your hips faster.

"Bad girl!" Brody scolds, slapping your ass. "Now then, since you want to be like that, I'll have to keep you busy. Hands and arms around my neck now. We're doing it my way."

"Yes, Brody," You say, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Good girl, see how easy that was," Brody coos, kissing your lips. "Now keep them there until you cum, ok?"

Brody starts to move your hips faster and you struggle to keep your arms around him. You start whimpering as your pussy practically starts to milk his cock. Brody starts to lose himself, and his eyes start to lose color. He's biting his bottom lip so hard blood is spilling out.

"Please, please, please, go faster!" You whine, licking his blood from his lips, pushing him over the edge.

He starts to maneuver your hips extremely fast, and you're both lost in pleasure. Your ass tightens up and you tell him you're cumming.

"Brody, I'm about to cum-ah!" You moan, orgasming on his dick.

"Me too, toots," Brody moans, holding you tighter as he shoots his load into you. "Wow, you were great."

"Same to you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Brody stays with you until the military comes, and when they enter the room, you're both injected with a syringe getting rid of all the black veins. You're taken to a facility with the rest of the cured, and the two of you stay together. His bite mark on your neck like a sick hickey.

"So how did you get infected?" You ask, walking with Brody down the hospital hallway.

"In an even more lame and embarrassing way than yours. I got bit by a mosquito that had drunk a zombie's blood," Brody says, his classic black biker jacket around your shoulders.

You laugh and he teasingly slaps your ass.

"Now I know why you chose to infect me with a toothbrush. You had to share the embarrassment with someone," You snicker, making Brody roll his eyes.

"Yeah, I guess. But as far as everyone else knows, you were bitten by me, and I got infected by drinking contaminated water," Brody says, letting you put his head on your shoulder.

"I think I can live with that."

#yandere smut #yandere teratophilia #yandere zombie #yandere dubcon #sanyuthewitch05 #asks

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lovealexhunt · 4 months ago

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If you've followed me for any length of time, you would know that mental health awareness and suicide prevention are two topics that I hold very close to my heart.

I've struggled with depression and anxiety since I was a child. My parents didn't believe in mental health challenges and so my struggles were ignored and I was made to feel as though my struggles weren't real and something was wrong with me. I buried my mental health issues, hiding behind a mask of perfectionism and over-achieving. Those I saw in school or work, never know how greatly I struggled. However, hiding how I felt only made things worse and I struggled with suicide thoughts and attempts for a few years before finally seeing a doctor to get help.

I take medication for both depression and anxiety. These medications help take the edge off but they're not a cure. They aren't a magic pill that makes everything okay again. But they help and for that I am grateful.

I still struggle with depression and anxiety on a daily basis. There are days when the suicide thoughts creep back out, but through my experiences and working to raise awareness, I feel strong enough to remind myself they are just thoughts and I don't have to act on them. I hope that if it ever got that bad again, I would use some of the strategies from above: focusing on creative works, reaching out to others, trying to find reasons to be grateful.

Thinking positively or thinking "happy thoughts" is not easy. Sometimes I see and encouraging quote and they make me mad because I can't feel that way right now, but I still save them, because maybe tomorrow, that little reminder will be just what i need.

If you know me, I believe in the small little acts to make a difference. I've been making mental health awareness and suicide prevention posts for several years now, but I don't think I've ever had an image dedicated to small acts of kindness.

We don't know what anyone is facing (in person or virtually/online). With some, spotting signs of depression and suicidal tendencies is easier to spot. These individuals display more common signs and symptoms. But there are many more people who are high-functioning. On the surface, they seem put together, but underneath they are struggling. It is because of this that I so strongly believe in little acts of kindness: sending an encouraging word, checking in on others, giving little compliments here and there... these are small things, but you never know how big of an impact they can make.

Please continue to raise and spread awareness for depression and suicide prevention. It's only together that we can make a difference.

#suicide #tw:suicide #suicide awareness #suicide prevention #suicide prevention month #suicide awareness month #mental health #mental health matters #self care #lovealexhunt #about #get help #mental health support #tw: suicide #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #mental health resources

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missvelvetsstuff · 20 days ago

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The Situation Room

Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: After a mission almost gone wrong, Tony brings back Bucky's former assistant, who is also Bucky's ex. Can they work together without hurting each other? Will the whole truth about their break up finally come out?

Previous chapter

Maria looked at the floor "A background check was done by someone I thought I could trust but was apparently a double agent. When I did some digging I found that her real name is Emily Megan Pierce. I think Radar is in real trouble."

Chapter 11

Notes: I had this chapter half done on Monday and my mother in law passed early Tuesday morning so I've been helping my husband go thru her things and make funeral arrangements. I didn't think I'd finish this chapter but my insomnia decided to rear its head and here I am. We have a lot going on so idk when the next update will be but I've already started writing so hopefully not too long.

Warnings: swearing, angst

A week later the Avengers were still coming up empty in their search for Radar. Bucky and Maria had barely slept or eaten, both wracked with anxiety and guilt. They barely spoke except to go thru any leads they found and fight with each other over who was at fault. Each went from blaming the other to turning on themselves.

Bucky looked like Hell. Greasy hair, red rimmed eyes with dark circles. His face was gaunt from lack of food, he just couldn't eat it sleep no matter how he tried.

Maria was worse off since she had no enhancements. Every time she dozed off at the table in the situation room, she startled awake and downed more caffeine pills with a coffee chaser.

Nick Fury had been offsite for a few days, trying to connect with some of his informants to see if they had heard anything. When he arrived he was shocked to see the terrible shape they were in.

"Hill! Barnes! Get up and go to bed before I have a sedative administered and you're dragged back to your quarters."

His voice allowed no disagreement.

Maria clumsily stood up and shook her head "Boss, I can't. We have to find her." Her eyes filled with tears "She's, she was. Fuck" she wiped the tears away before they could fall. She held back a sob "I have to find her".

Nick grabbed her arms and ran his hands up to rub her shoulders, speaking softly "Maria. I know and we will find her but you're no good to me, to her, like this. You know there will likely be a fight to get her back and right now you would be a liability in a fight." He quickly hugged her. "Get something to eat and get some rest. I promise you'll be the first person notified when we get a lead."

He looked over at Bucky "I didn't forget you, Sargent. Go hit your rack and you'll be notified as soon as we have anything."

Bucky grumbled something but headed back to his room.

Fury sighed "Friday? Tell Rogers and Romanoff to come man the situation room while they sleep."

"Yes, Director Fury."

Two more weeks passed with no sign of Radar. There had been a couple of leads but they didn't pan out.

Bucky was feeling desperate. After being miserable for two years he had been hopeful, happy even and she was torn away from him.

After 6 long months the entire team was ready to give up but Bucky and Maria wouldn't stop. Both of them ended up being suspended because they couldn't focus on missions.

2 weeks after he was suspended, Bucky went to Radar's room, with flowers, as the sun was starting to rise. It was her birthday and he needed to feel closer to her. It was still dark in her room and he left the lights off, setting the flowers on her dresser and sitting on her bed.

He heard a yelp and jumped back up, shouting "Who the Hell are you? What are you doing in here?"

The lump mumbled and pushed the blanket down "What do you mean, Barnes? It's my room." She sat up "I know we've been getting along and all but letting yourself into my room without knocking is too much." She yawned "Besides, I'm sleepy. Come back after noon."

Bucky stared at her in shock then multiple questions rushed out "Y/N? When did you get back? Where have you been? Are you ok? What's going on?"

Radar yawned again "What are you talking about Barnes? I'm fine and haven't been anywhere. I dozed off after our talk and you carried me to bed." She looked up at him, confused "Didn't you? Maybe I was just too tired to remember coming to bed?"

Bucky couldn't speak for a moment, trying to figure out what she was saying "Y/N are you talking about the night you told me all about your past?"

Radar sighed "Yes, last night. What else would I be talking about?"

Bucky took a deep breath before speaking again "Doll, that was almost 7 months ago. Today is your birthday."

Radar scoffed "I don't think so Barnes, I'm not falling for your tricks. Was it Sam's idea?"

She climbed out of bed and put her robe on "I feel like I haven't slept at all and you have to come in with some prank."

Bucky stammered. "N n no no no, sweetheart, it it's not a joke. You went missing the morning after our talk. I've, I mean we we've been losing my I mean our minds trying to find you."

Radar shook her head "Seriously? Then why don't I remember anything after our talk last nite? I'm impressed with your commitment to the bit but I'm not buying it."

Bucky sighed "Fine, don't believe me. Friday, what day is it?"

Friday gave the date and that it was Radar's birthday.

Radar scowled at him "Then Tony's in on this too, he could have reprogrammed Friday to say that when you asked."

"Friday, when was Radar last in the compound"

Friday replied with the date Radar had disappeared including "6 months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago."

Radar sighed "Bucky, please. I'm too tired for this."

He grabbed her hand "Come on, I'll show you." And pulled her out of the room. She followed him into the hallway and towards the kitchen where she could hear the muted sound of people talking and moving around.

Radar saw Sam exit the kitchen and walk down the hall towards them, distracted by his phone until he ran into Bucky.

Sam looked up and smirked when he saw Bucky but his face dropped when he realized there was a woman who ran into Bucky's back when he stopped.

Sam looked back to Bucky and frowned "Who's your little friend here, Robocop?" When Radar pulled away from Bucky, Sam's jaw dropped "What the-" before his face broke into a huge smile as tears filled his eyes.

He reached for Radar to give her a hug and squeezed her tight "Holy shit, you're back. And in one piece. Damn, we've missed you."

Radar coughed and wheezed out "You're crushing me."

Sam let her go "I'm sorry but we thought we'd never see you again."

Radar shook her head and scowled at him "Of course you're in on this stupid prank. You just saw me yesterday. I haven't gone anywhere and I'm not falling for it."

Sam looked at Bucky with a question in his eyes "What is she talking about? What prank?"

Bucky shrugged "I went in her room to leave flowers for her birthday today, sat on her bed and there she was. Insisting that she never left. Thinks it's some elaborate prank since Friday confirmed what I told her. I thought seeing the rest of the team would convince her I was telling the truth."

Radar rolled her eyes "I have to give you both props for your commitment to the gag but I think I'd remember if I had left the compound or been kidnapped. So I'm still not buying it."

Bucky tried to calm her down "Ok, doll, calm down. Lets just get you some water and you can go back to bed, ok."

Radar shrugged "Whatever you want, I just need more sleep."

As they walked towards the kitchen, the voices became clearer. It was Steve and Nat joking around about some mission but Radar could feel that something was wrong, their voices had a sad lilt to them.

Steve looked past the breakfast bar and saw Bucky "Hey Buck, you want some eggs and bacon? I'm just getting started so can throw some extra in for you."

As Bucky came closer Steve saw someone behind him "Who do you have there? Is that Wanda? Does she want some food?"

Bucky stopped and pulled Radar out from behind him "What do you think, doll? Hungry for some eggs?"

Steve dropped the bowl he was mixing the eggs in, not even noticing when it hit the floor, broke and splashed eggs everywhere "Radar? When did you? But how? Where was?"

While Steve couldn't get a whole thought out, Nat jumped over the breakfast bar and pulled Radar into a hug. Nat started crying and babbling into Radar's shoulder "You're here, ohmygawd, you came back we thought-"

Radar interrupted "I know, I know, I was kidnapped and you thought I was dead or you'd never see me again. Damn, Nat, I'm disappointed, I didn't think you were into these dumb jokes that Sammy loves so much. I'm still not buying it."

Nat pulled back and looked at Radar, confused, then she turned to Bucky "What's she talking about?"

Bucky shrugged "Last thing she remembers is the night before she disappeared. She thinks we're playing a joke on her."

Radar shook her head "I'm impressed with your commitment to the gag but I'm supposed to believe I've just lost the last..." She turns to Bucky "what did you say today was?"

Bucky sighed "It's your birthday. You've been missing for over 6 months."

"Right. I've lost the last 6 plus months with zero memory. I mean really, would you believe it?"

Steve sighed "It's true but I think we need a team meeting. Friday, please call the team to the common room, asap. Fury and Hill too."

"Of course, Captain."

Radar walked into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee, leaning against the counter as she sipped at it.

Multiple footsteps and voices came up the hall until Bruce and Wanda stopped in their tracks when they saw Radar.

Wanda squealed "Radar! You're back. Are you-"

Radar looked around at her friends with growing fear in her eyes "Ok guys, that's enough. You can let it go now, nice attempt to prank me but it's getting old."

Wanda looked at Bucky with questions in her eyes.

Radar heard Tony and Nick chatting in the other direction before they came into view and stopped dead when they saw her. They stared for a minute before looking at the team.

After a moment of tense silence Maria arrived and started crying as soon as she saw Radar "Radar? You're here? You're ok? I th, we thought you were-"

She couldn't keep talking as she sobbed and ran up to hug Radar.

Radar eyes grew wide and she went from nervous to terrified, knowing that Maria never took part in any of the teams pranks. She felt her knees buckle under her and Bucky barely caught her before she hit the floor. Nick grabbed Maria and walked her over to a chair.

Radar felt her heart racing and started hyperventilating, she tried to speak but couldn't catch her breath as Bucky whispered soothing words and rubbed her back. He helped her to the sofa and sat her next to him.

Tony was the next person to speak "This is not what I was expecting when Friday told me Cap wanted the team here but finding our wayward angel is the best surprise I can think of so does anyone want to fill me in?"

