#i would much rather scream and fight than... this

[justmymindandstuff]

Love doomed to fail - Jacaerys Velaryon x TargtowerReader (you)

summary: The divide between the blacks and the greens is deep. A final attempt to overcome the hostilities is the betrothal between Rhaenyra´s eldest son Jacaerys and Alicent's younger daughter. A constellation that is cursed from the start. Especially if your heart belongs to someone else. Or maybe not?

words: 14.427

relationships: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader // Aegon Targaryen x Reader (previously; implied)// Jacaery Valaryon x Baela Targaryen (previously; briefly mentioned)

warnings/ tropes: enemies to almost lovers to enemies, slow burn , arranged marriage, angst, swearing, insults, violence, bastard bashing, rape threats (brief), adult themes, sexual themes (not explicit), jealousy, Jace has angerissues, incest (obvious)

a/n: trying a new writing style with this// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // not proofread // first time writing Jacaerys // AO3 //

this turned out a lot longer than I originally thought. And to be honest, I'm a little proud of it🙈. I had a lot more fun writing Jace than I thought I would. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.🧡

Have fun and be kind to eachother and yourself 🧡.

requests are open// main masterlist// hotd masterlist

Cold wind blows in Jacaerys face causing a teasing burn on his skin. His hands grip Vermax's reins tightly. The sun has barely risen on the horizon. Beneath him, on the restless sea, the ships of the Velaryon fleet are tossed back and forth in the waves.

The battle with the Trirachy is already in full swing. His little brother is on one of these ships. He has to save him. He has to destroy the enemy fleet to save his brother. The plan was to get Aegon and Viserys to safety. It had been his plan. He failed.

Now he has to win this battle. He must destroy the fleet to protect his brother. To win the war for his mother. The blockade must hold. He gives the command, Vermax turns towards the enemy fleet. Below him, the men caught up in the fight shouting orders.

Jacaerys's attention is drawn by a dark shadow above him. In the next moment, Vermithor breaks through the clouds. In that moment Jace knows he will die today.

He recognizes the contemptuous look of your mother,Alicent Hightower, on your face. Your smile is perfect and false.

Jace tugs at his shirt. The black silk is soft against his skin, yet he would rather tear the fabric apart. He feels uncomfortable. He doesn't want to be here. He wishes the black stones of Dragonstone would open up beneath his feet and he would disappear. But nothing like this happens. Instead, he stands next to his mother and watches as you walk up towards Dragonstone. Your ship is already turning in the harbor to sail back to King's Landing.

You only brought a few servants and maids. Your confidants. Jace knows that each of them is now under strict observation. His mother doesn't trust you at all.

Nevertheless, she smiles as you stand before them and sink into a perfect curtsy.

"Thank you for taking me into your home, dear sister." your voice is gentle, your words are kind. But it's all a lie. Everyone knows that's a lie. He heard the whispering. When your mother Alicent told you that you were to be sent to Dragonstone, its said that you have cursed and screamed. People said you had cried for two days and refused to leave your chambers. Jace wonders for a moment if the guards had to drag you to your ship.

Nevertheless, you stand here now. With a false smile and genuine pride. Your back straight. Dressed in the finest silk, green silk. Your long blonde hair in intricate braids. Gold jewelry in your strands that jingle with every step you take. Your purple eyes sparkle in the morning sun. You are the personified Targaryen beauty.

Jace can't help but admire your beauty. He allows it for exactly three heartbeats then he tries to raise his walls again. He swore to himself that he would never feel affection for you. But when you set your gaze on him and slightly lower your head in front of him, he doubts his vow to himself for a moment.

Jace really tried to be open to this betrothal. Since you two were little kids, you were engaged. You never accepted it for even a second. You hadn't even outgrown your nurserycambers when you loudly proclaimed in the courtyard that you would never marry a bastard. That you will never marry him.

Nevertheless here you are now. Send away from your family to marry him. Jace had negotiated a deal with his mother so he still has a little time before he has to marry you.

It's only fair. There was a different arrangement. Jace actually should have had two more years before the journey to the Red Keep for his funeral wedding. But things have changed. And that's your fault.

They were outsmarted. The enemy fleet has split up. Attack them from the north and south.

And they are accompanied by you on Vermithor.

None of them expected that. Spies and reconnaissance have reported that you are staying in the Red Keep with your sister Helaena to help her with her grief.

Jace should have never believed that. He knows you too well. He should have known that you wouldn't stay away from battle. He should have known that you would interfere. He failed again.

Jacaerys yanks Vermax around, out of the path of the Bronze Fury. His Dragon is too small to defeat Vermithor. He can´t do it alone.

But Jace still has a small glimmer of hope. He knows that Ulf and Addam are on their way.

Would the united strength of Vermax, Seasmoke, and Silverwing be enough to defeat you and your dragon? It has to be enough.

Jace is sneaking around outside the door to your chambers. Outside the keep he hears his brothers and stepsisters laughing. He wished he were with them now.

"Enter." your voice is gentle. You don't know that it's him standing at your door.

But his mother sent him to you. With a reminder of how important this marriage is for the family. So now he's lingering around your chambers, trying to muster the courage to knock on your door.

He sighs. That doesn't help at all.

He is a prince! The heir of his mother. One day he would be king and you will be his queen. He has to pull himself together. So he knocks on your door.

Jace enters your chambers and takes a quick look around. Nothing indicates that you have been living here for over a week. Nothing personal is lying around. Everything is tidy and seems unused. As if you were just here for a short visit and it wouldn't be worth unpacking your things. Presumably you hope that this is the case.

"What do you want?" you say with an annoyed voice. Jace gathers himself briefly before raising his voice.

You sit at the desk and look at him with a cold gaze. You don't even show the respect to stand up for him. Letters lie before you.

Since you arrived, the ravens of Dragonstone have been busier than ever. Every day you send letters to your siblings and your mother. Daily, ravens arrive with answers.

Jace knows that each one of them is read by the Measter and his mother. So far, there doesn't seem to be anything unusual.

Do you know it too? Do you know that his mother is intruding so much into your privacy?

"I wanted to inquire about your well-being. And ask if you have settled in well?" It sounds memorized and not serious. It's not meant seriously. He doesn't care whether you've settled in well. He doesn't want you here at all.

You snort disdainfully, not very princess like. "No, I haven't settled in." you say and turn back to your letters.

Frustration and anger rise within him. His hands clench into fists and he has to pause for a moment before he can speak again.

"I could show you the Keep a little. Maybe it will be easier for you to see it as your home then."

It's his mother's idea. Jace doesn't want to spend time with you. He wants to go to his siblings and fly over the surroundings on dragonback.

You jump up from your chair. Your dress is made of green silk, at always. The sun shines through the window behind you, making your skin glow warmly as you walk towards him. Jace becomes aware again of how beautiful you actually are. But he immediately pushes the thought aside. No! He doesn´t allow himself to think of you like that.

"This place." you make an expansive gesture with your hand. "Will never be my home! The Red Keep is my home." your voice is cold and full of hate. Hatred for him. And Jace can somehow understand it. He is the reason you are separated from your family. Although it's not entirely his fault, you also have your part in it. He refuses to take all the blame on himself. He forces himself to stay calm.

"I hope you change your mind. Dragonstone is not the Red Keep, but it has its advantages too. If you want, I can...

You interrupt him. "It's terrible here. I will never change my mind. I don´t want to be here, I don´t want to live here."

"It's your own fault that you have to be here already." he blurts out.

You pause, clench your jaw, and your eyes sparkle with such hatred towards him that Jace briefly fears you might claw his eyes out right here and now.

"I don't know what you mean." you lift your chin slightly. Liar. He wants to scream it in your face: Liar, liar, liar!

The rumors have reached Dragonstone. Rumors about the inappropriate relationship between you and your brother Aegon. Just the thought that his uncle has take his fiancée makes his skin crawl. It would suit both of you. You are unrestrained and rotten to the core. Just like all of Alicent's children. You take what you want. Whenever you wanted it. Best example is your brother Aemond, who stole Vhagar from Rhaena.

His gaze shifts to your necklace. The golden sun pendant lies on the pale skin of your décolleté. In Jace the urge to rip this necklace off your neck rises. He doesn't even need to ask you who you got this necklace from. Aegon is all over you. In your jewelry, on your clothes, green and gold is everywhere. You even have Sunfyre embroidered on a few of your dresses. Aegon has already claimed you as his. Although you rightfully belong to Jace. You are his fiancée! It makes Jace terribly angry.

He suppresses the urge to tear off your necklace and meets your hate-filled gaze with his own. "Then rot in your chambers. I don't care."

Vermax's frantic wingbeats makes Jacaerys nervous. He tries to calm his dragon, but he is also afraid. Vermax turns behind the fleet. Facing their enemys again. Jace lets his gaze glide over the battling ships. He searches for the lysian ship where his brother is supposed to be. If he manages to land Vermax onto it, he would be able to save his brother.

An arrow shoots past him just beside his head. The enemy ships have targeted him. He immediately makes Vermax climb higher into the sky, out of the line of fire.

Jace sees the large body of Vermithor flying over the Velaryon fleet below him. Two ships burst into flames beneath him.

You sit in the saddle, your long blonde hair blowing in the wind behind you. You turn your head and look up at him. You are too far away for Jace to see your face clearly. He expects you to summon Vermithor to attack him. To kill him. Instead, you make another round over the ships and set a few more on fire. The arrows from the scorpions, which have been set up on the ships of their fleet, don't seem to bother you. What is your plan? Why don't you attack him?

Are you so arrogant that you don't see him as a threat?

Can he use this arrogance to his advantage?

The stern look from his mother makes Jace shift his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. She is holding one of your letters in her hand.

"She begs Alicent to let her come home." Jace can hardly bear the disappointment in his mother's voice. "I asked you to make sure she feels comfortable here." It's an accusation. "Jace. You know how important this betrothal is. This marriage will reunite our separate houses into one. House Targaryen is only strong when it is united."

He has to suppress an annoyed groan. How many times has he heard that already?

"She doesn't want to feel comfortable here at all. She is unbearable."

Rhaenyra furrows her eyebrows. "Jace. You need this marriage. It is important for our house."

Jace knows exactly why the marriage to the Hightower daughter is important. It legitimizes him. It is supposed to cover up the rumors about his father. Jace knows that, you know that, his mother knows that. Even if she will never admit that his father is not Laenor. He wants to scream it in her face. Jace has to endure you as his fiancée and later wife because his mother has been lying with Harwin Strong. But instead, he swallows his anger and nods.

"I will try, Mother." he says.

She smiles gently at him and wants to say something more, but a knock stops her. Your letter is quickly hidden among other scrolls.

"Come in."

You enter the room. You don't give Jace a glance and simply turn to Rhaenyra.

"I wanted to ask if my siblings could come for a visit. Only for an afternoon?"

Jace notices how you try to hide the trembling of your hands. You are nervous.

"Our siblings are always welcome here. They don't need my permission to come visit us."

Your face immediately brightens. "Thank you, Rha… sister."

"We can do this." he says, unsure if he is speaking to Vermax or to himself. His dragon lets out a high-pitched whistle. It sounds approving. Jacaerys gathers all his courage and lets Vermax fall down from the sky again. Directly towards Vermithor and you.

His thoughts are racing. He wished he had had more time to learn. More time to study more strategies, more battles, more tactics. Should he have listened to Daemon better?

Jace bitterly realizes how inexperienced he actually is.

But now is not the time to study. Now is the time to act.

"What do you usually do in the Red Keep?"

Jace is trying to please his mother and starts visiting you every day. It takes four days during which you repeatedly send him away with a biting voice and insults before you agree to take a walk with him. He managed to persuade you to take a walk outside the castle. The barren surroundings are not really interesting, and cold wind blows up from the sea. Catches in your blonde curls and your green dress.

The silence between you is suffocating and uncomfortable. Every attempt to start a conversation, you block with one word answers.

If only he could find something you both have in common. But he doesn't know you. Knows nothing about you at all. And you give him nothing. Uninterested, you walk by his side. You ignored his offered arm. You don't even look at him most of the time.

You frustrate him incredibly. He is really trying hard here. You have no interest whatsoever in him or in a happy life together with him.

Do you really believe that you can get out of this engagement? Maybe you hope that your brother will save you.

Just the thought of it makes Jace angry again. He takes a deep breath. Jacaerys tries once more with conversation.

"Different things." you don't even give him a glance.

Jacaerys would like to scream. Or take you and shake sense into you. Why are you making it so difficult for both of you?

You shiver slightly as the cold wind blows around your ears. He doesn't know if it's his upbringing, his sense of duty, or just his character, but he follows his first impulse and takes off his cloak to drape it over your shoulders.

"Dragons" you hear a voice from one of the Guards of Dragonstone. Immediately, both of you turn around as well.

"Are you out of your mind?" you snap at him and push him away lightly. His hands clutch angrily at the fabric of his cloak. He just wanted to help. Fine then freeze, he thinks bitterly

You turn away from him. Jace considers for a moment whether to simply go back or call Vermax to him and fly away. It would certainly humiliate you if he would let you standing here all alone.

On the horizon, three approaching shadows can be seen. Vhagar, Dreamfyre and Sunfyre. At the sight, your eyes begin to sparkle and a radiant smile appears on your face. Jace has never seen you so happy. For the first time he sees you smile honestly and fuck you can smile so beautifully.

You spin around and take off running. Just leaves Jace standing there. He suppresses his anger slightly and then follows you. You eagerly await the dragons on one of the cliffs of the island.

Jacaerys stopps a few steps away from you.

Sunfyre is the first dragon to land. Aegon jumps off even before Sunfyre touches the ground, and immediately you both run towards each other and fall into each other's arms. Dreamfyre lands as well, and when Vhagar touches the ground, the earth trembles slightly. Your other siblings also quickly climb down from their dragons. You greet them no less enthusiastically. A few tears run down your cheek. Helaena is crying too.

A bad conscience creeps up on him. He is the reason why you are separated from your siblings. But when he sees Aegon carefully wiping the tears from your cheek, that hot feeling burns under his skin again. He remembers all the rumors that his mother wanted to keep away from him. Of course, he heard them all anyway. Baela gladly spilled everythin she had heard.

Alicent's children are completely ignoring him and he feels a little stupid standing aside. Maybe he should just go back. He is so different from them that it is difficult to recognize from the outside that they are actually all one family.

All four siblings are dressed in green, very Hightowerlike. Nevertheless, with their blonde hair, purple eyes, beautiful faces, and proud demeanor, they look much more like Targaryens than he and his brothers do.

"I brought you something," says Aegon, unbuckling a box from Sunfyre's saddle.

Jace rolls his eyes. Expecting another piece of jewelry with a golden sun. But when you open the box, soil and a few small green plants come into sight. Your eyes begin to sparkle and you beam at your brother.

"They have grown." you turn to Jace. For the first time since your arrival, you speak to him directly. "Before I had to leave the Keep, I planted a few new flowers in my garden. I thought they would die because I couldn´t take care of them." you explain. You have never spoken to him so gently. It seems you just realized that too, you blink in surprise and then simply turn back to your siblings.

"We took care of it," says Aemond.

"Thank you." again you smile your beautiful smile again. Jacaerys doubts you'll ever give him that kind of smile. "Let's go to the keep, I'm cold."

Your siblings agree with you. Aegon holds out his arm for you and you take it without hesitation. Then you hold out your hand to Helaena. For a moment, Jace thinks your sister would be angry at your open affection for her husband, but she just smiles happily and takes your hand. You and your siblings walk past Jace. Jealousy burns in his stomach at the sight of you leaning close to Aegon. Aemond gives him a disdainful look as he passes. Jacaerys watches you for a moment before following at a distance. He feels excluded and lonely. And then he realizes that you've probably felt the same way since you arrived here.

Vermithor and you are still busy setting the ships on fire. As Jacaerys quickly approaches, he can feel the heat of the flames. Vermax breathes fire without needing to be commanded. He aims directly at you. Jace knows that the flames of his younger dragon will not affect the Bronze Fury. But they will affect you. He can aim at you. He can kill you. Even if it's the last thing he does.

But Vermithor is experienced in battle. He senses the danger and turns his large body before the flames can reach you. Instead, the flames graze the skin of his wings. He lets out an angry growl.

You whirl around as the flames shoot past you. Now Jace is close enough to see your expression. Consumed by rage, you look up at him.

Jace's hands ache slightly as they slowly thaw again. Even his gloves couldn't shield him from the cold wind. Nevertheless, he would have preferred to fly on Vermax's back for hours longer. But it is time for his lessons. And before that he wants to quickly see his little brothers.

His steps lead him through the familiar halls of Dragonstone to the nursery. He opens the door and stops at the sight that greets him. A gentle song drifts through the room. Aegon and Viserys sit on a soft blanket in front of the fireplace. Their maid sits at the edge and is embroidering something. Next to his little brothers, you sit and watch over them. While little Viserys is completely focused on his wooden dragon, Aegon looks at you in adoration. You sing with a beautiful, gentle voice for his little brother, a soft smile on your face. Jace didn't even know that you were capable of smiling like that.

Your voice is gentle and weaves him in. It is a valyrian song, an old song. He doesn't know it. While you sing, he realizes that he is missing some words for an accurate translation. But the melodies you sing immediately dispel his frustration about it.

With him, you still block any attempt he makes to get to know you. Gods, you have even started to slowly befriend his stepsisters. Of course, neither Baela nor Rhaena are sure whether your friendliness is genuine or if you are still resentful because they are to blame for your brother losing an eye. Maybe you have finally understood that they were all just defending themselves against Aemond?

Nevertheless, they are trying to build a friendship. After all, they will soon be a family. Actually, they already are, but Jace feels that the rift between the Hightower children and them is so big that no one currently considers them as one family.

"Jay jay." Viserys' voice pulls him out of his trance. You also look up at him. You seem to notice him only now. Your song immediately falls silent. He wants to beg you to keep singing. He doesn´t do it and instead goes to his little brother. He kneels beside him and takes him in his arms. You watch him closely, your smile has disappeared, your jaw is tense again.

"Hey little one. Are you well?" he is not looking at you but at his brother. He wonders what you are doing here. What do you care about his little siblings?

Without a word, you stand up and leave the room. Aegon watches sadly as you leave, and Jace feels guilty because he drove you away.

"Did you have fun with the princess?" asks Jace.

"She always sings for us," Aegon replies, his speech still not quite clear but understandable. Viserys mostly just babbles nonsense that Jacaerys doesn't quite understand.

"Really?" he asks in surprise. He didn't know that. How could he? You still don't speak more than five words a day with him.

Aegon nods and smiles at him. He leans forward and begins to whisper. "She smells good. And she's pretty too."

Jace has to suppress a laugh but agrees with his little brother. "I know." he sighs.

That's exactly his problem. Your beauty attracts him. But that can´t be. He forbids himself to accept this. If you weren't so beautiful, it would be easier for him to handle your constant rejection.