Bucky nodded "I went into her room because it's her birthday and when I sat on her bed, she yelled, scaring the shit outta me. Insists that she wasn't gone and accused me of pulling some prank. She didn't even believe Friday. I figured I'd bring her out so everyone could tell her but she didn't believe any of us." He looked at her "She seems to believe now."

Radar felt tears running down her face "I swear, the last thing I remember is having a hard time sleeping and talking to Bucky. I think we fell asleep on the couch watching tv. Then I woke up in my bed a few minutes ago when Bucky sat on me." She looked at him "What's going on?"

Bucky kept rubbing her back and told her about Meghan coming to her room and leaving the compound with her, how they discovered Meghan was Alexander Pierce's daughter. How they had been searching for her or any clue what had happened but every lead was a dead end and how she definitely wasn't there last night.

Tony spoke up "I don't know what happened but the first thing we need to do is wake Helen Cho and have her perform a complete physical to make sure you're ok and see if there are any clues to help solve this mystery."

Radar nodded "Yeah, uh ok. I don't know how anyone could wipe my memory like that but I can't remember a damn thing." She tried to focus and concentrate but it made her head ache and the harder she tried, the worse the pain was until she cried out.

Bucky pulled her into him "Hey, doll, it's gonna be ok. Don't hurt yourself trying to remember right now. I'll take you up to see Helen and we'll figure this out, ok?

I'll be right by your side for as long as you need me. I promise."

Radar looked at Bucky with tears in her eyes "Ok. I'm scared of what she will find but I need to know what the fuck is going on."

Steve started over with breakfast and Radar sat quietly, picking at her food until Friday told them that Helen was ready to see her. The team followed them to the medbay, Bucky holding her hand the entire way.

"Don't worry, doll. I've got you and I won't let go for as long as you need me."

Radar nodded and followed him into an exam room.

@unaxv @calwitch @buckitostan @cjand10 . @vicmc624 @sandrab02

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes x reader #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #angst with a happy ending #james bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #the situation room

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girl-failure · 8 months ago

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Transwoman needs answers

this isnt an easy post to write and it's going to be full of info about me that's personal and embarassing but I am desperate for answers and assitance so please bear with me. Long story short, im almost 3 years hrt (may 19th will be exact) and it's like nothing has changed. More info under the cut.

I'm going to try and explain everything to the best of my memory, but exact dosages and stuff might be fuzzy and inexact. I began HRT on May 19th 2021, when I was 22. I took one and a half 2mg pills, twice (morning and night) daily. I took them sublingually. I was also prescribed Spironolactone, though the exact dose escapes me (i remember it was 1 pill nightly). I had only come out as trans in the December the previous year, so i considered myself unfathomably lucky to get to start so soon. I had done this through informed consent at a planned parenthood and was excited by the possibility of a future where my own body didn't make me want to die. The idea of changing my body gave me a feeling of control in my life that had been entirely absent until that point. I knew I wanted all the help I could get with breast development (the women in my immediate family are well endowed) and I had read & heard from other trans women that prog could help, but I'd have to wait to ask for it.

I think it was on December 15, 2021, I was officially prescribed 100 progesterone nightly. At this point I had began to notice softer skin, lighter hair, the few bits of acne left over from high school had gone entirely, and the inklings of breasts beginning to form. My libido had all but dissipated entirely at that point, but I was told (mostly by other trans women) it would come back, especially after starting prog, and that my body would likely experience pleasure differently, and that my orgasm would be very different. The fat from my stomach (i wasn't overweight or underweight, i was pretty average for a man my height, but I did have a masculine stomach I despised) hadn't relocated at all, but I knew HRT wasn't a sprint, but a marathon, and I had a long way to go. This continued for a long time, eventually i would be bumped up to two 2mg of E (sublingual pill) twice daily (8mg total), and my Spiro would change to 200mg a day EDIT: My Spiro dosages did fluctuate, though again I don't recall the exact dosages, (I initially got it confused with my prog dosage, sorry), though there was the occasional few week period where I'd be bumped back down to one and a half E pills because I had timed my blood-work poorly. It had been a while since starting HRT and I was starting to worry. My libido never came back, I was unable to feel the sensation of pleasure entirely, my breasts & nipples never became sensitive or had growth pains, and my breasts really hadn't grown at all. My stomach still made me feel awful and masculine because fat continued to pile up there instead of in the feminine places I was told and led to believe it should!!! I was scared and frightened and upset. I'd say I developed an eating disorder but my eating was already disordered. I was afraid of food. Afraid it'd just make me look manly, instead of going to my hips/waist/whatever and breasts like it was supposed to. I began to feel like the hrt that was supposed to save my life was just making me feel worse.

On October 23rd, 2023, I finally started seeing a doctor again after 9 years of not being able to afford it, and only then because a parent got insurance through their work. I was officially prescribed Estradiol Valerate (.3mL intramuscular, and the bottle itself is 20mg/mL) , and quit Spiro outright. Now that I was talking to a doc, especially one who had been working with trans people in my area for years, I was starting to have hope again that maybe injections would solve my problems. After all, they're supposed to be more powerful right? Well after some blood-work revealing that my T levels were so low they were undetectable, we started fiddling with my injection dosages. I went down to .25mL. Nothing changed. I went down to .2ml. Nothing changed. I stayed at .2mL and was prescribed a med called EstraTest (.625mg E and 1.25mg T), a single pill which has both E and T in it, to try and raise my T levels back to measurable levels and hopefully find that golden ratio of E and T where maybe my body will start working again and start changing. But that brings us today. I still don't feel any sensation of pleasure (masturbating is pointless, intimacy just feels like I'm disappointing my partner), let alone a female orgasm (which as embarrassing as it is to admit, I was really looking forward to), my nipples still don't get sensitive and my chest doesn't get sore or get growing pains. My breasts look the same way they did 4 months into hrt. I've still had practically no fat redistribution, though I've gotten better about eating and not being afraid of food. I'm even beginning to notice my acne slowing starting to come back. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Why has nothing worked? Why does it feel like I'm regressing? I lost my health insurance earlier this week, and I can't afford to see my doctor again with my dumb pizza delivery job, so I haven't been able to ask to try anything more drastic to try and fix these issues. My current theories are that maybe my body is just more resistant to E? Which would be awful, but might be handled by just tripling my dose or something? Or

that my receptors are fried, and that the only solution would be to stop taking my HRT for a while (maybe even a long while). I pray that isn't the case, because I'd sooner off myself then let my body regress any further.

So this is a call for help. If anyone has any idea what could be causing these problems for me, or knows how I might be able to fix them, PLEASE let me know. I've lost hope in having a future as a woman, or even just feeling apathy towards my body (instead of intense self-loathing) at this point.

Here's my ca$happ if anyone wants to throw some money my way and maybe I'll be able to see the doctor again. cash.app/$occultChloe

#trans #transgender #trans woman #help #please help #trans crowdfund #trans fundraiser #mtf hrt #hrt #hormones

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godilovemyhusband · 6 months ago

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It's been three years since I've been married to my husband. My husband proposed to me after a year since we had been together, and not once did I have any doubts – I knew he was the man I wanted to spend my life with.

When I write a story and, for example, think about how to write characters who were in love with each other but were separated, I think about how I feel when my husband is not next to me, how I would survive a forced separation from him.

When I think of a couple talking for the first time I try to remember how we tried to be careful with each other, what I thought about when I looked at him, what feelings accompanied me.

When I write intimate scenes I draw on what I myself feel, realising that sex with the person you love is always more than physical relief – it's a desire for closeness, for comfort, for the feeling of another, beloved body as close as possible.

In life and in writing, it's the details that matter most: when I feel my husband I love kissing his arms, embracing him, feeling his bare chest pressed against my breasts, hearing his heavy breath against my ear, his hands clenched on my exposed skin.

When it's over, he always cuddles his face between my breasts and falls asleep like that, because it is the safest place on earth for him.

When he can't fall asleep he calls out to me and then I come to stroke his head. He didn't believe it at first, but it really works on him and calms him down enough that he sleeps like a baby.

When I have my period, he always asks if he should buy me chocolate or my favourite sandwich, he makes sure I have my pills and that I somehow survive this terrible time.

When I can't fall asleep, my husband sings to me or reads a book aloud while stroking my head. Often when I wake up in the night he is lying so his face is snuggled into my back.

If it weren't for him, none of my stories would have been written. Everything I write about, my intuition for driving the story and the characters, stems from what we have both experienced and are still experiencing.

He repeatedly told me that he hoped he would die before me, because he would not be able to live in a world without me, and according to him I would manage it.

Like every anniversary, I will give him my handwritten letter telling him that I love him even more than I did last year.

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she-is-ovarit · 1 year ago

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This is for all the younger gen Z women, particularly those of you within the ages of 17 to roughly 23. This is written from an American perspective, things might be a little different depending on where you're from.

I graduated high school with the unconscious assumption that certain systems will take care of me. The medical system would educate me on proper nutrition and health issues was probably my largest underlying assumption, but really I just had trust in institutions generally.

This isn't true. You are responsible for learning. As an example, I have been vegetarian since age 14. Nobody talked to me about proper nutrition, they just told me I needed to eat more protein.

I lived a decade of my life having shortness of breath, sleeping issues, clumsiness, cold hands and feet, having brain fog, extreme fatigue, heightened anxiety, etc. My period was extremely light and brown, it'd last for about 2 or so days. I'd go and talk about these problems, and telling doctors that I was vegetarian was one of the first things that came out of my mouth just with any visit because I knew at least that piece was important to communicate.

There was really no action taken over the span of about 10 years. I was told the period thing was normal, that changes for women. A sleep specialist let me know that feeling exhausted was also normal. The brain fog was probably due to anxiety. Here, try allergy medication (tbh that did help for other reasons). Then one day I just asked them to check my vitamin and mineral levels. Prior to this I didn't think you can make requests to doctors, I thought you showed up and they performed tests on what they recommended. With some reluctance from my primary care physician and some compromise because she said my insurance wouldn't cover testing things like B12 levels (I later found out from a nurse that, they would, she would have just needed to fill out extra paperwork), she did some tests.

I found out both my iron and D3 levels were low. What else could be?

I later learned pretty much all the vitamins common to be low for vegetarians were low. D3, magnesium, vitamin Bs, iron, and healthy fats. Bought some liquid vitamins (because the body only absorbs 10% of the pill supplements), began eating an avocado a day, my period became normal for the first time in nine years, and I am able to function.

Another example of how human systems won't educate you: I don't have feeling in some of my toes due to wearing incorrect sized footwear for years resulting in permanent nerve damage. I'm size 11.5 in women's, and I was relying on someone to tell me how proper footwear worked, because surely the guy in the minimum wage position working the footwear section would know.

Don't trust human systems to guide you through how certain things work. Seek specific specialists and experts when you can, and inform yourself on your own. Don't blindly trust search engines like Google, it's not like how it used to be when I was growing up and many millennial adults will tell you to "just google things" because we're used to finding actual substantive answers when we do. However, now, usually whoever pays is who makes the first page or two of search engines, it has nothing to do with what information is "most correct". Don't be afraid to request certain tests be done by doctors or certain referrals made to different specialists.

Edit: And also, I've found general practitioners are terrible when you walk in and tell them about several different symptoms at one time. They're more used to treating one symptom at a time, and they treat the symptom not the root cause. If you go in with a runny nose, general practitioners are going to throw medications at you to try and treat the runny nose, not look deeper into what's causing the runny nose. It's equivalent to if you're in a boat and it's sinking, they're bailing out water without actually fixing the hole or trying to figure out where it is, with the exception of emergency situations and even then it depends.

#tangent #health #nutrition #gen z #medical system #healthcare #women's health

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lemon-world1 · 2 years ago

Text

You're everything I never knew I needed. │Frank Castle x Fem!Reader

I’m fully aware of the inconsistency in my writing/posting. I’m even more aware that there are many similar fics, but... It’s never enough. I just had to. I’m a sucker for our boy Frankie taking care of his girl. Hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood, period pain

summary: Your period came unexpectedly just as Frank comes to see you after being away from NYC. It's pure fluff.

Not everyone can say they're friends with the most badass vigilante in New York City. You and Frank have forged an unbreakable bond over countless nights spent stitching up his bullet-ridden body. He'd crawl to your balcony like a wounded animal seeking shelter, and you'd nurse him back to health.

Your friendship was simple, you took care of him, and he took care of you. He'd fix things around your apartment, like the water heater that blew up or carry your groceries to your apartment. But it wasn't just his actions that spoke volumes. You could see something in his eyes when he looked at you - a hidden feeling.

Sometimes, Frank's PTSD would get the best of him, and he'd lash out at you. But you knew it wasn't his fault. You stood by him, no matter what because you knew what he went through. You were always there for him, no matter the cost.

You never told Frank how you felt about him, but you didn't need to. He knew, just like he knew, how much you meant to him.

...

It's been a while since you last saw Frank. He had told you he would be out of town for a bit, which left you stuck in your apartment with nothing but your thoughts and the TV. You'd become accustomed to being on call in case he needed you, causing you to lose touch with most of your so-called "friends." But you never gave a damn about them. Frank was the only one who mattered in the big apple.

You had expected tonight to be just another dull evening spent munching on chips and binge-watching another crime docu-series on Netflix. You had passed out in bed, cuddled under the blanket you used to cover Frank with after a long stitching-up session.

But at two a.m., you jolted awake to a familiar pain stabbing your gut. You didn't bother tracking your period calendar because you hadn't been with anyone for so long that you stopped caring about when it would come.

Shit. You cursed as you realized your bed was stained with blood.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuck. This can't be happening. Today was the day you had to pitch your new designs to your most critical client, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with the aftermath of a messy period. You had no time to wash your sheets, deal with the cramps, or even shower at this godforsaken hour.