Although there's a second problem. You are also damn smart. Your mind is sharp and quick. His mother had hired a new teacher. A philosopher and scholar trained at the Citadel in Oldtown. You had a lively discussion with him just a few days ago. You not only speak perfect High Valyrian, but also almost all dialects. Presumably even more languages. Rhaena had told him that you told her that you used to secretly read books from Asshai before your mother took them away from you.

It frustrates him. He would prefer to get this information directly from you. He is annoyed that he only gets all his information about you second-hand. He wishes you would open up to him.

He stays with his siblings for a moment longer before he really has to head off to his lessons. He arrives late. The master scolds him. Jace can hardly concentrate. Again, he gets scolded. But his thoughts are constantly revolving around something else.

Not just because his mother encourages him to do so. If he can win you over, then maybe your future together won't be as terrible as it might seem now.

At the same time, you're driving him crazy. One snarky comment from you is enough and his anger explodes under his skin. He has never reacted to anyone as quickly and as extremely as he has to you. You are unbearable.

Perhaps his hatred is strong enough to overcome his attraction to you?

No, that can't be. Rhaenyra still checks every letter that comes in and every letter that goes out. If there were even the slightest suspicion that you posed a danger to Viserys or Aegon, Daemon would have fed you to Caraxes without hesitation.

Why are you spending your time with his little brothers?

What's behind it?

What are you planning?

Are you dangerous to the two little ones?

Did your mother gave you instructions to injure the two?

Nevertheless, he finds no peace and finds himself at your chamber door in the evening. He knocks and enters without waiting for a response.

"Are you out of your mind!" you snap at him before the door behind him closes. Jacaerys hesitates and for a second he forgets why he came here.

"What do you want here?" your voice trembles with anger. You jumped up from the chair by the fireplace and are now standing in the room with your arms crossed. You probably don't notice that you are pushing up your breasts a little so that they almost spill out of your dress. But of course, you notice his inappropriate gaze on the curves of your breasts. The book you were reading before he entered hits him hard on the shoulder and then falls to the ground.

You have already changed for the night. A fine, white nightgown envelops your curves. Your long hair falls in gentle waves over your shoulders. Your lips are slightly reddened from the wine you drank.

Fuck, you're even more beautiful like that as you are when you're all dressed up and adorned with jewelry.

"Ouch! Are you crazy?" Jacaerys is pulled from his stupor. Jacaerys is torn from his stupor. His cheeks turn red.

"You look at me like a cow at the market! It's inappropriate that you are here so late," you say.

Jacaerys wants to explain himself, but in the next moment, you call for a guard. It takes no more than two heartbeats, and the door opens, and one of the guards from Dragonstone steps in.

"My Prince. Princess. Is there a problem?"

"Your prince is badgering me!"

Shocked, he stares at you. You didn't really just say that, did you? His jaw tightens. The guard looks at Jacaerys.

"My prince?" he begins. Jace can tell that he is overwhelmed by the situation.

"It's all right. The princess is just joking. Leave us alone," he commands, the guard obeys and leaves.

You stare after the guard with a shocked expression. Suddenly, something shifts in you. You swallow and blink a few times as you take a step back from Jace. You reach behind you for your morning robe and put it on. Jace sees that you feel uncomfortable. He feels bad. He just made it very clear to you that you have no power here. Not even in your own chambers. You feel vulnerable and unprotected and he forced you into this situation. He wants exactly the opposite He wants you to feel comfortable. Here on Dragonstone and with him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare," he begins, looking you in the face. He forces his gaze to stay glued to your eyes. He has the need to explain himself. "It's just" he begins, falters, and notices his cheeks turning red. He can no longer hold your gaze and instead looks out the window behind you. Outside, it's pitch black; he can only see his own reflection in the glass. Screw it. It doesn't matter anymore. He can´t deny it any longer. "You are very beautiful."

Every other maiden here would have probably shyly lowered her eyes and whispered a "thank you" with flushed cheeks at his words. After all, he is a prince.

You don't. You snort contemptuously and whisper a valyrian curse under your breath that he doesn't know. Contempt lingers in your voice.

"What do you want here?" you ask again.

Jacaerys hesitates for a moment longer and regrets having come here. But it's about his brothers.

"Why do you visit my brothers so often?"

Confused by his question, you look at him. "What do you mean?"

"Aegon told me you sing for the two."

"Is that forbidden?" your tone is sharp and makes Jace angry again.

You study his expression closely, then your posture tenses up a little more and you shake your head slightly while disbelief is reflected in your eyes.

However, if he starts shouting now, he would ruin everything.

"No, I just want to know the reason."

"They are children. I wish him no harm." your voice is so cold that an unpleasant shiver runs down Jacaerys' spine.

"I didn't mean it like that," he begins. He has to explain himself now. He wants to explain to you that you are misjudging him. But do you do that? He thought that you would harm his brothers. Where does this mistrust come from?

But before he can even sort out his thoughts, the door opens again. His mother enters the room next to her your guard.

"What's going on here?" she asks.

"Is here no privacy? These are my private chambers. Get out of here! Everyone." you suddenly yell.

Jacaerys is shocked by your disrespect towards his mother, the heir to the throne. Rhaenyra also needs a moment to regain her composure but then she smiles and sighs.

"You're right. I'm sorry, sister. We'll leave you alone now. Jace come." she apologizes instead of getting angry.

Jace can hardly believe his own ears. But then he follows his mother outside like a beaten dog.

In the hallway, his mother whirls around again, now the infamous Targaryenanger on her face. "We brought her here so early because of rumors! Don't be the reason there are new rumors!"

That's not what happend! His jaw tenses again, his hands clench into fists. He closes his eyes to calm himself down for a moment. But the image of your perfect curves under the thin fabric of your nightgown appears in his mind's eye. A strange mixture of lust and anger rises up inside him. You are driving him completely crazy. He quickly opens his eyes again. Jace wants to scream. Instead, he apologizes to his mother and turns around to go back to his chambers.

Vermax turns past the larger dragon, he is more agile and faster than your beast. He manages to create enough distance between you with quick wingbeats before Vermithor could turn around with a sluggish movement. The flames that burst from Vermithor's throat do not reach him. But the heat they radiate hits his neck painfully.

Jacaerys don´t see you for the next few days. Baela tells him that you are angry with him. Jace can't change that now. You made it very clear that you hate him. So he hates you too. At least during the day, he talks himself into it. He joins Luke in gossiping about you. All day long, he curses about how unbearable you are and that he doesn't want to marry you.

At night in his dreams, he can't lie. Almost every night, you haunt him in his dreams. They are inappropriate dreams that his horny teenage brain comes up with. Every morning he is rock hard when he wakes up. You really drive him crazy. Nevertheless, he can't resist and lets his dreams unfold before his inner eye while his hand slips under the blanket.

Afterwards, he feels better, but also guilty. He knows that you would burst with anger if you knew he thought of you like that. You would never consent. He feels bad. Still, he can't help it.

The conflict inside him is tearing him apart. Makes him tense. He notices his thin skin. Jace has to pull himself together and not shout at everyone.

When he returns to his chambers that evening to retire for the night, he can hardly believe his eyes.

You are sitting in one of the armchairs in front of his fireplace. The fire is burning. When he enters, you look up. You don't smile. Why should you? Nevertheless, this time there is no hatred in your eyes.

Jacaerys feels insecure in his own chambers. He lays down his cloak and sword and remains standing in the room. He doesn't say a word, even though his gaze is glued to you. He would prefer to sit down with you, but that feels inappropriately familiar to him.

"What are you doing here?" he asks in a calm voice. He doesn't want to argue with you again.

You hesitate for a moment. You stand up and smooth the skirt of your dress. The dark green silk appears almost black in the gentle light of the flames. Jace forbids himself from letting his gaze wander over your body. He looks you in the face. Not a single emotion can he see there.

Had your mother taught you to hide your emotions and thoughts behind a mask? He knows nothing about your childhood in the Keep. And yet, you will be his wife in just a few moons.

You exhale audibly, but when you speak, your voice is calm. Almost friendly.

"I wish no harm to your little brothers. I understand why you might think that. It's just, they remind me of my nephews. I miss them very much."

At the mention of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, warmth creeps into your voice and a sad sparkle appears in your eyes. Jace blinks and it is gone.

Your words calm him down. Although he is quite sure that he never really thought that you were endangering his brothers. It had just been a thought that had come to him.

Your explanation, however, also confuses him a little. And because he is not as controlled as you, you can probably read his emotions on his face.

"Doesn't that suit you?" you ask. Your voice is sharp again. Jacaerys has to be careful about what he says now, he knows that. He briefly organizes his thoughts before he begins to speak.

"It surprises me that you miss your nephews."

You furrow your eyebrows. "Why? Because I'm such a bad person that I can't even love my family?"

Gods he hates it when words are put in his mouths. He certainly didn't mean to imply that. His voice is a bit louder, but he tries to keep himself in check.

"No. I just didn't think." he interrupts himself because he knows that his next words will lead to an argument. "It's not important."

"Speak your mind," you urge him. Don´t allow any objections. So he gives in.

But your posture is already tense, your eyes narrowed as your gaze pierces him. Jace feels as if the air around you vibrates with your anger.

Fuck, why do you look so good when you're angry?

"I didn't think you really liked your nephews. After all, they are the children of your sister with your lover."

"How dare you accuse me of such a thing?" you shout angrily. Your voice shoots up a few octaves. You feel attacked. Your gaze flickers to the side. "Aegon is not my lover."

Jace lets out a frustrated sigh. "Stop lying," he demands. Why can't you be honest with him? You need to be honest if your marriage should work out even in the slightest.

"I'm not lying! Such accusations are treason. I should write to my father, the king, so that he cuts out your tongue."

You both know that Viserys would never do that. Not to him. Not for you. Your expression becomes blank, even the anger disappears from your eyes as you raise your walls and put on your mask.

Just the sight of your emotionless face and the fact that you have such good control over yourself, much better than he have over himself, lets him explode. The anger burns hot through his entire body. You just don't want to be honest with him. Jace feels like he's running into a wall with every one of your conversations.

"It's not treason if it's the truth."

You huff disdainfully and shake your head. "I am a virgin and I will remain one for the rest of my life." you raise your chin and look at him challengingly. Now you're just being childish.

Annoyed Jacaerys groans. "You will be my wife. The queen of the seven Kingdoms. We will share a bed. It is your duty to the realm and to me," he states. You both know that he is right. You remain stubborn.

"You will have to rape me if you want to claim your right as a husband! I will never willingly lie with a bastard like you!" you scream at him.

All the anger and frustration of the last few days with you, with himself, with the situation, rises up inside him. The hot anger in him makes him see red. He takes the few steps towards you. Startled, you step back, slamming your back against the wall. He enters your personal space. He towers over you. You look at him in shock.

"Get away from me." you try to push im away but he is stronger than you.

"You will be my wife! Completely and entirely. And if I have to rape you for it, then so let it be."

You raise your hand to slap him in the face, but he catches it. You contort your face in pain, and he immediately loosens his grip. You swallow and he notices your slight trembling. In your eyes, there is no longer hatred but fear. Immediately, Jace is overcome with guilt. What is he doing here? That's not how he is. That's not how he wants to be.

Quickly, he takes a step back, lets go of your hand, and looks at you apologetically. "I'm sorry," he says to you. His voice trembles.

Confused, you stare at him, your mouth slightly open. Your hand, which he had held in his, falls to your side.

Jace turns around and simply leaves his own chambers. He didn't want to argue with you, but somehow that's the only thing you two are good in. Screaming, arguing, cursing.

You bring out this side of him. You make him like that. He hates it. He hates you. But gods, he can´t stay away from you. This marriage will be an absolute horror for both of you.

You let Vermithor realign himself. Vermax has to dodge another crossbow bolt but gets grazed on his wing. Jace feels as if it were cutting through his own skin.

Below him, he hears the screaming soldiers who are still trying to destroy the enemy fleet. Behind him, he hears the flapping of your dragon's wings. You are getting closer quickly.

Jacaerys knows that he can't fly away from you forever. He doesn't have to. Only until reinforcements arrive.

Jace watches as Sunfyre approaches the castle courtyard in slow, circling movements. The sunlight catches in the dragon's pink wings and is reflected by the golden scales. He looks as if he were cast from pure gold. Aegon moves skillfully in the saddle. You sit in front of him, skillfully keeping yourself in the saddle. You've ridden with Aegon several times before, it's obvious. The wind blows through your blonde hair. You look like a perfect Targaryen couple. Happy.

When Sunfyre lands in the castle courtyard, Jace also steps into the yard. He has been waiting for hours for both of you to return.

Jace could puke because of his jealousy towards his uncle.

He is jealous of the beauty of his dragon.

He is jealous of his connection to you.

Aegon picked you up this morning, he showed up without any notice and took you away. Jacaerys would have preferred to stop him. But he doesn't have the right to do that.

Not yet, whispers a voice in his head. But even after your marriage, he would never tear you away from your brother. Jace is indeed jealous but not cruel.

His uncle slips off his dragon and then helps you down. His hands are on your hips as he catches you and spins you through the air. You laugh. You laugh honestly, openly, and happily.

The jealousy burns beneath Jace's skin. He has to open and close his trembling fist a few times to calm himself down.

He clears his throat loudly. Tears Aegon and you out of your world. Immediately, you both tense up. Aegon straightens up a little, makes himself taller and stands close to your side, throwing daggers with his eyes at Jace. Now he knows where you learned that kind of look.

"Can I talk to you?"he asks and ignores his uncle.

"Talk."

"Private."

"You can speak open in front of Aegon. I would have told him every word anyway."

Jacaerys takes a deep breath. He really doesn't want to discuss this in front of Aegon. But this is your punishment for him. This little humiliation. So he endures it and begins to speak.

"I have to apologize to you. Yesterday was absolutely inappropriate. I shouldn't have said such terrible things. I shouldn't have threatened you. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. Also for hurting you. I don't know what came over me. I promise you … I swear to you and before all the gods that I will never force you into my bed and I will never hurt you again like I hurt you yesterday." He means every word he says. And he hopes you believe him.

Your expression remains unchanged. You look at him for a moment. Then you nod slightly. "I accept your apology." you don't say anything more.

Silence spreads across the courtyard. Aegon is the first to move. He takes a step closer, leaning forward, his breath brushing Jace's ear as he begins to speak.

"If you touch her against her will, I will find out. I will hunt you down even if I have to fly to the ends of the earth. I will slice you open from head to toe, then I will feed you your own bowels." his voice is quiet but dark. His gaze so steely and the description so graphic that Jace has to shudder and can only nod. He is sure that Aegon means every word.

Aegon gives him a false smile before turning to you. He pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead. You whisper a few words that Jacaerys can't hear before Aegon climbs onto his dragon and disappears.

In the evening, you show up to the family dinner. But even there, you don't say a word to Jace. Instead, your attention is divided between Baela and Viserys, who is sitting on your lap.

You watch him until you can no longer see him. Then you go inside without another word.

For a second, Jace imagines what it would look like if you were sitting at the table with your child of your own. His and yours. At the thought his heart stumbles over two beats. Then he thinks about the fact that you hardly talk to him and that you certainly cannot raise a child together in peace.

Before dessert, his mother clears her throat to get the attention. "I don't think it's good for Aegon to keep visiting you," she addresses you directly.

Your smile immediately slips from your face. "What?" you ask. "But you said my siblings can visit us anytime."

"Our siblings, yes. Aegon not. It doesn't make a good impression. You know why." Rhaenyra's tone is stern.

Tears glisten behind your eyes and you struggle to maintain your composure.

The sight tugs at Jacaerys heart. His words come out of his mouth without him really thinking about it.

"That's a bad idea, Mother. He is her brother. Why separate the two? Wouldn't it just provoke everything even more, make it worse?"

Silence spreads, but then his mother shakes her head. "No. I have decided it. I will send Aegon a letter tomorrow."

His mother and you both look at him in shock.

Rhaenyra because she never thought he would stand against her in this matter.

You because you never thought he would stand by your side.

"I can't even send him letters anymore?" you snap angrily. "You read everything I write anyway."

Rhanyra's face tenses. "That's enough now. Eat your dessert."

You stand up. Your chair makes a disgusting noise as it scrapes across the stone floor. "Fuck your dessert. I'm not hungry anymore."

"More respect for your sister," Daemon suddenly interjects. You give him one of your dagger looks that Jace usually gets.

"Why should I?" you then ask with a cold, arrogant voice. "I hate you. I hate it here." you throw at Rhaenyra and run out of the room. For a second, there is dead silence in the room. Then Jacaerys surprises himself and everyone present as he stands up and follows you.

The sound makes his skin crawl and his heart ached. He hesitates for a moment. Then he walks over to you and sinks down onto the floor beside you. He doesn't touch you. He doesn't know if that would be appropriate. You sob a few more times. Then you turn your head to him. He expects you to yell at him, to curse him out. You do nothing of the sort. Instead, you wipe your tears from your cheek.

He finds you in your chambers. You are sitting on the floor in front of a wooden box full of earth. The small plants that your brother brought from Kings Landing have barely grown and their heads are hanging down.

Your face is buried in your hands and he hears you sobbing.

"Thank you for standing up for me." your voice is just a whisper. So quiet that he isn't sure if he didn´t imagined it. He nods because he doesn't really know what to say. He can't look you in the tear-streaked eyes, so he looks around your chambers. His gaze lingers on the sad flowers in the flowerbed. He notices your gaze on him.

Silence spreads. It's almost uncomfortable. Then you speak again.

"They don't grow well here. It's too cold."

Jace has no idea about gardens, flowerbeds, or flowers, so he just nods.

Vermithor has caught up with him. His mouth snaps at Vermax, but the smaller dragon manages to dodge. Glides under the neck of the larger one. Jace hears your angry scream because you missed him. He has to duck so the sharp claws of the bronze-colored one don't slice his face. Vermax flies down, but Vermithor's gigantic wingbeats disturb the air so much that his dragon is thrown off balance and stumbles. Cold fear runs through Jace. His hands grip the saddle as he struggles to keep his balance while being thrown through the air.

Suddenly, Vermithor throws his head to the side and roars loudly. You and Jace both turn around. Seasmoker and Silverscale arrive. Exactly at the right moment. Jacaerys breathes out in relief.

You don't yell at each other anymore. You hardly talk to each other anymore. But at least you no longer avoid Jace. Most of the time, he sees you in the nursery.

You sit with Viserys and Aegon every day. You play with them. You sing for them or read to them.

Jace usually sits in an armchair by the edge of the fireplace, watching his siblings and you.

Aegon idolizes you. He has a crush on you, that's for sure. Jace can't blame him for it. He can understand his little brother.

If you were to sing especially for him with your gentle voice, Jacaerys's heart would probably explode. But you don't sing for him, and he doesn't ask if you could do it.

Your songs are a bit sad now. You are sad. It makes Jace sad too to see you like this.

You don't say a single word to Rhaenyra anymore. Even if she addresses you directly, you just turn your head to her and remain silent until she says what she wants from you or simply gives up.

Jace knows that his mother is holding back Aegon's letters to you. He also knows that every time Aemond or Helaena arrives on Dragonback, they smuggle letters from Aegon for you.