You needed relief fast, but when you reached for your painkillers, you remembered giving them all to Frank when you stitched him up a few weeks ago. You searched through your first aid kit for anything to alleviate the pain, but in haste, you knocked the whole thing over, spilling everything onto the tiles.

Arrghhh. You were furious at this point, knowing the nightmare was just about to begin. Over the years, you had become used to being dependent on painkillers; otherwise, your period would kill you. Your ob-gyn had tried everything to ease the agony, but nothing worked, and contraception was out of the question. You always kept your prescription pills close by for emergencies, but not this time.

Forty-three minutes had passed, and you were already showered and dressed in fresh pyjamas. The sheets were washing, and a hot cup of chamomile tea sat on your nightstand. But the pain was creeping in, gnawing at you with every passing moment. All you wanted to do was wrap yourself in a fluffy blanket and forget about the world. You tossed and turned on the bed, but the pain persisted. At the realization that you probably wouldn't be fit to get up at 5 and get to work at all, you started panicking. How were you going to cancel the pitch?

My boss is going to fucking kill me.

Well, she might if your period doesn't kill you first. After another 20 minutes, your silent sobs turned into horrific cries from pain. And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, the familiar knock came.

Knock. Knock. You looked up and saw a hulking figure peeking through the curtains on your balcony. It was him.

You got up slowly, your feet planted on the ground as you made your way to the balcony door.

Frank knew something was wrong the moment he saw you. He could see the pain etched all over your face. Your puffy red eyes, thick, comforting blanket hugging your shoulders, and forearm holding your belly as if it offered support told him everything.

"Hey, baby girl," he said, his voice breaking as he saw you in such agony. "Is everything alright?"

You said nothing, still gazing at him, unable to process that he was really standing in front of you. His hand reached out, gently wiping away a tear from your cheek.

"Hi Frankie, uh... is something wrong? Are you hurt?" He couldn't believe your words. You were in obvious pain and still asked if he was okay. Another piece of his shattered heart glued together at the thought of your kindness.

His hand still on your cheek, he spoke again. "Nah, I just got back to the city. I drove by your buildin' and saw you were up. I figured I'd check up on ya," he said, his voice full of concern.

You cracked a smile, knowing that Frank was always looking out for you. He was the one person you could count on, no matter what.

A visible frown formed between his brows as he realized you were barely standing on your feet. Without warning, you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head in his chest. You were so small compared to him. He gently stroked your hair and held you tightly, feeling the heat radiating from your body. He knew something was wrong because you were never hot. He had felt your icy cold skin whenever he touched you, even during the hottest summer days. Without question, he lifted you in his arms and carried you across the room to your bed.

"Frankie, I'm cold," you said, your voice trembling.

"Shit. You might have a fever," he said, his face creased with worry. "Why you ain't wearin' no socks, baby girl?"

Usually, you would melt under his sweet nicknames, but you couldn't even blush right now. He reached for your sock drawer, pulling out the thickest and fluffiest pair of socks he could find. He gently put them on your feet, making sure they were snug.

"You take any painkillers yet?" he asked, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of relief.

You shook your head; you could barely speak at this point. Your body felt like it was being ripped apart, but you refused to give in. "I ran out of meds. Nothing I have is strong enough," you managed to say, gritting your teeth.

A loud scream left your mouth, making Frank sit beside you on the bed and instantly wrap his arms around you. He hugged you from behind, letting you weigh into him. One of his palms rested on your forehead, wiping your cold sweat from the burning skin, and the other squeezed your hand placed on your belly.

Frank's eyes narrowed as he watched you writhe in agony. "I gotcha," he said, his voice low. "Just tell me what you need."

You shook your head again, unable to focus. "Just stay," you pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," he whispered in your ear. "I'll take care of you."

Another hour passed. You still lay there, your body racked with pain. Frank did what he could to ease your suffering, but he knew it wasn't enough. You started to fall asleep but remembered you couldn't be late for work.

"Frankie?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you please set my alarm for 5:30 am? I can't be late; I'm pitching a new proposal to a client."

"Is that the big one you was tellin' me about last time?"

"Yeah, it's important," you mumbled again.

"I will." No, he won't. There's no chance you're going to work in such a state. When you finally fell asleep, he knew he couldn't let you go to work in the morning. He took your phone and dialled your boss's number.

You had her saved as "Your Highness," which always made Frank chuckle when you called her that.

Your boss picked up on the first ring. "Hi, it's good you're callin', the-" She started, but Frank interrupted her immediately.

"Mornin', ma'am. It's, ugh, Pete, actually. Sorry to bother you so early, but my girl won't be in today. She's, uh... under the weather," Frank said in a gruff voice.

"Oh dear, I hope she feels better soon. I was about to text her and tell her the client postponed last minute. She can take two days off; she hasn't used any sick days yet. Please give her my regards," the boss replied with concern.

"I will. She needs some rest. She'll call ya back when she can."

"Of course. Thank you for letting me know, Pete. She mentioned you a bunch of times. It's good she has someone to take care of her."

"'Course, ma'am."

Frank made one more quick phone call before he heard you moving. He rushed to you only to find you frantically searching for work clothes.

"Easy there, darlin'. Your presentation got postponed. You got two days off now."

"What? How?"

"I called your boss. Told her you were sick."

"You did what?!" You were surprised and angry.

"Relax. She said you could take your sick days. You go back to bed and get some rest."

"Really?" A huge weight just dropped off your shoulders. "Thank you, Frankie." You were relieved and grateful.

Ding. Dong.

"Who the hell is that?" you wondered aloud.

"Lemme get that. You go back to bed," Frank said, already halfway to the front door.

You were feeling better, but still in pain, so you crawled back to bed and waited for Frank.

"Who was it?" you asked, curious.

"Just a friend of mine," Frank replied as he handed you a package of pain meds. "A combat medic. He knows his way around this stuff."

"I thought you took care of the drug dealers, not became friends with them," you quipped, the first hint of humour in your voice all day.

Frank chuckled. "Anythin' for you, sweetheart."

You smiled at Frank, feeling grateful for his presence in your life.

You looked at him, trying to read his expression. "Frank, what does that mean? Anything for me?"

He hesitated for a moment as if weighing his words carefully. "It means I'll always be there for you, no matter what. I'll protect you, take care of you, and never let anythin' happen to you. You're important to me, more than you know."

You felt a warm sensation spread through your chest, and you couldn't help but smile. "You mean a lot to me too."

Your heart swelled with emotion as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I'm not good with words, but I hope you understand," he whispered.

As Frank pulled away from the kiss, he looked at you with a tenderness that melted your heart. "You should rest," he said softly.

But you didn't want to be alone. "Will you stay with me?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course, darlin'," he replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You shifted over in bed, making room for Frank to join you. As he settled in next to you, you snuggled up against his chest, feeling safe and protected.

"You know," you said after a few moments of silence, "I never expected to find someone like you."

Frank tightened his arm around you. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone willing to go to such great lengths to take care of me and protect me. Someone so kind and gentle but also so strong and fierce. You're everything I never knew I needed."

Frank's lips curved into a soft smile. "I feel the same way, darlin'. You're the one thing that makes everything worth fighting for."

You sighed contentedly, feeling more at peace than you had in a long time. As you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in Frank's arms, you knew that no matter what the future held, you and Frank would face it together.

For years, Frank had been haunted by nightmares, unable to find solace in anything. But with you by his side, he felt a glimmer of hope that he hadn't felt in ages.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle fic #frank castle fluff #the punisher x you #the punisher #frank castle #frank castle imagine #jon bernthal #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x you #marvels punisher

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adore-laur · 1 year ago

Text

THIRD TIME’S THE CHARM

— flashback from the dadrry universe about how you & harry first met 🍸

——

Harvelle's was where Harry went to unwind. The dive bar in downtown Santa Monica was home to an intimate, narrow bar room that had once been a popular speakeasy nearly a century ago. Live jazz music, bewitching burlesque dancers, and eclectic alcohol choices attracted people from various backgrounds to visit and escape reality for a while.

Harry was there after a strenuous ten-hour shift, his back and feet aching to the highest degree. No amount of pain pills or sleep had fixed it, so he decided to come to a place where he could drink his sorrows away and focus his mind on anything other than his premature midlife crisis. The hangover he'd wake up with tomorrow would be dire, but thankfully, he'd have the weekend to recover.

As a generous patron of Harvelle's for over a year, his designated seat was the circular stool snug against the corner of the bar. Every Friday evening after work, he'd sit down, slap his credit card in the bartender's hand, and quietly sip cocktails while he observed everyone around him dive into drunken ecstasy.

This night was different, however, because someone at the opposite end of the room caught his attention.

In a trance, he watched you sway your head to the sultry music playing while holding a martini glass filled with pink liquid. Something strawberry-flavored, probably. He flicked his gaze to your lips, which puckered around the thin straw and took graceful sips occasionally. You were... gorgeous. Effortlessly so. You had the kind of face Harry would remember for a long time, even when he was slightly tipsy.

His lemon drop martini was half empty, and his eyes drooped from either exhaustion or the alcohol coursing through his blood. Tendrils of his hair fell over his forehead, which his sunglasses failed to hold back. His sheer, patterned shirt was sticking to his skin because of the room's humidity.

Or maybe it was because of you.

There had to be a way to garner your attention from where he sat. Your body was turned away from him, the shimmering lights from the rotating disco ball dancing across your back. Harry didn't want to be the type of guy in a bar who uncomfortably invaded a woman's space and sparked a lousy conversation until he could sense boredom practically exuding from them.

So, after the band finished playing a song, Harry put two fingers in his mouth and produced a loud whistle as everyone else clapped. It worked, much to his surprise. Your head shifted to glance back at him, and Harry felt instant regret. Too annoying? Had he turned you off?

"Sorry," he mouthed for some stupid reason.

You just smiled kindly and ran your eyes up and down his figure before casually jerking your head in invitation. Harry pointed at himself to ensure he was reading your gesture correctly, and you nodded in response while patting the empty stool beside you. The bar wasn't packed since it was nearing the early morning hours, so he grabbed his martini glass and stood up before approaching you. He awkwardly sat beside you and decided he should introduce himself.

"Hello, I'm Harry," he said, holding out his hand.

You placed your hand in his and gently shook it, telling him your name. "Nice to meet you, Harry."

"Where are you from?" It had been a brutal couple of months of having minimal luck in the dating realm, so he hoped he wasn't coming across as a total moron.

"Topanga," you answered, absentmindedly twirling the straw in your glass.

Harry had already fallen in love with your voice, if possible. "Wow. That's all the way in the mountains."

Shrugging, you sipped your drink, then said, "I don't like big cities. If I could, I would live closer to the coast, but properties are so expensive there."

Harry crossed one leg over the other, trying to appear nonchalant even though he was nervous as all get-out. "Like a beach house?"

"Yes, exactly!" you said, your eyes lighting up. "Maybe with my own private beach or something. That'd be amazing."

"Sounds like a dream," he replied, placing his chin in his palm.

"And what about you? Where does a guy like you live?"

"I live in Santa Monica in an apartment complex a few blocks away."

"That's nice. Do you come here often?"

Harry didn't want to give off lonely, miserable drunkard vibes, so he chose not to fib. "Um, sometimes," he admitted sheepishly, hoping his answer wasn't too vague.

"This is actually my first time here. It's quite intimate."

Harry licked his lips, desperately fighting the urge to longingly stare at yours whenever you spoke. "Yeah, it is. They have burlesque dancers on Saturday nights."

You whistled attractively. "I'm sure you enjoy that."

"Hey," he dragged out, smiling a bit. "I appreciate their flexibility." Too far, man. Dial it back a bit. "Just kidding," he quietly added.

You downed the last of your drink and then tapped your phone screen. "Yikes, it's getting late. I should probably head home."

A wave of disappointment and insecurity washed over him. He was just getting to know you. Had he said something wrong? Was he boring you? He could be quite the awkward, clingy idiot when he was drunk, so he genuinely felt worried as to why you had to leave so suddenly.

His brain was hazy, and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Can I have your number before you go?"

You collected your purse, shooting him an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but not tonight. Ask me again when you're sober."

Harry went utterly speechless. You hadn't said it dismissively or rudely, but it caught him by surprise nonetheless. In response, he just lamely lifted his drink in a cheers gesture as you left him alone, mysteriously disappearing through the exit and never glancing back.

——

You were running considerably late to work. A mandatory meeting was supposed to begin in less than twenty minutes, and you'd only just pulled into the parking lot of some random restaurant to pick up a cake for a coworker's birthday today. You followed the directions your boss gave you, which led to a burgundy building on the outskirts of Santa Monica. Luckily, the bakery section of the restaurant was right next to the lobby doors, so you parked your car and rushed inside.

When you pushed the glass doors open, a bell chimed, and you immediately heard something clatter to the ground, along with a hushed swear. The place was empty of people; chairs were still stacked upside down on the tables. Its modern interior design with neutral shades provided a subtle background for the colorful pastries crowding every corner. There was also a grand window display of desserts, all aesthetically and meticulously organized.

A man suddenly came shuffling out of the swinging kitchen door, his hands full of supplies teetering on each other.

Oh, it was the hot guy from the bar you went to about a month ago. What was his name again? Harvelle? No, that was the bar's name. Maybe it was Henry? Hector? Hubert? You didn't exactly remember, but you were positive it was something close.

Anyway, he seemed flustered in his oversized knit sweater and green trousers. A Styrofoam coffee cup was balanced in the crook of his elbow, and honestly, it looked like he just woke up. Yet somehow, he appeared even more beautiful than he did in the moody lighting of Harvelle's. His features were now accentuated by the pure daylight pouring through the windows.

You cleared your throat and waited by the front counter, observing him clumsily set things down before flipping through a notepad and blindly reaching for a pen off to the side. He had yet to notice you, too caught up in whatever task he was trying to complete.

After a few silent seconds, he ripped out a piece of lined yellow paper scribbled with scrawly handwriting and skimmed over it while walking forward to greet you. When he glanced up, he froze in place. His green eyes took in what seemed like every inch of your being. His fingers twirled the ballpoint pen he was holding.

"Hi," you said quietly, adjusting your purse strap.

"Hey," he replied, scratching under his eyebrow with his knuckle. "Uh, hey. Hi. What— why are you here? Sorry, that sounds rude." He took a deep breath before continuing, "I meant, how can I help you?"

You bit back a smile and took out your wallet. "I'm here to pick up a cake for my work. We're having a birthday party for someone, and this is where I was told to get it from."

"Ah, okay. Can I have the name associated with the order?"

"It's under mine, but I—"

He politely interrupted with your name unfurling from his mouth as a question. "We talked at Harvelle's not that long ago, right?"

He remembered, and you thanked the heavens that you quickly noticed his name tag because otherwise, you would have been guessing every name in the book.

"Yeah," you confirmed with a nod. "And you're Harry. You asked for my number."

His cheeks flushed pink as he rubbed his forehead with an embarrassed scrunch of his nose. "I'm so sorry about that. It wasn't the greatest first impression, was it?"

"I've had people try worse lines on me," you assured him with a laugh. "So, how much is the cake? I only have cash on me."

Harry checked his notepad. "Twenty-four dollars and sixteen cents."

You fished out a crisp twenty- and five-dollar bill, then handed them to him. He took them, his hand brushing against yours as he opened the cash register.

"Did you know there's a Carlo's Bake Shop in Santa Monica?" you asked.

"Mm-hmm. It's just around the block, actually."

"That's wild. I almost screamed when I found out."

Harry slowly smirked and closed the register with his hip, silently counting your change in his palm. "Why? It's just any old cake shop."

You gasped with wide eyes. "Excuse me? Any old cake shop? It's from Cake Boss!"

"Cake what?"

"The show that was on TLC with Buddy Valastro. Hello? Do you live under a rock?"

He tilted his head and tucked a pen behind his ear. "You're speaking Greek to me. I've no idea what you're on about."

"Never mind." You rolled your eyes playfully and began gazing at the displayed pastries. "Do you make everything here?"

"If I'm not scheduled elsewhere, then yes," he answered. "I'm usually here for the morning part of my shift."

"What else do you do?"

"I'm mostly an assistant chef in the restaurant kitchen, but sometimes I bartend or run the bakery."

"Well, everything looks delectable." You checked your watch and huffed when you saw the time. "I need to get going."

Harry snapped his fingers twice. "Shit. I almost forgot to give you your cake." He turned around and opened the see-through fridge, searching for the correct box. He eventually took a baby blue one out from the bottom shelf before setting it on the counter and taping the receipt he printed out onto the top.

"Here you are," he said, sliding it toward you before taking a sip of coffee.

You found yourself liking the way his voice sounded when no one else was around. "Thank you. Um, you forgot to give me my change."

Harry cupped both of his cheeks and slowly shook his head. "I am so sorry. It's early, and I didn't sleep much last night."

Waving him off, you said, "It's okay. Mondays, am I right?" You mentally facepalmed yourself for sounding like a loser.

"Right. You get it." He breathily laughed and handed you your change.

You put your wallet away and then picked up the cake box. "Thank you again."

"Of course," he replied with a handsome smile. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."

"Same here." You checked your watch for the second time. "I really need to go, but I'm sure I'll come visit another time to buy something for myself."

Harry gestured a thumbs up. It made your heart skip a beat for some reason. "Please do," he said. "Have a good day, yeah?"

"You as well."

You headed toward the door, and just as you were about to pull it open to leave, Harry called out, "Hey, wait!"

You abruptly stopped and turned around. "Did I forget something?"

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat. "No, but you told me to ask you sober, so can I— sorry, may I have your number? Please? Or we could go out somewhere?"

Your spirit sank. "I'm actually running super late right now. I'll try to come back soon, though. Promise."

Harry nodded, his head dipping low. "I understand. I'll catch you later."

"Bye," you whispered hastily before stepping outside.

When you finally got to work and sat down for your meeting, you thought about Harry the entire time.

——

Harry was bartending when he saw you again. He was topping a white Russian with cream, almost overflowing the glass, when he did a double take at your figure walking toward the counter. He wasn't expecting you at all, entirely confident that he'd never cross paths with you again after his failed attempt at asking you out a few days ago.

You were dressed in a black suit with matching heels. Your hair looked frazzled, but it was ridiculously attractive. He had to check that he didn't make the customer's drink wrong because of how many times he had glanced at you.

"Hey," you said breathlessly, sitting on an open stool in front of him. "I had a feeling you'd be working here tonight. Are you busy right now?"

Harry nervously swallowed and slid the drink down to the customer. "Hey. N-not really, why?"

You bit your lip, your teeth puncturing the soft flesh. "I just wanted to say thank you for the delicious cake. My coworkers loved it."

"Oh, thank you," he said, casually placing his arms behind his back. "I'm happy to hear that."

"I also came here to tip you." Harry followed your movements with his eyes as you took a ten-dollar bill out of your pocket, smoothing the creases against the edge of the counter before holding it out. "This is for you. You're very talented."

He accepted the money because, in all honesty, he really needed it. "That's kind of you. I appreciate it."

Harry couldn't believe he had the woman he couldn't stop daydreaming about right in front of him. His mind scrambled for a flirty gesture or pick-up line to impress you, and he ended up going for what he was best at. Jerking his chin up, he smoothly asked, "Can I make you a drink?"

You set your elbows on the counter. "What do you suggest?"

"A strawberry margarita. Isn't that what you ordered at Harvelle's?"

"It was! I'm surprised you remember."

He wanted to say it was impossible not to since he had been besotted with the way you puckered your lips around the straw, but he refrained for the sake of his dignity. "I'll make it for you right now," he said. There are also appetizers in the back if you'd like some. Jalapeño poppers are the special tonight."

You nodded eagerly. "I'd love some."

Harry walked toward the kitchen, smiling as he grabbed a steaming basket. He thought it was going well so far, and it was wild that you had visited to simply tip him.

When he came back, he set the food and a couple of napkins in front of you. You immediately took a bite as Harry started making your drink.

"I'll go out with you, by the way."

If he hadn't been working, Harry was sure he would have acted like a lovesick girl at a sleepover who was spilling juicy details about their crush while giddily kicking their legs in the air. Him? You wanted to go out with him, of all people? The burnt-out food service worker who drove a shitty Subaru and was living paycheck to paycheck?

Maybe the third time's the charm.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he stuck a sliced lemon on the rim of your glass.

Before you could reply, a customer pulled him away, waving him down. He apologetically smiled before rushing over and helping them as fast as possible. Once done, he spread his hands on the counter and tapped his fingers. "You're serious?"

You leaned forward and stared at him with a glint in your eyes. "Dead serious."

Harry blew out a sharp breath and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Would it be lame if we got dinner here since I work literally every day this week?"

"I don't mind at all," you replied without missing a beat. "Whatever works for you."

"Cool." He straightened his posture and flung a dishrag over his shoulder. "How about this weekend?"

You hummed, quirking your lips to the side. "How about tonight?"

Harry's eyes went wide, clamminess instantly infiltrating his palms. Tonight? As in, there wasn't enough time to mentally prepare himself for a date tonight. Is it even considered a date? He was freaking out.

"Unless you're not in the mood," you added quickly. "I understand if you just want to go home after work."

He briskly shook his head. "No, no, I'm in the mood. Totally in the mood. I get off in about an hour, if that's not too long of a wait for you."

You lightly knocked on the counter three times. "Perfect. I'll sit here and watch you make drinks until then."

He just grinned and handed you your margarita. "Wave me down if you need anything."

Throughout the last hour of his shift, Harry tended to everyone in the bar while checking in on you every so often. Making sure no one tried to hit on you, for the most part. After his coworker finally arrived to replace him, he washed his hands and rounded the counter to stand next to you.

"Let's head outside where it's quieter."

You nodded and grabbed your drink as he led you away from the crowd, his hand hovering over your back. He didn't want to overstep unknown boundaries too soon.

"Where do you think strawberry margaritas are better? Here or at Harvelle's?" you inquired as you both walked to the outdoor seating area right by the beach.

"Here, obviously," Harry said with a smirk. "Why, does mine taste bad?"

You both sat down opposite each other at a circular table. "No. I'm just wondering since you're the expert."

Harry bashfully smiled, then became a little more serious. "Listen," he started, "I'm sorry again about asking for your number while tipsy. That wasn't very gentlemanly of me."

You laughed and said, "Don't worry about it."

"All right. Good."

After you ordered food and more drinks—Harry insisting that he could get everything for free since he was a loyal employee—the two of you began getting to know each other more, taking turns asking questions and falling into an easy flow of conversation.

"Do you want kids?" Harry asked on his tenth or eleventh turn, his rings clinking against his glass as he tapped it.

He watched you ponder the simple yet complicated question, wondering if asking such an invasive thing was a stupid mistake. "I'm not sure," you replied eventually. He let out the breath he'd been holding. "I'm still young, and I don't think it's a decision I can confidently answer right now. What about you?"

Harry cradled his cheek in his palm. "I definitely want babies in the future—with the right person, of course, so I guess I have to wait for that first."

Your eyes softened as you took a sip of your drink. "How many babies?"

"Hmm, maybe two. Three, if my partner doesn't hate me by then."

"Boys or girls? Or both?"

"Honestly?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. You nodded as he rested his foot on the bottom of your chair. "All girls would be ideal. I don't know why; it's just what I see for myself."

"I get that," you said, nudging your foot against his. "Daughters would be really special to raise. They make the world go round."

He hummed in agreement, subtly brushing his kneecap against yours. "I also think I could learn so much from them, you know?"

"Who, your hypothetical children?" you teased.

He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I guess. We're speaking hypothetically, right?"

"Sure. Unless you're speaking it into existence."

"With how my love life is going, it doesn't seem likely."

You made a noise of protest. "Don't say that! You're a handsome guy."

"Well, my looks only get me so far."

"You're also sweet and charming." You took a small bite of food and maintained eye contact with him. "I'm shocked you're not taken already."

"I swear it's because of my job," he muttered. "Whenever I tell someone I work in a restaurant, they look at me like I'm a disappointment."

You retracted your head. "What's wrong with working in a restaurant?"

"You tell me," he murmured around the rim of his glass.

"I think it's hot."

Harry nearly choked on his drink, raising a fist to his mouth as he coughed in shock. "Come again?"

"You're a chef."

"Assistant chef," he corrected.

"Same difference," you continued confidently. "You can cook food, you can bartend, and you know how to woo a woman. That's hot."

"Are you sure you're not just quoting Paris Hilton?"

You rolled your eyes with a knowing smile. "Maybe, maybe not. Please tell me you've watched The Simple Life."

Harry stared at you, waiting for the punchline, but you looked completely serious. "No," he deadpanned. "Absolutely not. I will never watch trashy reality shows."

"Not even The Bachelor?" you asked, leaning closer with interest. "That's my favorite franchise to watch."

"You're insane if you enjoy that," he replied, wiping a napkin around his lips. "Anyway, back to you calling my job hot. Elaborate, please."

You gawked at him. "Has no one ever told you that before?"

He blinked slowly with a straight face. "It's not like I have the sex appeal of Bobby Flay, love."

Your eyes scanned him up and down. "I'm sure it's hidden somewhere deep inside you. Do you wear a chef jacket?"

"Yeah."

"See? That's hot."

He barked out a laugh. "You're lying to me."

You mimicked his surprised expression. "I am not!"

Slightly leaning over the table, he looked at you with unwavering eye contact. "Liar."

"You don't know me."

He said in a low, self-assured voice, "I'd like to."

A heartfelt exhale escaped your beautiful lips. "Then stop assuming I'm a liar when I compliment you."

Harry breathed in deeply and glanced at your lips. One brief look at them rendered him weak, their shape curving into a smile, stained pink due to your margarita. He wanted to kiss you, but it wouldn't be very romantic to do so in public. He could kiss your cheek instead, but he already imagined how awkward he'd make it. He could hold your hand—a more subtle gesture that wasn't too bold. That sounded manageable.

So, with a single swig of his liquid courage, he went for it. His hand slowly scooted to your thigh under the table, delicately grabbing your fingertips with his own. He rubbed his thumb along your knuckles and set his fingers underneath your palm so you were holding hands, fingers not interwoven but holding nonetheless. You'd gone quiet; whatever you were about to say was lost in the intimacy swirling in the air.

Harry squeezed your hand and said, "Let's walk down to the beach."

"Okay."

Harry let go and stood from his seat, then pulled you up with him before leading you to the sand. The sun had fully set, yet several campfires and tiki torches lit the way to the shore. There was barely anyone out, which was perfect for Harry since he planned to kiss you senselessly. At least, he hoped so. He might chicken out, which was highly likely considering his heart nearly gave out whenever you looked at him.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Pardon?" Harry's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Damnit, you beat him to it.

You took off your heels and started walking toward the water. "You heard me."