He doesn't say a word to anyone. He gives you and your siblings space.

Jacaerys has an idea of how to cheer you up and he has already taken the first steps. It didn't take much to convince Baela to help him with Moondancer. You both have built a real friendship.

The conversation with Aegon and Aemond was humiliating, but he does it for you. So your brothers helped.

His mother is to blame for your unhappiness. Jacaerys feels responsible. And maybe you would give him a smile.

"Come in."

It is a warm afternoon when everything is ready.

He hesitates as he stands in front of your door. Nervously, he shifts from one foot to the other. He feels like an idiot. Still, he knocks.

Jace opens the door. You look at him in surprise. He rarely comes to your chambers anymore. He gives you space.

"I have something for you," Jace begins before he can change his mind. Skeptically, you raise an eyebrow. "Actually two things." he reaches into his cloak pocket and pulls out a letter. It was Aegon's condition for his help. Jace had to smuggle letters.

"What is that?" you ask, but you walk over to him. Your curiosity is written all over your face.

"A letter from Aegon."

Immediately, you snatch the letter from his hand. "Where did you get that from?"

"I was in King's Landing."

Surprised, you look up from the letter to him. "Why?"

"I picked something up. The second thing I got for you. Do you want to see it?"

You look from him to the letter in your hands. You think for a moment. Then you set the letter aside and nod. "Yes."

He opens the door for you, and you walk side by side through the halls of Dragonstone. He leads you to the north wing and down the stairs. The closer you get to the volcano, the warmer it becomes. You start to look around curiously. Jace knows that you are not interested enough in the castle to explore it. These corridors are unfamiliar to you. In front of an inconspicuous door, he stops.

"Are we there?" you ask skeptically.

"Yes." Jacaerys takes another deep breath and then opens the door.

"My garden," you say in shock. Your voice trembles as you look at him. Tears shimmer in your eyes. Jace's heart sinks. Did he make it worse? You don't like it.

You look past him into the room. Your eyes widen at the sight before you.

Jace had emptied the entire room. Instead, he had it filled with soil. But not the barren soil of Dragonstone. He flew all the way to King's Landing just to get the soil from there. And since he was already there, he took your flowerbeds with him. Now your flowers are blooming in this warm room. The castle's complex ventilation system has various shafts that lead through the walls to the outside. It took a while, but Jace found a room that even lets in sunlight.

But then a smile appears on your lips. It is your radiant, genuine, cheerful smile. He longed for you to give him exactly that smile. You take a step forward and hug him. For a second, he freezes. Then he carefully wraps his arms around you. Warmth spreads through his body. He could hold you like that forever. But after just a few seconds, you flinch back.

"Thank you, really Jace. Thank you. This means so much to me."

It's the first time you don't call him Jacaerys or Bastard. He never wants to hear his full name from your lips again.

Jace smiles slightly and hopes you don't notice that his feelings are currently a rollercoaster.

"Gladly. I'll leave you alone with your garden then."

"Wait."

He turns back to you, do you want him to stay here with you? That you spend time together?

"Can you show me the way up again? I wasn't paying attention and I'm bad with directions."

He tries not to be too disappointed. Jace nods and you both go back up the stairs together. This time, you focus on the path.

"You might not need to draw me a map," you admit quietly. Jace has to laugh briefly, and to his surprise and joy, you laugh with him. At least he learned something new about you today. You're bad with directions.

Addam nods to Jace, and hope begins to blossom inside him once more. Seasmoker dives into the enemy fleet below them. Jace turns Vermax away from Vermithor and seeks shelter behind Silverwing. Jace catches a glimpse of your face and realizes that you are afraid. You are not as confident in your victory anymore.

Yes, your dragon is bigger. But Silverwing is older. And they outnumber you three to one.

You should run. It would be the wisest to run now and come back with Aemond and Vhagar. Jace knows you won't run. You are far too stubborn to give up. To admit defeat. This would only end when one of you is dead.

You are sitting in the small garden that Jace had created for you. Your flowers bloom around you, and you smile at the sight of the colorful blossoms.

"Helaena and I had always sit in the garden for hours. I always plant the flowers that attract insects"

"You want to attract insects?" he makes a disgusted face. You look at him and suddenly laugh. It is not your scornful, contemptuous laughter. It is a warm, honest laugh. His heart skips a beat for a second only to then beat twice as fast again. You have never smiled at him so honestly.

"Hels is completely fixated on the little crawler. You should hear how much she can say about each insect."

Helaena has always been just a strange girl to him. She speaks in riddles and always seems to be with her thoughts somewhere else. Jace can't imagine that she talks about insects for hours.

"I miss them very much. All my siblings." Jace feels guilty again. But before he can say anything, you stand up. "Come on, let's go back up."

You start walking and he follows you like a puppy. Every day he goes down to your garden with you. Sometimes you are silent, sometimes not. You often have long, pleasant conversations or interesting discussions. Jace enjoys these moments. He admires your mind as much as your looks. He can no longer deny it. You have him wrapped around your finger. He is completely infatuated in you. And you didn't even had to try.

You walk so close beside him that your fingertips lightly brush against each other. Jacaerys hopes that in the coming days he will have enough courage to hold your hand.

"Do you want my cloak?" he then asks. You look at him from the side, nodding hesitantly. He takes off his cloak and drapes it over your shoulders. The dark red doesn't quite match the green of your dress. Nevertheless, you look beautiful. Jacaerys is sure that even dressed in rags, you still will be stunningly beautiful.

Your path leads you out of the castle over the fortress walls. Cold wind blows up from the sea towards you. You shiver slightly.

Jacaearys' hands wander to the clasp of his cloak, but he hesitates.

"It suits you well."

You roll your eyes, but a gentle smile rests on your lips. Your gaze sweeps across the sky, over the sea where Luke is currently flying a round with Arrax. Your gaze becomes sad.

"Do you miss flying?" Jace guesses.

"A little," you reply. "Sounds weird because I don't have my own dragon."

"Why don't you fly with Aemond or Helaena?" he asks. It would be the logical consequence. You shake your head slightly, he notices how your shoulders tense up a bit. Your reaction is strange, it doesn't quite fit

A nervous feeling spreads within him. He notices a tingling under his skin and a burning in his stomach. Are you only flying with Aegon? He thinks of the familiarity he observed when you were flying with Sunfyre.

He wishes for that between you and him. But Aegon is hanging over you. Would your fly with him and Vermax?

"I can fly with you on Vermax if you want." the suggestion slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. In the next second, he realizes that he is testing you right now. He curses himself for it. You owe him nothing at all. He shouldn't expect anything from you.

"Your little dragon?" you laugh "No thanks."

Maybe you meant it as a joke. Maybe you were serious. He doesn't care. He feels attacked and immediately goes on the counterattack. He doesn't think and speaks out of anger.

"At least I am worthy of a dragon."

"What did you say?" immediately, hot anger burns in your eyes. Jace's gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips for a second. Then he pulls himself together again.

He wants to apologize to you. He knows that he shouldn't have said that. It is certainly hard to be the only one of your siblings not to have a dragon bound to you. Nevertheless, he says, "You understood me."

"Bastard," you spit in his face, turn around, and storm away. But you are not fast enough. He saw the tears in your eyes. Immediately, Jace felt guilty. Damn it! He wants to apologize. But he is too stubborn so he went into the other direction. You avoid him for the rest of the day. He deserves it.

He wakes up from the loud calling. Confused, he sits up in his bed. Outside, it is still pitch dark. Are they being attacked? No. Of course not. Who would dare to attack Dragonstone? No one is that foolish. Nevertheless, the voices outside sound nervous. Jace climbs out of his bed. He puts on a shirt and his coat, then steps out into the hallway. He quickly runs to his mother's chambers. She is already coming towards him with Daemon by her side.

"Mother, what happened?"

"Come with me," she replies in a serious voice. The three walk to the castle courtyard, the black night is illuminated by the moon and torches.

His mother looks up and Jace follows her gaze. He can't see anything in the darkness at first. But then a shadow appears in front of the moon.

The bronze fury lands in the castle courtyard in front of them. The ground trembles beneath his body. Jace steps back in shock. He hears the dragon keepers calling excitedly.

He recognizes a dragon. Too big for Seasmoke. Maybe Silverwing? The shadow grows larger as it approaches.

But only when the giant body glides over the walls of Dragonstone does Jace realize that it is Vermithor. It is unusual for him to fly through the night. He lives reclusively in Dragonmont.

Vermithor throws his large head to the side and then Jace sees you. Proudly, you sit on the dragon's back.

You swing out of the saddle and slide down his wing as if you had been doing it your whole life. You land elegantly next to your dragon.

You look directly at him, the moonlight makes your eyes sparkle and catches in your hair. The large head of the Vermithor right next to you as the dragon blows hot air from its nostrils.

"Not worthy of a dragon, you said?" your smile is arrogant and proud. But as you place your hand on your dragon's nose and gently stroke it, you begin to honestly smile. Your eyes sparkle with happiness, and Jace thinks you have never been more beautiful than in this moment.

You really snuck down into the Dragonmont at night and claimed Vermithor for yourself. The Bronze Fury. Jace is impressed.

You walk past them with your head held high, back into the interior of the castle. Vermithor takes off and flies into the dark night.

"Now it is even more important that you marry her."

Jace looks at his mother, her expression is tense. His grin fades.

Daemon is the first to speak and he turns directly to Jace.

Jace is confused and looks at his mother. She gives him a smile. "We have nothing to oppose against Vhagar and Vermithor."

"What do you mean?" why do they need something to oppose thes two dragons?

"When the Hightowers try to usurp the throne." Daemon begins with an annoyed voice as if it were obvious what he was talking about.