"Yeah, I-I did," he stammered, sliding his shoes and socks off as he strode up to you.

His black work shirt almost caught fire from the tiki torch with how fast he walked toward you. The waves calmly met the shore, and he admired you step into the shallow water, the Ferris wheel and pier merely twinkling lights in the background. The nearby flames danced off the reflection of the ocean as well as your skin, and he swore he'd never experienced such a magnetic pull toward someone before. He followed you like a puppy on a leash, digging into his pocket for a mint he secretly grabbed. He popped it into his mouth.

Eventually, he faced you with the water rising just below his knees. You were staring at him with a particular look, and he took it as his cue to initiate the first move. "Do you want to kiss me, or should I kiss you?" Harry asked nervously.

You placed your hands on his hips and said, "Just kiss me, please."

So he did. He ducked his head down to mold his lips onto yours, feeling them immediately find the shape of his and move beautifully against his bottom lip. He tasted strawberry residue, weakening his knees with each soft pull. His hands gently held the sides of your neck, and he used his thumbs to tilt your jaw. He wanted to open his eyes and savor how you looked, but he was so caught up with how fast his heart beat and how euphoric he felt touching the woman of his dreams.

When you finally ran out of breath and pulled away, Harry rested his forehead against yours and made a noise somewhere between a whimper and a groan.

"Was that okay?"

He shook his head in disbelief but quickly turned it into a nod so that you didn't think he was saying no. "Yes. That was the best thing to ever happen to me."

You laughed and kissed the corner of his gobsmacked mouth. "I'm honored."

Harry stared at you, mesmerized by every square inch of your face. "I feel like we were always supposed to meet," he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

"Me too," you said sincerely.

He really hoped he didn't mess things up.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #third time’s the charm

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mariamariquinha · 5 months ago

Text

Bossa Nova (Benny 'Borracho' Magalon x f!reader) - Ten

Nine | Eleven

Summary: Benny's pov (my boy is so stressed).

Word count: 7.482.

Warnings: Bad words, slightly talks about cop corruption, violence, crime, talks about mental/physical health, mention of use of pills, hospital environment and police work.

Author’s Note: I like my men like how I visualize myself: stressed and in need of a fucking break.

I'm also on AO3 now!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

****

If someone asked any woman who was involved with Benny at some point in their life about him, there would always be a universal phrase: he's complicated. Not 'complicated' in a 'he has a difficult and unstable life' way, because he did, but in a 'he hasn't known how to be a nice guy for a long time' way.

Daddy issues. Classic.

He was committed to the Major Crimes guys, especially Nick, because there was a part of him that hated to disappoint. Aside from ego or personal compensation, Benny saw a lot of his own father in Big Nick, so despite the two being almost the same age, the position of power gave O'Brien a very complex image of a patriarch – flaws and all. When Debbie left, it was clear that Nick would follow the same path as that father, with the difference that he would at least try to spend weekends with the children; Benny wouldn't be able to recognize what the 'head of his family' should be if he had to.

It had been years since he was just Benicio Ramirez Magalon and not Benicio Ramirez Garcia Magalon, as if he erased every particle of his father from his own history in an arbitrary way, but still having that ghost on his shoulders with O’Brien.

He didn't think much that night, but he knew it would be natural for him to walk away. It must have been the most genuinely decent thing Benny did for any woman under those circumstances. Maybe it was the fact that you knew how to set limits, that you recognized your weaknesses with an ease that Benny couldn't.

In conclusion, he was disappointed to not find you more resilient than finding out Nick slept with informants, which soon enough he caught himself being a fucking asshole. Maybe that's why, because of this lack of cynicism on your part and the excess of the same feeling on his part, Benny concluded that you were destined for good guys. Some who, at least, didn't make the decisions he made.

****

“And we have a fireplace.”

Yeah, indeed, they had a fireplace – one that was basically turning into dust. You stood there with your arms crossed, letting your mother inspect the apartment and make comments about it. While she and the realtor (a small woman named Eidra) went back to one of the bedrooms, you sat on the small bench left behind on the miniscule living room by the last residents, watching your father look through the window.

When you two shared a glance, the answer was all over the place: a huge and big and extreme and frustrated and disappointed no.

****

Listen, it could always get worse. That was life, you know? And you should know better than to expect that the divorce and the whole Isla stuff would pass by you. Well, it passed through you. With a delay, but still.

Some of this was your fault, you could admit. Your brother had already advised you to negotiate the sale of the house as soon as the divorce procedures were in progress and you were so catatonic, in a way, that you didn't want to add more to what already seemed too complicated. After months, you found the buyers – good price, you made a profit.

During Christmas, you ended up tripping over the closed moving boxes and spraining your foot, so on New Year's Eve you didn’t enjoy the trip as much as you could. A bad start to the year, but not the worst thing that happened to you in a long time.

They were organizing a farewell party for Emma; by March, she would be at DEA headquarters leading their forensic team. You had to act surprised, and politely refused to help with the details ('I'm busy with this moving thing'), which she probably took as a bitter departure. Well, it was what it seemed to be. You didn’t call her off with that, but some part of you was feeling that pit of disgust. There was a murmur about whether or not to invite Major Crimes (even though they never attended that kind of thing), which everyone ended up looking at you for clarification. You didn't know, and that's what you said, accompanied by a modest shrug of the shoulders.

“Send an invitation by email, it's less work if they say no.”

Even because you had time to rethink the unfortunate occasions with O'Brien. You felt offended but you also felt guilty, which was a rather cruel conclusion that Nick was indirectly manipulating you. When you told Gina this, she just gave a genuine shrug and sighed.

“It isn’t like he wasn’t that kind of person before, you know.”

You felt bad – you felt used again. Doubted, discredited. And the fact that you thought you wouldn't care if it happened, that you would be as strong as you had been through the divorce, just showed that you had an ability to lie to yourself. Benny left that night and you knew he had the same realization too; you found yourself believing that the opinion of someone who still followed such strict orders from someone like Nick had no opinion value in your life.

You no longer fit into LASD.

****

“You have insomnia and lack of nutrients. I'll prescribe you some pills and vitamins for both, but I need you to pump the brakes. Burnout has been killing people lately.”

Perhaps, deep down, you knew that this distancing also came with your need to hide that your physical health had worsened. It wasn't that bad, but you had barely been eating and… yeah, you really didn't need another surprise with so much going on.

The doctor pondered something, eyeing the papers and you with a serenity that was closer to reticence. You waited, shoulders slumped and eyes heavy, lacking energy to ask anything else.

“... This seems like a pattern. The lack of sleep, your headaches… Have you considered another type of approach?”

Long short story, no. And he probably knew that too, since you were there and not in a therapist's office, so you saw him lean over the desk and give you one of those scolding looks.

“It’s very normal for people in your profession to have this type of behavior. Considering what has happened in your personal life, I would advise a psychological reevaluation.”

“I’m not depressed.”

But he hadn't hinted at it, or said anything like that out loud, which only made it all make more sense. He sighed in defeat, then signed the recipe and, alongside with it, put a flier about mental health just in case.

The medicines would be an unforeseen additional expense, but it should give you some peace of mind. At least you hoped so.

****

“Yes.”

“Bad time?” Gina sounded quite confused on the other end of the line, so you frowned at her tone and stuffed the pills into your bag irritably, the breeze not doing much to cheer up your mood. It wasn't even summer anymore, but the day still felt unbearably hot.

“I’m not on my peak, no.”

Gina went quiet for a bit. In the background, you could hear the noise of people coming and going, as if she were in a crowded place. Calmly, you backed up the sidewalk until you were under the awning of the pharmacy you had just left, switching your phone from ear to ear to hear her better.

“... What was it? Did someone die?”

“Where are you right now?”

“I am…” You looked over your shoulder, then at the sign of the pharmacy printed right above your head. “Had to run some errands.”

“How far are you from the Good Samaritan?”

“Good Samar-Gina, I was joking about-”

“You won't believe who's here.”

****

He had been quiet since he arrived and it was understandable. Apart from the answers he gave to the police, there was not much interest in having any type of social interaction, which was respected: it was not as if he was or should have been accustomed to the context in which he was placed.

It was different from the other cases they had been following, Z mentioned. Maybe a slip, but no one could be sure because they weren't experts in psychological profiles and the idea of involving the feds was out of the question. For a lot, there was intuition, experiences on the streets, informants… Murph had already checked, there was a strong lead and they were almost there.

No one wanted to mention the damn coincidences that led them to that hospital and, more precisely, the crime scene. Gina, perhaps, had reacted in some way that revealed a truth that no one wanted to verbalize, and Nick asked them to keep an eye on her – Emma’s leaving, until further notice these people would be a bit of a smartass.

But what would Gina do, anyway? If she could? Would she call you of all people and ask you to pray for your ex's life?

Still, Benny stood guard at the hospital until Gina finished work and kept an eye on the news, or at least Twitter. If you had known about it, there would already have been news on the internet and, if you had appeared, taken by an immaculate concern towards the tragedy, you would’ve already done so. All in all, the reason why everyone was on their last strings was how you going there could be harmful to the case.

Maybe that was the problem, after all: he didn't know that side of you. What kind of wife you were, what kind of friend you could be. Everything was too casual, limited to observations he made and the things he remembered when you talked. There was no more karaoke, nor costume parties or Cosmopolitans in your cards or a brother to rely on; he knew these things, but none of them were valid at that moment.

So when he saw you peeking down the hall right after Gina had left (when he himself was already determined to get out of there), Benny didn't feel so surprised because he had tested the odds. Cautiously, he stood nearby, watching your diminished, secretive posture pass by the nurses' table and take slow steps to where Theodore was at. He was frustrated, in fact, and maybe a little stressed by everything, because he certainly didn't expect you to make the dumbest decision possible.

You stopped at a safe distance from the room and didn't come any closer. With a bag slung over your shoulder, you gripped the strap tightly, standing still there as you saw what was left of a guy after getting his ass beaten up, perhaps processing things that Benny would never know about.

The girlfriend appeared: Aileen. She also hesitated when she noticed you, holding a cup of coffee in her hand as she came up from behind. At this point, Benny became more alert, ready to intervene. Interestingly, Henderson was also returning from somewhere, certainly to pick him up, and his louder voice calling your attention caused a beautiful disaster, like an announced tragedy.

You turned around too quickly, right when she was already on your trail, and hit your arm on the coffee cup that seemed hotter than expected. It hurt, of course. You screamed as the liquid burned the skin of your hand, leaning down just in time for one of the nurses to come to your aid. Aileen stood there in confusion as the liquid hit her clothes, and before Benny could take any further steps to take action, the reality that everyone was in a hospital dawned on him and he stopped.

He exchanged a glance with you as one of the nurses took you to the emergency room.

“What the fuck, is she out of her fucking mind?” Henderson asked eventually, even if they both knew he would apologize later.

Benny didn't answer him, however; he doubted the answer even though he thought he was aware enough of your behavior. He just watched you go in silence, both fists clenched in anger.

****

You had your head down, your eyes still wet from the tears from the pain you had felt. The nurse had been delicate and, considering it was relatively calm, was going through the entire process in a well-rehearsed way. The emergency room was still lively, with people going from one side to the other. When you weren't watching her clean the burn, you looked up at the other patients waiting: broken arms, bloody noses.

Last time, you saw Benny with his arms crossed near the curtain that separated your space, even though it was the only one far from the others.

You knew at that moment that you were fucked.

“Boyfriend?” The nurse asked, making you eye her then him rapidly.

“No,” You two answered in unison, to which you ended up averting your gaze in embarrassment.

“I'd like to talk to her privately, anyway. If you don't mind,” He pressed a little, not minding the rude tone he was using.

She eyed him, then you. With a small nod of yours, she sighed in tiredness and rolled her eyes, tidying up the bandage before leaving.

A silence hung in the air, tense and with a hint of the impatience he was clearly feeling. You ignored this, however, glancing at your injured hand here and there before adjusting yourself better on the stretcher.

“You know, when I was a rookie I used to get quite excited with the prospect of being heard just showing my badge,” He commented, so you couldn’t help but scoff.

“Yeah, yeah, perhaps the biggest problem in America is men with damaged egos because no one cares about the size of their dicks anymore.”

“You always seem to have a metaphor for dicks.”

“It’s a talent.”

“As is your ability to put yourself in shitty situations.”

You looked into his face for a few seconds and found an anger that, in general, seemed to be the only thing available to you from him. No more smiles or sympathy: Benny had chosen his side of the story and, really, that was fine. Still, you couldn't help but miss the other version of him as much as you did at that moment.

“I'm not going to ask who told you because that would be a really stupid question,” He took one, two steps closer to the curtain, slightly pushing it to cover the both of you. “Let's be adults and then you tell me why you came.”

Good question. Great question, actually. Why were you there? Why did you make the fucking dumb decision to be the bigger person and show up? And, by all intends, to end up with a coffee burn from…

Yeah, it wasn’t your prime, you could give him that.

“He wasn't just my ex husband. And I didn't want to come, but I thought I would be an asshole if I didn’t do anything.”

Benny stared at you for a long moment then; he stood there, still, eyeing you as if he was looking for something – to the point of discomfort. You averted your gaze to the floor.

“I've read your file, did you know that? As soon as you came in and became the talk of the team, I went to find out who you were,” It made you raise your head to him, taken aback by his sudden change of subject. “First in your class, completed a specialization while still graduating. You're kind of a genius, and honestly, you had every right to be a bit of an asshole to people.”

“... You don’t need to say this,” You said.

“What should I say then?”

“I can work with nothing,” And then you snapped at him, seeing his expression shift from serenity to full annoyance. “We’ve been doing this dance very well over the last few months.”