"If..." Rhanyra interrupts, but Daemon just snorts.

"Get the Higtower whore to fall in love with you then maybe we will all survive."

Anger rises in Jace at his stepfather's words. He doesn't want Daemon or anyone else to speak so disparagingly about you. You are his fiancée. Without another word, he goes back inside.

The sun is just setting on the horizon when he spots Vermithor's large body in the sky. He follows you both with his gaze until the dragon disappears between the rocks into the Dragonmont.

The next morning, you and Vermithor are gone. Jacaerys would bet all his possessions that you flew directly to the Red Keep. He doubts for a moment if you would come back.

Now no one can force you to live here on Dragonstone.

Now that one of the largest and oldest Targaryen dragons is bound to you, no one can force you to do anything.

Silverwing rushes towards Vermithor. He hears Ulf bellow a poorly pronounced Dracarys. Silverswing opens her mouth. Vermithor right in front of her. Her flames are hot enough to harm him. But she doesn't spit flames. Instead, she closes her maw again and turns away. Ulf curses on her back and shouts at his dragon to obey him. He switches to the common tongue. But Silverwing refuses, turns away, and flies back to Dragonstone.

Your laughter echoes through the air. Jace turns to you, confidently sitting firmly in your saddle, and laugh at him.

"That worked out well with your army of bastards!" you shout over to him in a mocking voice.

Of course, Silverwing would never hurt Vermithor. She is his mate. How could they forget that?

Again, you laugh. It is a malicious, arrogant laugh that makes his blood run cold.

Jace is slowly getting a headache, and the Valyrian symbols are blurring before his eyes. He has been studying for hours. Nevertheless, the words come to his lips with difficulty. He tries again and again until his own voice sounds strange.

"Gods, your High Valyrian is even worse than Aegon's."

He flinches and turns to you. Hot anger rises within him at the comparison. He really puts in the effort, never misses even one lesson and studies as often as he can. Nevertheless, he is supposed to be wors in his mother tongue than the drunk, lazy idiot? You don't seem to notice his anger.

"Well. I just wanted to return your cloak to you."

Six days he barely saw you and didn't speak to you, and now you come and bring him his cloak? You confuse him. It drives him crazy that he can't figure you out.

Every day you flew towards the Red Keep in the morning and only returned in the evening. You enjoy every second on the back of your dragon.

"Thank you," he says. He would have expected you to turn around and disappear to Vermithor. You stand still and look around the room uncertainly. "Is there anything else?"

Jace swallows his anger, walks over to you, and takes his cloak. Your fingertips brush against each other, and Jacaerys feels as if small sparks are coursing through his fingers.

He longs to hug you.

"No," you say, your gaze flicking to the side. Skepticism spreads in Jace, he doesn't know exactly why. "I wanted to ask if you would like to fly with me, Vermithor, and Vermax? My siblings don't want to fly with me every day anymore. It's not as exciting for them as it is for me. They've had their Dragons for a while now." you chew on the inside of your cheek. Your hands are trembling slightly. A sign that you are nervous. He knows this by now.

It's the first time you're actively asking if he wants to do something with you. He has to bite his lip to avoid shouting yes immediately.

"Gladly," he replies after a brief moment. He looks at you and notices that your gaze is fixed on his lips. Heat floods through him. You look up, caught off guard, and glance to the side. Your cheeks turn red.

"Then let's go," you say quickly and turn around. He follows you quickly.

Your steps are light, you almost bounce alongside him. You radiate excitement and anticipation. Jacaerys has to laugh quietly. You gently hit him on the shoulder and grin at him.

"Don't laugh at me, I've been waiting so long for a dragon," you defend yourself. Jace raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm happy for you."

Again, that incredible smile that gives him butterflies appears.

"If you want, I can help you with your Valyrian," you then suggest.

"You think you can teach me?" he looks at you challengingly. You roll your eyes.

"If I can teach that drunk, lazy idiot Aegon, then I can definitely teach you."

"That would be very nice, yes please."

You arrive at the bottom of Dragonstone. Jacaerys whistles once loudly and shortly after hears Vermax's wingbeats. His dragon lands in front of him. Jace places his hand on his nose and presses his forehead against his head. A small greeting ritual.

Then it looks like as the whole mountain is moving. Vermithor’s massive body emerges from the shadows. His head is as big as Vermax's entire body. Nevertheless, the younger dragon remains calm. He knows that he is not in any danger.

You place your hand on Vermithor's nose.

"I still have to thank you."

"For what?"

"If you hadn't made me angry, I would never have dared to claim Vermithor." you smile sincerely as you climb onto the back of your dragon.

"Making you angry is one of my special talents, Princess."

It slips out. He doesn't mean it contemptuously or even as your title. It's a pet name. He realizes this as the word leaves his lips. He is briefly afraid that you will get angry. Instead, your cheeks turn red and you suddenly seem very interested in the reins.

Jace starts moving and climbs onto his dragon as well. Vermax takes to the skies. Adrenaline flows through his body as he flies through the air on the dragon's back. He hears your laughter behind him. Vermithor's great wings cast a shadow over Jace and Vermax for a moment before you fly to the side.

In that moment, Jace is sure that you both can be happy together.

You quickly fall into a routine together. In the morning you visit your garden, then go for a ride on dragonback. In the afternoon or evening you teach him Valyrian. Either in your chambers or in his. Jace enjoys every second with you.

Seasmoke fires his flames at the feet, while Jacaerys brings Vermax back into attack position. He breathes flames at Vermithor. You duck away. The huge beast turns back towards Vermax. Jace takes a deep breath. He is tossed back and forth in the saddle as Vermax suddenly dives down. But Vermithor is too big. His claws reach for Vermax. The little dragon still tries to dodge, but the claws tear a wing. Jace flees and turns around to have you back in his line of sight.

Vermax flies right in front of Vermithor's mouth. He is close enough that the flames will swallow him. But there is no heat, no fire, nothing. You don't give the orders. You hesitate.

A warmth spreads in Jacaerys; maybe there is still hope? Maybe he can convince you to switch to his side.

But in the next moment, your face becomes rigid again. You shake yourself lightly as if you need to wake up. Vermax loses some speed. Its difficult for him to fly with the injured wing.

Jace steers his dragon below Vermithor. The older dragon whips its head around. Snaps at Vermax but misses.

You call out a valyrian command. Vermithor's massive body turns with a powerful movement sideways and downward as he chase Vermax.

It has been raining all day. Jacaerys had argued with Luke in the morning. Viserys got on his nerves. His entire morning was shit.

Then his mother also sends for him. Aegon is feeling a bit ill the, Jace has to bring Stormcloud to him. So he collects the hatchling from the dragon keepers and carries it on a pillow to the nursery. He would rather find you and spend time with you than carry around his little brother's Dragon.

Jace falls back and sits next to his brother in front of the fire. He looks up at you and Balea. His stepsister is struggling to suppress her giggles. You glance at her before turning to him.

When he opens the door, he is greeted by a relaxed atmosphere. The fire in the fireplace is burning, Viserys is playing on the carpet. Aegon sits in front of the fireplace with a blanket around his shoulders.

You and Baela are sitting in comfortable armchairs. In your hands, embroideries. His little brother is leaning against your leg. As he enters the room, you all look at him.

You quickly look away again, and Baela starts to giggle softly. This reaction briefly confuses him.

"Stormcloud," calls Aegon, stretching his hands out towards his little dragon. Jace goes to him and carefully places the dragon in his arms. The hatchling lets out a satisfied hum.

"How are you today, Jace?" you ask deliberately lighthearted.

"Good. How are you?" he asks, confused. Since when do you ask each other how you are? At least not like that.

"I´m good."

He looks at you closely. Your behavior confuses him. Just like Baleas. Since when does she giggle so foolishly?

His gaze stops on your neck. Your sun necklace is not there. He has never seen you without it. You took it off. It satisfies something deep inside him. He feels triumphant even though he hasn't won anything yet. Nevertheless, his heart beats faster.

The water is coming closer quickly. The next moment, bolts from scorpions and crossbows are raining down on you. Jace doesn't even know if they are his men or the Greens'. It doesn't matter.

One of the scorpion bolts narrowly misses Vermax's neck. The next moment Jace hears a deep, rumbling dragon scream that goes right into his bones. Something hot, wet drips into neck and on his shoulders.

Jace turns his head. The bolt has hit Vermithor in the stomach. The wound is big. But not big or deep enough to kill the dragon.

He hears your angry scream and the next moment the bronze Fury is spitting fire. You're not aiming anywhere, it's just an expression of your anger. When you're angry, your beast unleashes all seven hells for you.

"That's Aegon's favorite flower too." you swallow a few times.

"I like this one." he points to a flower with a large, purple blossom. It gives off a gentle scent. You two sit in your garden together. Your flowers all grew good down here.

Your smile slips a little and your eyes become sad.

You still miss Aegon. He notices it. Sometimes your gaze drifts into the distance. He noticed that letters in his uncle's handwriting are lying next to your pillow. He knows he shouldn't have looked, but he went closer. The paper was covered in tear stains. Despite his curiosity, his eyes didn't read the words. It's really none of his business.

Jacaerys expected jealousy or anger to rise up in him. It doesn't.

Instead, it makes him sad to see you so sad. It's his mother's fault.

"Do you love him?" the words slip out before he can stop them.

"Of course I love him. He is my brother."

"I don't mean if you love him that way."

You clench your jaw. You look to the side. Your nod is so gentle that Jace almost missed it. "Yes I loved him."

He has to know now. He gathers all his courage and reaches for your hand. You turn your head to him, looking at him in surprise. Nevertheless, you don't pull your hand away.

"Can you be honest this one time? Please. I will never mention it again. No one will find out."

You study his face before you nod again. "Go ahead and ask."

"Did you share a bed with him?"

"No." you answer, not avoiding his gaze, and he believes you. This time he really believes you. You look at him openly and continue speaking. "We're not stupid, Jacaerys. We always knew that we couldn't do that. Gods,to be honest it was hard. We kissed but never more. It's over since I came here."

Your sudden unsolicited openness surprises him, but he is grateful. He wants to return the favor. You were honest about your past. Now it's his turn.

"I kissed Baela. I had a cush on her when I was younger. There was something between us."

Your lips curl into a slight smile. He didn't expect that. More likely that you would get angry after all his accusations about you and Aegon.

You turn so that you are now facing him. You briefly squeeze his hand.

"Thank you for telling me," you reply.

"You're not surprised?"

You briefly bite your lip. This small gesture draws his gaze in, and for a brief moment, Jace wants to lean forward and place his lips on yours. The need disappears as quickly as it came. As you continue speaking, your voice sounds slightly amused.

"I already knew it. She told me."

That's the last thing Jacaerys expected. "Did she?" he thinks of the awkward, inexperienced kisses his thirteen-year-old self exchanged with Beala and cringes for himself. He notices his cheeks turning slightly red. "What did she say?" he asks, unsure if he wants to hear the answer. You laugh warmly. At that tone, his heart skips a beat.

"Not much. Just that you're quite good."

He hadn't expected that either. Your gentle tone and warm smile give him courage.

"You can judge for yourself at any time."

You roll your eyes, but there's still a smile on your lips. For a moment, you look back at him and then to the side.

"Maybe I'll do that someday."

The sheer force with which Vermithor crashes into Vermax squeezes all the air out of his lungs. The claws of your beast ram into Vermax's soft flesh. His dragon lets out a painfull scream. The sound makes Jacaerys's eardrums almost burst. His heart breaks and pain floods through him.

The bolt of a crossbow hits him. Pain courses through his body. Hot blood flows from the wound. The brief moment of shock is enough for you and Vermithor to attack once more.

Tears well up in his eyes. Vermithor hurls Vermax and him through the air. He clings to the saddle. His muscles ache. Suddenly, an unknown coldness and deep pain fill Jace. Vermax is dead. He knows it even before he sees Vermithor's bloodstained claws. Then the dragon lets go.

Vermax is thrown uncontrollably in circles towards the ground. Jace doesn't even have enough time to take a deep breath before they hit the water. Vermax's body sinks like a stone. Jacaery's clothes soak up the cold water. He is being pulled down. But he manages to break free from Vermax to swim back to the surface once more. He gasps for air. His heavy clothes want to pull him down again. The icy water feels like needles. is this how his little brother feel shortly before his death? Did Luke die the same way? Or did Vhagar tear him apart with her razor-sharp teeth before he fell into the water?

Jace notices how he is getting weaker and weaker. He loses feeling in his arms and legs. Darkness spreads at the edge of his field of vision as unconsciousness pulls at him. He has failed.

A large shadow covers the sky above him. Vermithor circles just a few meters above the water's surface. You sit on his saddle and look down into the water. Your gaze searching. And then you see him. Your eyes meet.

Since you arrived in King's Landing, you've been different. The small gestures between you that made his heart race have disappeared immediately. You no longer hold his hand. You no longer adjust his cloak for him. You no longer point to one of the flowers near you and explain to him what kind it is and how to best cultivate it.

During the discussion about the succession of Driftmark, you did not stand by his side but next to your mother.

It annoys him terribly. It gives him the feeling that you are ashamed of him. For the fact that you like him.

Rhaenyra has emphasized for days that Jace is not allowed to argue with you as long as you are in King's Landing. Alicent would seize this opportunity immediately, break off the engagement, and bring you back to the Red Keep.

It already bothers his mother that you insisted on staying another week to attend the feast for Alicent's name day. She didn't have a convincing argument to deny you. Especially because Vermithor stood behind you the entire time during the discussion.

The dinner with the king was a huge disaster. The worst thing for him was that you laughed as your brothers' insult him and his brothers.

Jacaerys swallows his anger at your behavior and does the only thing he is sure will prevent you from arguing. He completely ignores you and avoids you.

That's why he doesn't even realize how angry this makes you.

Jace hand still hurts from the blow he dealt Aemond, just like his ankle. When his uncle pushed him, he twisted his ankle. The anger is still boiling.

Without knocking, you storm into his room. He flinches in surprise and looks at you. You are still dressed in your festive clothes, your hair tied back in strict braids. The anger you radiate makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

"How can you humiliate me like this?" you scream at him. He is on his feet before your words have fully echoed in the room. A hot rage courses through him. How can he hummiliate you? You are the one who turned away from him and is ashamed of him. You are the one who laughed at him today.

"What did you say?" he asks. You approach him. Your eyes are sparking with anger. Jace has to swallow at the sight. You stand just a few steps in front of him, but the tone of your voice remains unchanged as you start shouting again.

"You ignore me all evening and then you dance with my sister? In front of everyone! You pushed me aside. How could you do that?"

"You are jealous," he guesses and is surprised by it, and also by the fact that it pleases him. Did he want that? Was this his plan?Did he want to make you jealous? Did he wanted to get your attention this way? He doesn't really know himself.

"Nonsense." you shout angrily, but your gaze flickers to the side, just like always when you lie. Jace knows you by now. Even though you did everything to prevent him from doing so. You lowered your walls and let him in. You can't undo that now.

"You are jealous." this time he is sure.

"Rot in the seventh hell," you scream angrily. He knows that you only react so extremely when you are insecure. You whirl around and want to run out of the room, but Jace grabs your wrist, pulls you back, and turns you back to him.

You part breathlessly. His eyes are on your beautiful face. Your eyes are sparkling, your cheeks are slightly red and you are gasping for breath. Your eyes find his and your lips creep onto your face. It's a gentle, genuine smile. He can't help but smile too. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, caresses the soft skin.

For a second, you just look into each other's eyes. His gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. He doesn't know who leaned in first, but your lips are already crashing together before he can form a clear

thought. A shiver runs down his spine at the feeling of your lips on his. Your hand buries itself in his dark curls. Jace wraps his arms around your slim body, pulling you closer to him. Your lips part slightly and he slides his tongue into your mouth. Hot desire arises within him. He can’t get enough of the feeling of your lips on his. His heart is racing so fast that he's afraid it's going to jump out of his chest. You press yourself closer to him.

He rests his forehead against yours. You lean into his touch, lean slightly forward, and kiss him once more. This time gently, just for a brief moment, like a test. Immediately, his whole body tingles again.

"Maybe I was a little jealous," you whisper. Your gaze shifts from his eyes to his lips, the redness of your cheeks intensifying. But you make no move to free yourself from his arms.

"Why?" he whispers just as quietly. This moment is terribly intimate. Jace enjoys every second he can hold you in his arms. He has longed for this. To be able to hold you. Now he feels like everything is falling into place. Now that he can hold you in his arms. He is surprised by the sudden intensity of his feelings. Maybe because he has suppressed them for a long time.

"I... maybe... maybe I don't find you as terrible as I always pretend to." you admit. Jace has to suppress a laugh.

"Is that so?" he asks. He wished you would say the words. But he knows that you won't do it. He also knows that he can't say it now. Maybe someday, but not now.

You nod. Suddenly, you are shy. He never would have thought that you could be shy. "I don't know, I can't quite understand what I'm feeling," you admit openly.

"It's okay," he replies, his thumb stroking your cheek as his other hand searches for yours. You intertwine your fingers together. Jace looks down he can get used to the sight of your hand in his and the feeling of your soft skin against his."We have time."

"Time?" you ask.

"Yes, to find out what we feel."

You smile again and search for his gaze. Your eyes sparkle.

"When we are back on Dragonstone. Then we can find out what it is between us. We can figure it out. Together." he suggests.

"Yes, I like this idea." you say. He closes his eyes for a moment, then kisses your forehead and takes a step back. Your hands however remain intertwined. Your grip tightens a little.

Hope begins to blossom in Jace. Hope that his future and his marriage won't be as dreadful as he feared. Maybe the unimaginable can come true and you can be happy together. And reunite your broken family.

You sigh but your smile remains. You also take a step back, releasing your hand from his. Immediately, he wants to hold you in his arms again. But he holds himself back. This is not the right place. It's not the right time.

Nervously you giggle and look around, then back to him. "I should go. Not that rumors would start. My mother would be furious."

Jace laughs softly. "Yes. See you tomorrow?"

You nod. "I'll come with you to the Dragon Pit to say goodbye," you say. "And after Mother's name day, I will return to Dragonstone."

Anticipation spreads within Jace. He nods. A strange mix of hope, uncertainty, and affection spreads between you. You give him another one of your beautiful smiles, lean forward, and kiss his cheek. Then you turn around and leave his chambers with red cheeks and a smile.

Neither Jacaerys nor you know that your lives will fundamentally change within the next few days and that you will never set foot on Dragonstone's soil again.

Your face is the last thing he sees before the sea swallows him. And he saw the tears on your cheeks.

Maybe you really loved him. He loved you. It didn't make a difference. It is his last thought before the darkness swallows him forever.

a/n: tbh writing this made me sad��� I wanted to give them a happy ending so bad but I couldn´t

[sadplaguedoctor]

grief

⤷ silco x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been taking silco’s death rather hard and found yourself doing almost anything to remember him, even if that means masturbating in his chair.

tags: solo masturbation, referenced major character death, scent kink, grief, angst, hurt no comfort, you are going slightly mad

It’s been two months. Two whole months since Silco had gone and died and left you here alone to fend for yourself— something you had gotten used to not having to do after so many years of being with him.