When he didn't offer any further comment, sighing in impatience from your stubbornness.

“What I mean is, you're a fucking smart scientist and everything, but you still insist on being naive like that.”

“I know,” You mumbled in defeat.

“Do you now?”

In other times, there would be a cunning answer on the tip of your tongue; hell, in other times, you wouldn't even let him or anyone talk to you like that. The point was that you were so tired of putting yourself in this position, of facing things that weren't even your business because you had been in that defensive and combative mode since things started to get out of control.

You sighed and ran your good hand over your face, rubbing away the melancholy expression.

“Do you still like him?” You couldn’t help but raise your eyebrows in surprise at his question, watching the way he was so serious about it.

“What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

He shrugged.

“Means whatever.”

“I don’t like him.”

“It wasn't what it seemed.”

“Are you serious?” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. “You don't know anything about my life to insinuate that kind of thing about me.”

“So answer me without sounding like I'm accusing you of something.”

“Well, then ask questions that don't sound like you're accusing me of something.”

And that seemed to have ended the argument (not the conversation), but Benny didn't move or seem willing to do anything to end the topic.

“... What?” You asked with impatience.

“The girl who spill the coffee on you, she-”

“Aileen,” Your interruption came with a huff, while wiggling the fingers of your bad hand. “Yes, she’s a stunning woman my ex cheated me with, if that’s what you’re trying to ask.”

“I’m not trying to ask anything,” Benny frowned. “You're the one on the defensive. I don't want to know the details, I just need to make sure you don't put yourself in the front line of something that’s none of your business.”

“He’s someone I know!”

“Are you serious right now?”

“No,” You used a firm tone, watching him go from stern to doubtful in a beat. “I’m a human being and unfortunately I’m sensitive enough to visit my ex who was beaten by a gang of robbers. Do I wish I had done something to her for what happened? Of course, but unfortunately I also like my job. And my ethics, if that matters.”

“I just don't want to have to clean up any messes again.”

Deep down, if you really cared, you would’ve been more outraged by what he had said to you. In the end, you just became even more pissed off, so it probably meant that you were mad. The audacity, the… That seemed like the kind of thing that put him closer to what Major Crimes really was.

“... You're quite an asshole, you know that?”

He sighed, looking away and probably reevaluating a route.

“I didn't mean it that way.”

“Sure. How lucky would I be to endure two public humiliations without having provoked them? I really must be a saint.”

“Then I’ll be the bitch. I meant exactly what I meant,” You both shared a stare.

In fact, he was right: you were complicating everything. If you had just done what you meant to do, maybe you wouldn't have acted so immature, but there you were, holding your ground because you were an idiot. This was so frustrating, so stupid. You didn't need to do that, you didn't need to try to be something you weren't. No one ever imposed this type of behavior on you, there was no gun in your head telling you that things should be that way.

You felt defeated. Your physicality, your face, everything exuded the reflections of a woman well out of orbit.

“I'm going to tell you something very honest,” He took a few steps closer, searching the eyes you’d been avoiding until you could be looking at each other again. “I want you away from this case. Not because I think you're gonna mess something up, but at this point it's clear that your judgment can prevail over the evidence.”

It wasn't like he was wrong, so you stayed quiet.

“Nick is going to end up being pretty scathing about what happened here today, so believe me when I say that this time I'm really going to let you off the hook. You'll owe me one.”

Again, you remained silent, which was a bit surprising since you almost always had something to say. He was there, stern, giving you a well-deserved scolding, pointing a finger in your face, and it was as embarrassing as it was incredibly satisfying. It wasn't like what happened in your kitchen or anything like that, because he was truly mad at you, not the circumstances. Without Nick, Isla, Emma; it was you and him. You were the target.

His eyes were focused on yours, because he wanted to say it in all words. They seemed even darker, more powerful compared to yours, and that made you move in shyness. It was a side of Benny you didn't know yet.

“And please wake up. That girl isn’t half the woman you are,” This shocked you even more, since he hadn't stopped looking visibly irritated while passing his eyes over your body. “Nor half-experienced.”

Okay, well, that was… Well…

He shouldn’t have that right, did he? Why were you blinking several times and not saying anything then?

You stayed quiet – you didn’t want to embarrass yourself somehow. And with your silence, Benny just nodded while averting his gaze for a beat too long, passing a palm over his mouth with a tense sigh.

“She's going to discharge you and I want you away from here, understand?” He murmured, both hands placed on the mattress to cage you.

If he asked (which he clearly wouldn't), you would explain the details of your drunken confession from that first date. Benny was very intense, definitive; that was his version a little beyond what happened in your kitchen, and if you pushed a little harder, you'd notice that his eyes were darker than normal, putting you in an instant trance, whether out of fear, regret or… something else.

His eyes, at that moment when you just didn't say anything, went from your eyes to your eyebrows and then to your nose and mouth, agitated about how to actually look at you.

“Am I understood?” Benny pressed with a growl.

You nodded.

“Yes or no?”

“Yes.”

“Great.”

He walked away with some hesitation, but opened the curtain to leave with a brutality that made you jump instantly. You let out a heavy breath, bringing your injured and closed hand to your chest in a somewhat unconscious act of protection, but not necessarily because of him. Benny was right; reactive, but right.

What the fuck were you doing in that place?

****

“Why did you do that?”

Henderson was driving back to the station when he asked. The car remained silent, with no answer for a long time, and Benny continued to stare at what he had written down of what Theodore said.

“She’s a partner. Big Nick would do the same.”

“I don't think so,” Henderson snorted. “You like her.”

Benny didn't comment on that either, because there wasn’t anything to add. In any case, the lack of a reply said everything his friend needed to know.

****

Okay, Benny did like you a little. Amicably. At first it was purely sexual, and he even thought about bragging to Connors that he had managed to fuck you first, because he was sure he wasn't going to make it past the first date. But even with all the other interesting women he did the same thing with, the indifference you had made it for him. If it was just that, if you had drunk a little less and gone to bed with him that night, that would be fine to you; maybe you even expected the other guys would know about it.

Then you two kissed and he didn’t mention anything to anyone. You became funnier and prettier and he noticed the things about you. Benny found out he liked the idea of it being a secretive thing, to remember how you sounded, the texture of your skin and the smell of your hair and keep it to himself. You were an irredeemable nerd, but you were rebellious: you clashed with Big Nick, you had a beautiful, huge tattoo on your leg, you smoked marijuana, you messed with other girls.

He enjoyed your closeness, whether as a friend or as a lover. It was advantageous to have you around.

Since what happened at the hospital, Benny thought about apologizing and saying that he was just upset. They were really close to get that guys, there was a lot of pressure from above after the debacle with the DEA, no one was in the thick of the fucking around. He didn't apologize despite wanting to, though, because he knew things didn't feel easy for you either.

Well, he couldn’t be sure of it, if he liked you as if in a crush or just as a person who he got along with. You made him hesitate to make some kind of mistake towards you, so what Benny could say for certain was that he liked you. Just a little.

****

“Do you know anything about this?”

You and your dad were in the kitchen washing the dishes when he asked. His tone was low, almost discreet to be heard only by you and, hopefully, distant enough for your mother to take note of the question. The room was small, very different from your old house, and the walls provided good coverage so that she, who was on the emergency stairs smoking a cigarette, was at an even safer distance.

Still, you peeked out the small window above the sink and could see the smoke rising from the exact place you saw her climbing.

Earlier, they arrived talking about how the newspapers and Twitter had reported what had happened to Theodore. You did no more than say that Gina brought it up, but you weren't on the case and it was ethically (as well as judicially) wrong for you to get too close. Still, you tried hard to say that you knew he was okay – which your father clearly managed to see as a half-truth.

“... I went to see him at the hospital,” You mumbled, eyes fixed on the dishes in front of you, not daring to find out how he was looking at you.

“You two talked?”

“No,” You paused. “But I saw Aileen.”

He didn't say anything; the tap was still on, but the noise of dishes being moved had stopped. You pretended you hadn't noticed, going to the cupboard and putting away the already dry glasses, trying to stay away from the excruciating gaze you felt on the back of your head.

That silence had meaning; your father could go days without bringing up the subject waiting for you to talk about it. Like it or not, you could let him use this strategy, and you would have more time to decide how to talk about it, but your mother knew this habit better than you and, well, there was a reason why you were talking away from her.

You closed the cabinet and turned around, moving closer to him before leaning the small of your back against the table, defensively crossing your arms. He turned off the tap, dried his hands; the worried expression never left his face.

“I was in the hallway and one of the detectives in charge called me. I turned around without realizing she was behind me, so she accidentally spilled hot coffee on my hand,” You held up your hand wrapped in the bandage.

“So you two didn’t interact? Aside from this?”

“Like in an indian soap opera, yeah,” Your answer made him hiss. “She apologized, I think. I don’t remember a lot.”

Well, it was a lie – one he could catch from a mile away. You remembered each piece of moment you could grab from that mess: the way her eyes widened at the sight of the coffee being spilled on your skin, the way she raised her hands to reach out, the pain, the step back you gave to make sure she wouldn’t get any closer and, specially, the way Benny and Henderson were watching the whole scene.

The reason why you didn’t go into a spiral of remorse was this fact, that amongst Z or Nick, the ones who were there were the least worse. Gus was nice, polite and Benny was… Benny. And for days you expected for something, for Emma to give you one last penitence or for O’Brien to spill some shit on your face; God knew you deserved it all. It was a bad feeling. You didn't like the idea of feeling embarrassed, the exposure or even your lack of reaction, but more than that, you felt torn by the idea that you hadn't felt as sorry for Theodore as you thought you would.

“It’s just… I’ve been punching myself for even going there in the first place,” You sighed in defeat, your good hand passing all over your face.

“Maybe we raised you way too well.”

“That’s not entirely true… But not because of you, that is.”

And you knew you shouldn't have said that, at least not in those words, because then he would come with more arguments about how you should let your mother in, about how she wanted to be part of your life and how it would be better to have her as a support – as a woman-to-woman conversation would be more enlightening.

He didn’t even need to point that out, in fact; you already slipped in before he could open his mouth.

“I think it's better not to.”

“Because she could be too harsh?”

“Because she could be too honest. I love her, dad, I really do, but I had a hell of a moment with a coworker that makes me ashamed to even look at his direction because of it. I…”

I don’t want to disappoint her again. I don’t want to be a burden.

It was always much easier for your brother when it came to your mother: she welcomed him and they just understood each other. With you it was always a problem. She said you spent a lot of time with your dad, that you must be like this or that, that, honey, Theodore is a great kid but I don't think he'll come back after college. He returned. You got married. You got divorced and, during all the crises, you were also embarrassed to come back with your tail between your legs to say that she was right in a way. You made your brother swear under professional secrecy that he wouldn't tell her anything, but you still contained details just in case.

So no, it was better not to. It would be another shame, another thing that she would look at you with great pity, and you were tired of putting yourself in that position.

“I'm off the case anyway. Gina doesn't report to me, just like she gave the tests to the person on the other shift. There's no risk of me getting closer to Theodore again.”

“But you were looking for something when you went there. Did you find it?”

You stared straight at his eyes for a long, beating moment.

“... I did.”

“And what was it?”

For a brief second, you could still feel the sensation of seeing Theodore beaten up, the dried blood and lowered eyes. Could see the way he seemed fine, injured but not unstable, able to still be operative, essential to the industry.

“Relief.”

****

“I know you.”

You didn't expect it to come out so full of doubt, but you expected him to have some memory lapse in the time you had seen him.

Dr. Cillian Byrne was a professor you had at university just before you changed your major. It was in your first year, at the end of the first semester, and with the changes in the curriculum for your audiovisual expertise, you only had the chance to attend, roughly, three or four of his classes. He was a bit young for the position, people said, and when your academic psychopathy caught other people's attention, they told you the same thing. Unlike him, you never went that far. After you graduated, you joined the LASD and managed to pass the evaluation for field CSI, but with so much bureaucracy in the way, you ended up stationed in the laboratory for good.

Looking at him there, it felt like a full circle moment. You didn't connect the dots until that last name took place and you exchanged glances with Emma from afar, who just shook her head lightly as if to say you shouldn’t mention Ballard.

“I took some classes with you in college,” You mentioned after saying your name, watching his eyebrows raise in recognition.

“Right, I remember you. The girl who ran to the second boring stuff in CSI.”

“The second?”

“It's the rule. First come the academics, then the laboratory rats, then the coroners and only then the self-centered field ones.”

Emma was walking towards you when he said that, so when she got closer and saw that the two of you were sharing friendly laughs with each other, she went from confused to pleased in seconds.

“It isn’t that usual to see a successor at a faraway party, but I feel like it’s going well,” She said.

The hotel ballroom was full (exaggeratedly, but fair enough) and judging by the amount of times you saw Dr. Byrne going from group to group with smiles, you could agree that he was breaking the awkwardness of being there under these circumstances. Maybe it was the mood itself. Everyone was well dressed, sipping expensive drinks they could only have on special occasions, laughing at whoever was on duty and taking photos for Facebook; the boring part could wait until the next day.

“I was telling her she’s the first familiar face I've seen here, which is a surprise,” Dr. Byrne lied, so you sipped on your soda to avoid giving that away.

“... Oh,” Emma frowned, a confused smile fighting for its life to not make her discomfort so evident. “You do know each other, then.”

“He was one of my professors in college.”

“Almost,” He teased, eyes swiping from you to her. “I found out just after two weeks that she fled to the computers.”

“You seem to have been upset about this,” She was the one teasing now, on the verge of embarrassment to be honest.

“Well, when you start hearing how much this student who changed majors became one of the bests… It’s hard not to feel at least jealous, right?”

And perhaps Emma and you would talk about this in the future if it hadn't been in that sensitive context, because it was clear that Dr. Byrne had looked into everyone in the department and was perhaps doing background checks as if he were doing his homework. It was the first time in months that you and Emma exchanged a similar look, raising your eyebrows and understanding the situation right away, sharing glances with an inside joke that you hadn't told each other for a long time.

“She’s really great, I have to admit. Hurts me to leave this whole amazing team, to be honest,” She went the easy and polite way, one hand tapping on your arm. “I'm sure you'll get along great on a daily basis.”

“I’m looking forward to it. Who else would give me a better report on what’s up with the infamous Major Crimes’s gang?”

This time, the discomfort that had been eating away at the edges and that you were able to overcome came to the surface, which made you step back with confusion close to indignation. Dr. Byrne seemed neutral despite this, smiling from ear to ear as he watched Emma unsure of what to say and then you, coming to the inevitable conclusion that he was an idiot.

“... I’m afraid that I’m not the best person to expect that. Perhaps the sheriff?” You gave one more chance to get away with the topic, but he shook his head and insisted, keeping that smile that started to scare you off a little.

“Why wouldn't it be you? Emma told me that you all have an extensive professional partnership. Not to mention the quality of your reports on Ballard's cases.”

“Oh.”

“I just told him that you could explore more of your expertise with the complex cases they work with,” She rushed to add, the glare on your face now clear as the day.

“I see.”

“But I believe, Dr. Byrne, that I also added that she knows how to limit herself to technical reports, all personalized for each context. You saw it yourself, as she was an expert on a case with one of our most senior detectives.”

Only then, perhaps added to the way you were no longer so interested in being friendly around the subject, did Dr. Byrne step back and nod, praising your ability to remain professional in the work environment or something. You honestly stopped paying attention, eyes swiping over your drink in hand to avoid any signs of clear embarrassment.

“I’m really excited to start this new journey with you all. See you on Monday?” He turned to you, giving just enough time for your reaction to snap your head up and force a smile.

“Of course. Welcome to LASD.”

You two shook hands, then he left.

But Emma stayed.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“Did you also mention your friendship with Walsh?” You couldn’t help the venom on your voice, which made her sigh. “Very professional, Emma. Very professional.”

“He just did the research, okay? I wasn’t intending to share everything about you guys, but he just came by with a fucking folder with all your names on it. Not to mention what the sheriff told me…”

Not that you were in a position to speculate, much less to sympathize with whatever she had faced, but Emma lost her neutral posture as soon as he walked away, that you lost some of your irritation and eyed at her suspiciously, seeing her looking around and making sure no one would hear.

“I made a list of recommendations, but he didn't even read them and said that Byrne had already been chosen. Nick came up to me and said that-”

“You talked with Nick about it?”

“See how weird things are,” She rolled her eyes. “I think he feels threatened. Byrne is close to the sheriff, this could undermine O’Brien's freedoms.”

“And is it bad?”

“I don’t know… I mean, when you know how someone operates, it can be easy to guess, but I’ve never been around him enough to be sure of anything.”

“So you’re suspicious because of this,” You concluded and she agreed. With a deep breath, you looked around just as she did minutes before, catching sight of Cillian and Lennon talking.

“He’s… an academic.”

“He’s a brat,” You shook your head, biting your lower lip while still staring at him from afar. “Older men, high IQs... Just the smell of testosterone bothers me.”

“It's not like my feminine presence made any difference.”

When you looked at her again, surprised by her condescending tone, Emma was sipping her own drink with some embarrassment. You didn't know if you should give any approval, if you even had the right to do that, but you knew that it was just her trying to have a clearer conscience about what happened. Byrne was going to take over, and she admitted she had misgivings about the guy – it was noble, like a last shred of ethics in the middle of what seemed like a specifically planned transition.

“... You made it easier for Walsh to take over the case once and for all, didn't you?”

Emma kept quiet, which was enough of an answer. Not knowing what to say, you nodded along in that silence, unsure if you were shocked or just… relieved.

“I can understand your disbelief in Nick's methods. Take it from me, I had some problems because of it,” You conceded, so she raised her eyes at you sheepishly. “It's hypocritical to say that in parting, but I was upset that you did that knowing that Walsh would somehow throw me into the fire.”

“You better than anyone could understand that it was an inevitable consequence.”

“I do, that’s why I never tried to make it a big deal all these months. God knows we have a lot to be forgiven for, so… Be careful with Mathias, ‘kay? Just as you’re telling me to be careful with Byrne.”

It was the closest you and she could get to resolving the problems. In the future, perhaps, you could look at it more coldly and understand that it was too dramatic, but it wasn't the time; at the moment, the two of you have reached a consensus for the greater good.

The kind that included men with a lot of midlife crises.

****

Benny had seen the whole scene, from Byrne approaching you, the jokes he made you laugh at and even the moment he made you throw a look of disgust at him. He shouldn't even be there anymore: he had a date that night, one that would probably result in a good fuck and none of Emma's rascality. Still, as he watched you interact with those people, Benny ended up traveling in thought again.

He thought he missed what you had risked before. You were more relaxed, determined; you had no way of deciding what he was because the two of you barely knew each other. The dress you wore there was similar to the one on your first date, but not the same. If he tried, he could still feel your awkward drunken ways or, with more effort, visualize the result of an alcohol-free night like the one you were having at that party.

Deep down, Benny wanted to feel like a good guy because, for some reason, he didn't want to put you in that trophy position like he did or would do with other women. This comforted him; encouraged him. If he got closer again, if you started a relationship again, he was afraid that he would succumb to the boredom of not being able to hold on to that heroic feeling of having spared you from something toxic, that would soon hurt you or he would hurt himself.

“Are you going?” Connors asked as soon as he felt Benny shift beside him. “She’s gonna say some words.”

So he stayed, both feet firmly planted on the floor as long as he could, watching each other as Emma went up on the small improvised stage to test the microphone and you, who remained in the same place, one arm resting on the bar counter as you looked at the scene with a blank expression.

“You know, I never thought I would go through this before I was 60, but I think destiny is something impressive,” Emma said. “Having to say goodbye to you all is painful, but I know that this new phase will be transformative for all of us. In a positive way, that is.”

You passed your hand (the injured one) over your mouth, as if you were hiding a reaction even though no one other than him was paying attention to you.

“Since I'm not much of a talker and since I know I said my private goodbyes to everyone here, I'd like to recite one of the emails I received from my mentor once I got my position at LASD.”

Everyone got quiet.

“True peace is only truly achieved when we realize that we cannot be all good and, therefore, we will be villains for some and heroes for others. It’s an unfair and cruel measure, but despite being protagonists of our own stories, our moral compass will not always point in the right direction. It’s up to us, as human beings, to embrace our weaknesses and ensure that, within our obligations, we can do our best. Therefore, our sacrifices will soon be seen as choices, which will or will not shape who we’ll be as people.”

It was only for a second, a thousandth of a second, when Emma finished that corny speech and everyone applauded, that Benny looked at you again and saw that you looked back. It shouldn't have meant anything to you, just like it did to him, but he knew that, perhaps, that adventure should’ve ended before it began.

That was the choice you two made.

****

No pressure tags:

@cheesybadgers

@thoroughlymodernminutia

@seaweeden

@thesandbeneathmytoes

@eclecticfashionbookszipper

@servenas-inner-fangirl

@mysoulisasunflower

#benny borracho magalon #maurice compte #benny magalon #benny magalon x reader #female reader #reader insert #den of thieves fic #den of thieves

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seeds-and-sins · 1 year ago

Text

Light My Fire - Part Four

Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x F!Reader

Rating: M (Crude Language, mentions of depression and death)

Description: During incarceration, you come across a special boy. Years later, memories are brought to the forefront that you don't recall ever existing.

Tagged: @tonixe, @chernayawidow, @mrsjenniferwinchester, @deans-spinster-witchs-favorites @ophennie, @virgoelf-blog, @my-obsession-spn

Author's Note: I hope this makes up for the lost time. I know it has been a while. More so the fact that I have a lot going on and definitely not the fact that I had this sitting on my laptop for weeks. Please don't hate me. :)

Part Three

You sipped from a cigarette, smoke flowing like a stream from your nostrils. You blankly stared down at the tray in front of you, flicked the excess ashes into the bowl.

"So, would you say you have seen an improvement in your time here?" Your eyes drifted up to the white coat sitting across from you. She had wrinkles all over, beady eyes, cat eye glasses, freshly manicured nails tapping against her clipboard.

You don't even remember why you were here. In this white room, with nothing around you, nothing but a table and two chairs. You had been here for weeks. After each session, they would move you from this room, into another. That other room was also mostly empty; a single bed, an end table with a lamp, a toilet and a sink. Between this room and that one, there was nothing but a hallway of doors. One door after the other, titanium metal doors.

You didn't know where you were, you didn't know why you were here, all you knew was that you weren't thinking about *him* anymore. You didn't want to die anymore. There was a strained calm that blanketed you and it was because of these pills. You were complacent to your situation. And in your eyes, compacency was a better comfort than a struggle. You had been struggling for so long. You wanted to relax. You could relax here. Everything was taken care of for you, everything was what you needed it to be, to clear your mind.

"Sure." You replied in between another drag, smoke wafted in the woman's face, she didn't react. She was used to you. She had been your lab coat since you first arrived here, after Vogelbaum started losing interest at least.

There was one thing to be noted about this room. One thing that you had never realized before, or one thing that had never been there in your previous visits. Your eyes kept darting toward it, fluttering to and fro, like a bug to a flashing lightbulb.

There.

Tucked in the corner, in the far corner of the stark white room...

A tiny red lego.

Through a sea of fog in your mind.

It wouldn't have been noticeable to the average eye from this distance. Not unless the eye was trained. Your eyes weren't average and they didn't need to be trained to see what you saw.

Your immediate explanation:

"Someone didn't do their job." You said outloud, lining a stare directly on the white coat. Her fingers wrapped around her clipboard and her eyebrows furrowed at you.

"I'm sorry?" You rolled your eyes, stamping the cigarette out in the table as you stood. You circled the table and with bare feet, trotted your way over to the miniature piece. You crouched down, pinched it between your fingers and lifted it high. You inspected it with a deepening curiosity, which only grew further when your white coat began to tremble in her red high heels. You focused on her again, extending the lego to her.

"Ya'know, you don't have kids here, do you?" You already knew the answer, so you were definitely patronizing in your tone. Luckily, you had been working on your anger issues these past few weeks; otherwise, you would have blown a fuse.

Kids?!

What the fuck was Vogelbaum thinking?!

What happened to old heroes? Grown adults that worked their asses off to get recognized for a program like this.

In your opinion, heroes shouldn't even be made anymore. The Hero Program should have ended with Soldier Boy. The Hero Program should have ended with Payback.

"My goodness, I have no idea." She feigned a gasp, holding her chest.

That answer didn't suffice.

You flicked the lego piece so hard that it put a dent in the white wall of the room.

"Okay." You looked directly up at the camera. "You want to play it that way?" The calm was gone. So began the rampage. You stormed for the metal door and easily ripped your way through it. The white coat screamed, she began shouting into the collar of her coat.

"HELP! CODE RED!" You made your way down the hallway, starting with the first metal door you came across. You broke through it like butter.

Empty.

You went for the next door, after a few seconds of walking, it was to your right.

Empty.

"Phoenix! Listen closely! Stop this!" Vogelbaum sounded over the intercom.

"Oh yeah?" You broke through the next door.

Empty.

Metal shards were everywhere. You broke through three more doors before Vogelbaum's pleas intensified, you knew you were getting close.

You broke through another door. It was the last one you broke through.

And there...

A child.

You found a blonde haired, blue eyed boy on the other side. He was hunched in the corner, arms held up defensively, but there was no fear in his eyes.

"Phoenix, Go back to your room. Walk away." You ignored Vogelbaum's evenly voiced demands. He sounded completely devoid of the panic he previously expressed. Now there was just stillness. Now there was just calm. Your eyes narrowed on the boy, you stepped forward.

"Hi," You greeted, not certain of what exactly you were looking at. What exactly was happening here? "What's your name, kid?" He was wearing a red, white, and blue stripped shirt and jeans. To any outsider, he appeared to be a normal kid. And despite his living conditions, they weren't terrible living conditions. But no child should be imprisoned, no child should be experimented on.

"John." He said, eyeing you up and down, he stepped from his corner. "What's your name?"

"I don't remember," You replied honestly. "Haven't gone by my real name in decades." You lifted your chin, inspected the room with a quick glance. "People call me Phoenix."

"Why?"

"Because I became something else." You said with confidence, "like fire."

"You're fire?" He squinted at you, "You don't look like fire." You inhaled a deep breath, that was a fair deducation. You crouched down to his level, despite the distance that he stood from you. You lifted your hand in front of you and snapped your fingers, a small flame appeared at the tip where your thumb and pointer convened. The boy's eyes balloned with wonder.

"I'm a special kind of person, kid..." You smiled, dismissing the flame with a swing of your hand and standing up. "I'm betting you're special too."

As you finished your sentence, armed men, dressed in all black, and wearing masks, flooded the hallways on either side of you. You jolted into the room and spun, standing your ground between the boy and the men that soon filled up the entrance. Their guns were trained on you.

"I didn't want it to be like this, Phoenix." Your eyes flashed red, fists balling up at your sides.

"He's just a kid, Vogelbaum."

"He's not yours to worry about."

"I'm not leaving this room without him."

"Maybe he doesn't want to leave." You paused, then glanced over your shoulder at the boy. He seemed unfazed by the events taking place before him, but his wide blue eyes stared up at you expectantly. You cocked your head at him, the red in your eyes faded.

"Where are your parents?" He blinked at you, like he didn't even know what you were talking about. You spun around and crouched in front of him, grabbing his shoulders with your hands. You conpletely ignored the armed men lined up behind you, guns now trained on you and ready to fire. They wouldn't be able to hurt you anyways. "Listen to me, kid, how did you get here?"

"I've always been here." He replied, your eyebrows furrowed, you rubbed his shoulders, not exactly knowing how to react to that response. What you really wanted to do was go find Vogelbaum and shove his head up his ass. A child?! Really? That was some piece of shit scientist bullshit.

Something overwhelmed you in that moment. Something you hadn't felt in years:

Purpose.

This was the reason you were here. This was the reason you had been willingly waiting in that stupid white room, week after week. You were here for this boy.

"Do you want to come with me?" You asked, lips forming a tight lipped smile. John's eyes scanned every inch of your face, you could tell he was trying to figure out if he could trust you.

"Are you my mommy?" You didn't hesitate in your response.

"No." You said firmly, "And I don't know who your mommy is." You sighed, "But I do know that you don't belong in a goddamned box. You're a person, John. You're a very special person-"

"Phoenix-"

"Shut Up, Vogelbaum!" John's head tilted, attention moving between the intercom, the camera in the corner of the room, and then back to you.

"You want to take me with you?"

"Yeah." You stood up, hands still held on his shoulders. "I'll get you out of here. You can see what the real world is like. I'll take care of you." John rushed into you, his arms wravelled around your waist and a gasp escaped you in surprise. You patted him on the back, the strength in the hug increased as he adjusted his arms, but you didn't mind. He was really strong. Strong to the point that if you didn't have powers too, you'd probably be crushed by now. "Vogelbaum..." You cupped the back of John's head and he withdrew enough to look up at you. "I think it's time for me to get back out into the world again." You smiled brightly, and this time it was the first genuine smile you had given in years. "And John is coming too."

...

2022...

"The unexplained explosion at the Chimp Country Sanctuary is now being attributed to a gas leak. At this time, the bodies of countless chimps that were harbored at the sanctuary are being recovered by authorities. Including the body of the beloved hero, Crimson Countess. As you know, she was a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's fiancé. More information-"

"Those goddamned gas leaks..." You muttered under your breath, standing directly in front of the giant flat screen TV with a consterned expression on your face. "You can never trust'em, ya'know. One put me out a while back and I scarcely think I recovered from it." You were talking to no one in particular. You were in a smaller room with a window that spanned one side, giving a quarter view of a city landscape. There was a leather couch behind you, a coffee table in front of you, a bookshelf in the corner. Behind you, an elderly woman with silver hair, who had her back turned to you, was preparing a cup of coffee.

"I'm sorry, dear, what was-" As the elderly woman turned, she gasped and nearly dropped the steaming cup of coffee in her hand. She startled with a jolt, having to cling to the surface of the counter beside her to keep herself steady. "What the fuck, Phoenix..." The woman grumbled through bright red lips. "What happened to your clothes?!"

"I took them off. Helps me think better. Agnes!" You spun around, the woman rolled her eyes and began a slow walk toward you. "I've decided I'm going to be a vegetarian."

"Phoenix, honey..." The woman took her time bending down to put her coffee on the table. She then stepped up to you and placed her hands on your shoulders. "That is wonderful, but you have an interview in ten minutes and you are completely naked."

"Oh, it's no big deal." You waved Agnes away and stepped past her toward the window. "I'll throw my suit on when I'm good and ready."

You had become erratic over the years. Your train of thought was constantly everywhere, thinking everything, all at once. If you weren't keeping yourself busy somehow, you were thinking about things you didn't want to think about and that just wouldn't do. You were thinking about things that never even happened.

Oh no.

Too much thinking.

"Do you think I should be more upset that Countess is dead?" You sighed, Agnes plopped down on the couch in defeat. She had been working with you for the better half of twelve years and she knew you all too well to know that you weren't going to relent. "Like I'm not going to her memorial or anything, but..." You chewed the inside of youf cheek, "I thought I would be more upset."

"I don't know, dear. I really don't know."

Knock. Knock.

An orange head popped into the room, you recognized that it was Ashley, Vought's newest hero executive.

"Hey-" Who entered the room with a chirpy energy about her. "JESUS CHRIST!" There it was. "Why are you naked?!" Ashley cupped the side of her eye and turned her head away, clutching her clipboard like a vice to her chest.

"What's wrong, Ashley? See something you like?" You purred, leaning your shoulder into the window. "Urgh. You guys are so boring." You snapped your fingers at Agnes expectantly, she reached into the pocket of light pink button up and procurred a small packet of white powder. It was tossed haphazardly across the room, you swiftly swiped it from the air. "Is John coming?"

"Just uh-" Ashley was a stuttering at this point. "Will you please put clothes on?"

"Fine. I will. Answer my question." You scooped some cocaine from the packet and shoved it into your nose. White residue covered your nostrils and your finger as you had messily used the subtance. You sniffed heavily, nostrils flaring. You shoveled a second scoop and repeated the motion.

"No. Homelander has other pressing-"

"Fine." You shook your head, lips flapping comically. "Okay." You stood tall, "Get me my suit. It's show time."

Within minutes, the three of them were walking down a hallway. Persons were speeding back and forth with papers in hand and tasks to complete. You were at the head of the trio, weaving between the workers with ease, walking with purposeful and long strides. Your black cape flowed behind you with each step, boots thumping in time. Agnes was off to your right, struggling to keep pace in her old age and her high heels, and Ashley was already a nervous wreck so she was keeping up just fine but building a sheen of sweat.

"Let's go over the rules again." Ashley breathed heavily, the three of them paused at an elevator. Agnes hunched forward and tries to catch her breath. You paused and then sent Ashley the blankest expression. "Tell me. I need to make sure you know them."

"No telling people to fuck off on live TV."

"Yes. Next." Ashley prompted, the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. The three entered, Agnes hobbling behind.

"No mentioning sex on TV."

"Anything sexual, don't mention it." Ashley explained further, nodding to herself. "Next." You crossed your arms and pinched your chin, eyes narrowing in thought.

"Um..." You shook your head, "It has something to do with minorities, doesn't it?"

"Politics." Ashley firmly aided, "No political talk."

"But-"

"No. Please." Ashley was genuinely begging. The last time you were on TV and you made a major messup, it wasn't on Ashley's shoulders. Now, it was on Ashley's shoulders to make sure that this interview went as smoothly as possible. And it only made matters worse in knowing that the person hovering over her was not the normal Vought executive. It was Homelander now.

Stillwell was gone. Stan Edgar was on his way out the door. And Homelander was officially set lose. No one was safe.

The doors dinged open and they walked out, arriving at the floor on Vought tower typically used for the news. The studio was already set up, workers were everywhere. You made a path straight for the empty spot on the couch beside Cameron Coleman: Vought's celebrity news anchor. As soon as you came into view, the usual ruckus of a studio set dissipated into murmurs and quiet. Coleman stood and held his hand out, he was anxious. You had a reputation for being a hastle to keep control of, you didn't blame him. You only made it worse when instead of shaking his hand, you grabbed it, flipped it over and kissed his knuckles.

"Wrong answers only." You winked at him, to your amusement, he became more flustered than he already was. You took your seat, swinging your cape up behind you to keep it from getting caught. Through all the bright lights directed at you, you saw Ashley waving frantically. She pointed at you when you met her gaze and mouthed, *Behave*. You spotted Agnes beside her and stuck your tongue out between two fingers, the obscene gesture made the woman turn red and she turned away.

"Are we ready?" Coleman asked as he buttoned his suit jacket and sat down. Someone behind the camera held up a thumb and then a count down started. Loud music blared in the background, Coleman's face grew stern and he stared at the camera.

"Is our government doing what it needs to protect us from this super-villain threat? Can we trust our leaders to take the proper stand and protect our nation? Here, I invite a former member of Payback and current hero against the super-villain threat overseas, Phoenix, how are you today?"

Everything was going well...

At first.

Ever since heroes were allowed into combat, publicly, Vought had put you in the Middle East. You had been taking down terrorists in caves and capturing enemy territory for almost an entire year before Vought brought you back. Vought didn't tell you why they brought you back, but you could assume it was because of your conduct. You weren't being very merciful over there. Targets that were supposed to be detained, were killed.

And how were you supposed to know the difference? They all acted the same anyways.

The truth was, you had gone way off the rails over there. Bringing you back was Vought's way of trying to maintain the peace. At this point in time, the government liked having heroes overseas. They wouldn't like it much longer if you continued being a problem.

So now, in the months following your return to America, you had become something of a spokesperson. You were labeled an American hero, a soldier, another defense against those 'vile super-villains'-as John so insisted they be called.

But really. Truly. You weren't okay. You hadn't been okay for a long time. Something was off. In your head. Your ventures in the Middle East had only made it worse.

You answered all the questions with conviction and a charming smile. Ashley even gave you the thumbs up, because everything was going great.

Until it wasn't...

"Phoenix, I'd like to touch on one more subject before you leave us today and I'm sure it will be a tough one..." Oh boy, you thought, another curve ball that you hadn't prepared for perhaps? "Crimson Countess..." Dread filled you, Coleman shifted in his seat and sent you a sad smile. You knew it was all an act and you prepped yourself to do the same. "In light of her death, is there anything you'd like to say? Any fond memories you have that you'd like to share?"

"Uh..." You shrugged, feeling a little panicked. You still didn't know how you felt about any of it because, frankly, you felt nothing for her. "Not really. Her and I weren't very close." Coleman's eyebrows furrow, that answer didn't seem to satisfy him.

"Really? But didn't you serve alongside her for four years?" You saw in the corner screen, facing the set, the images they were broadcasting. They were of the past. Crimson and you were clinging to eachother in one photo, laughing about a joke you don't recall. Another photo of the both of you, fighting crime together. Another photo of you standing side by side at a charity gala, dressed to impress, smiling brightly. "Surely, you both used to be great friends. What happened?" You squinted, head cocking to the side, the photos were removed from the screen and the small tv went black. Then it was the mirror image of Coleman and you, sitting on the red leather couch. You stared at yourself, at the consternation in the mirror image. "After Soldier Boy passed, I imagine you both would have gotten closer? Am I wrong? Phoenix?" Coleman insisted, your head began to throb.

Soldier Boy?

What did he have anything to do with this?

You squeezed your eyes shut and shook your head.

"Soldier Boy?" You were trying to catch yourself, but miserably failing. Your eyes shot up to Coleman and he raised a brow at you.

"Phoenix, are you okay? Talk to me." He was just prodding, as any interviewer would, given the circumstances. You gulped, then looked to Ashley who waved aggressively at you to continue talking.

But before you could speak, a rush of memories overcame you. You felt like your brain was being trampled on by a herd of buffallo.

Images of what you knew...

Fading.

The nuclear power plant in Ohio...

Soldier Boy laying on the ground...

It was almost like...

"Please try not to cause trouble out there." That charming smirk encompassed his face and you felt warm at just the sight of it. You were surprised to say that you were glad he stopped by. It wasn't like anyone else on the team had bothered.

"Honey, trouble is my middle name." You laughed at him, but your giggle was cut short with a harsh cough that sent you hunching forward. You felt his hand at your back and when you looked up you saw the deep scowl on his expression.

"Get Vogelbaum in here again. I don't like this."

"It's fine. I'll be okay. When you get back from Nicaragua, I'll be good as new." You attempted a reassuring smile, but it failed you. You looked more uncomfortable and the wince from the sharp inhale in your lunge did not go unnoticed.

"You better be." Soldier Boy cupped under your chin and you both stared at eachother before he withdrew. "I'll be back before you know it, hot stuff." He winked at you before turning away and heading down the hall.

...

It never happened.

The nuclear power plant never happened, but how could that be?! You have memories of escorting people away from danger, putting out fires, and Soldier Boy? You recall him telling you to...

"Go save the civilians. I'll take care of this."

You could hear his voice echo in your head, those exact words.

Before he died.

Before you found him laying in a mess of concrete and he was in your arms and you were crying because even if he was an asshole a part of you always loved him.

And then nothing...

"Phoenix?" Coleman called, snapping you from your trance like state once more. You blinked at him, then you gulped. Your throat had gone dry.

"I don't know." You answered grimly, "Actually, I should be going." You stood up and slowly walked off the stage. The crowd of crew members surrounding the set parted for you and watched in confusion as you walked away. Ashley met your side with furious steps.

"What happened?!" She was panicking. Everything was going good. What happened?! "You need to go back up there!" You had gotten as far as the elevator when Agnes was jogging up behind the both of you.

"Phoenix, honey, what's wrong?" You stared blankly at the seam of the elevator doors.

"Soldier Boy..." Your eyes rose to Ashley and they furrowed at her. "Where is his grave site again?"

"Washington D.C., I think, next to the Lincoln Memorial." Ashley answered in a weak whisper, she was looking at you in horror. "Why?"

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open and you entered them. Neither Agnes or Ashley followed, they gazed at you with questioning looks and you didn't give them any answers.

The doors slid shut behind you.

You were gone.

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#soldier boy x reader #reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy #the boys #payback #oc hero name #crimson countess #vought international #tnt twins #black noir #homelander #the seven

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