His office was quieter than before, and cold. So very cold. You no longer had the option of pushing yourself up next to him despite his grumbles about “distraction” and “important business”. You no longer felt his arms wrapped around your body late at night. The rise and fall of his chest was now forgotten.

Though, you were determined to keep him alive in any way you could. You slept in his bed, wore some old jewelry of his, wrapped yourself up in the clothes he had gifted you time and time again. Even sprayed yourself with his cologne— just a bit, making sure to get it mostly on his clothes that were saved for bedtime.

His pillows still faintly smelled of him. The amount of times you had turned your head to shove your nose into the fabric all while burying your fingers within yourself was lost to you.

Sometimes, you would cry. Cry because your fingers weren’t his and would never be his again. They didn’t reach the areas that he touched with so much grace, nor were they as rough. It was a reminder of the empty husk he had left you to wallow in.

“I still feel your presence,” you spoke quietly, talking to a figment of the past as you dragged your fingertips across Silco’s desk. “I still see you. In the dark, in our bed.”

There was no doubt that your sanity had been slipping ever since the incident. You would hear his voice speaking to you and guiding you throughout your day. Sometimes, you’d see him duck behind alleys or stand silently in the corner of his bedroom. You often found yourself fighting the urge to follow these hallucinations, but then with one simple blink, he disappeared.

“Jinx tells me I’m going crazy, but I see it in her eyes. She feels the same. We all do.”

It broke you to see the distant look in Jinx’s eyes when she thought no one was looking— but it hurt even more to see the rabid, pure unadulterated fury in them. Sure, you both got to see and feel different versions of Silco, but the pain of loosing him was similar. It was sorrow, it was dejection, it was rage.

But, truly, what good did crying do? It wouldn’t bring him back. No matter how many times you screamed into his pillow, begging for one little sign that he was still watching over you. You remained cold.

His chair still felt the same against your body, the softness of the plush leather stuck to your skin the same way it used to. It kept you warm during nights spent staring off into space, reminiscing on old memories you could never experience again.

Though, you were weak. You could only spend so much time inhaling his scent without becoming eager and internally frustrated.

One arm rest dug into your back as your legs draped over the other— head turned so your nose could press against the back of the chair, taking in as much of his lingering scent as you could without having to gasp for air.

Jeans pooled at your ankles and your legs shook, fingers hurriedly pumping in and out of your cunt while you wriggled and writhed on the leather.

“You were always so desperate with me. I must say, I’m quite pleased to see that spark never dulled.”

You could hear him. His voice echoed in your mind like his lips hovered by your ear, taunting you.

“Damn you,” you whispered, closing your mouth quickly after to muffle any sounds of pleasure that dared to escape you. “Damn you for leaving me.”

A jolt shot through your body and your thighs clenched tightly around your wrist, head thrown back as you choked on your own breath. Your movements were feral, unhinged and like he said, desperate. So were the tears that cascaded down your cheeks, pooling at the corners of your lips which began to part and make way for broken sobs and groans.

When you came, you kept your fingers tucked inside you— not ready to get rid of that stretch, that sensation of being full and his. Silco’s name bubbled up in your throat and died on your tongue, the taste sour and grey.

“Good girl,” he whispered once more, a light pressure pushing against your temple. You clung to that. Clung to the phantom kiss that would fuel your desires and delusions for days to come.

He was gone, you knew that. But the figure that vanished the moment you opened your eyes, promised otherwise.

Even in death, he haunted you.

i wrote this the very moment i woke up this morning and posted it an hour after. this wasn’t the first and will not be the last time i wake up to the thought of silco.

[miriadalia]

Alright so, by now in part 2 we have:

People flying to the other side of the globe faster than Flash and with no jetlag consequences apparently 🙄

Robby being SA but everyone treating this as some kind of infidelity or fling (even him, wtf??)

Demetri being unfaithful to his girlfriend (though I was not exactly surprised by this 🙄) Yasmine you deserve better gurl...

Spanish team representation being SO WRONG. And I know because I'm Spanish: we don't say "Ándale" like they were saying when hyping Diego before his fight. That's a Mexican word 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ and Maria's surname should have been Álvarez and not Àlvarez, we don't have this accent (`) in Spanish. Please it's really not that difficult to make accurate representations... Especially because THEY WENT TO FREAKING SPAIN!!! Study a little bit for goodness sake!

Korean Cobra Kais being 2D bad guys that apparently don't have any more personality than being violent and ruining everything for Miyagi Do. Seems like only Americans are allowed to have a complex backstory and profound motivations to win. Like: even Axel got the "abused athlete" foreshadow... and he literally had 2 lines of dialogue.

Speaking of Axel, my guy really fell head over heels for Sam in 2 seconds like... That is some other level of crushing here 😳 creepy...

And speaking of the Korean team: wasn't Kwon like the outcast rebel of his class? Now why is everyone suddenly super friendly with him?? Especially Yoon! What happened? Because I understand they respect him now as he earned his place as captain (violently ofc). But they were giggling all over the place wtf...

Tory's mindset and trauma after her mother's death being treated SO LIGHTLY that I want to scream 😖😖. Do you think she would really be in the right headspace to argue about "stealing my boyfriend, bitch"?? Haven't you ever lost a loved one?? I have, and let me tell you: you don't have the heart to suffer for anything else than your loss... Especially not after just one or two weeks.

And then she even had to watch a teammate fucking DIE right before her eyes. Thank you writers for another trauma🤮🤮

And of course, we arrive to Kwon's death... Listen, I don't have anything else to comment rather than: yes, some people are such psychopaths that can't even see how their actions may result in hurting themselves, and they decided to make Kwon a lost cause (I get it, would have preferred some backstory scenes of him to fully understand it, but I get it).

What I don't understand and really gets on my nerves is how ridiculously stupid the reason of the brawl was in the first place. Are you telling me there was not a single sensei apart from Daniel, Johnny and Chozen that would have stopped the fight?? They were like: fuck, yeah, let's allow these kids to fight until they get seriously injured. Let them run up the stairs and kick each other as if they were made of rubber and they wouldn't die if they fall.........

I know that in the professional sports' world there's so much competition and substance use. And that was realistic. But it's teens we are talking about. Really anyone had a good sensei??? Anyone?

Because if that's how it is then I don't see how Cobra Kai might end in part 3 other than banning karate in every country.

That's all for now...

I was really enjoying the season until the end of episode 7 or something...

I hate it when the shock factor wins over the emotional and coherent plot...

That "strategy" has ruined so many good series, and now I don't really feel like watching part 3 😔

[lovelynicho]

Hii!! I’m feeling angsty rn 😞

Andteam’s reaction when you walk away crying/cry or flinching in an argument you get the idea?? HSHSH hopefully it won’t be too hard to write and tyyy. Love your works mwaps!! 🫶🫶

&team reaction - to you crying/flinching in an argument

Pairing: bf!&team x gn!reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: one curse word in EJ's; mention of abusive relationship in Yuma's; not proofread

Notes: it's my first time writing something as angsty as this so I hope you like it; english is not my first language I apologize for any mistakes; and I'm sorry for not posting for so long, I didn't have the motivation to write😔

Masterlist

K

He's very strong, therefore he can be really scary at times. Especially when arguing. You hate arguing with him, so you usually try to leave when it gets a little out of hand, so both of you can calm down alone. Him on the other hand, although he hates arguing too, is a firm believer that everything needs to be discussed right then and there. This difference between you can cause some problems. Once when you were in a big argument with him, you decided that it should be ended, told him that you can't deal with that right now and you're going to your room to calm down a little, alone. But he didn't want to let it go, so he grabbed your wrist and continued yelling his problems at you. But his grip was too strong, it was painful. You looked at him, tears threatening to fall from your eyes "Yudai, it hurts" you said quietly. He looked at his hand and realisation hit him. He let go of your wrist, looked at you for a few seconds before saying "I'm sorry". Slowly and softly wrapped his arms around you and he kept repeating those words a million times: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry I'm sorry...."

Fuma

Although he is the most gentlemanly gentleman to ever step foot on Earth, he is incredibly strong and has a really deep voice. These two things can make him seem rather scary when you guys are in a serious fight. One day a little fight went a little too far. Both of you were just tired, working more than you should so even a little misunderstanding can turn into fighting. You two were just yelling at each other. At this point you couldn't even tell why you started to fight you just had to let the tension out. But when Fuma made a sudden move in your direction you screamed and backed until your back hit the wall. You were just looking at each other. His eyes were in pain, more like worried actually. He slowly approached you and when you didn't scare away he hugged you, his lips next to your ears whispering. "I could never hurt you. I love you so much, I would never want you to be in pain"

Nicholas

Although Nicholas is a sweetheart, I think we can all agree that from the outside he looks rather intimidating, even scary at times. And this feature of his does not do any good when the two of you are fighting. He also seems like the type to lose his temper pretty easily which is also bad for the situation. Once you had a really big fight. Both of you probably knew that you could settle it calmly but you built up so much stress at work and from life itself that you just had to let it out and unfortunately you chose to let it out on each other. You were at fault too, you said something really hurtful to Nicholas and he felt like he will explode if he doesn't release the tension. So out of anger he hit the wall closest to him. But that was right in fron of you and for a second you thought that he aimed at you. So you closed your eyes and just waited while tears were falling from your eyes. But instead the punch you expected you only felt warm arms wrapping around you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you..... I could never hurt you" he whispered. Then you just stayed there for a while, crying everything out in his comforting arms.

EJ

Our leader is such a sweet guy. Even though he's tall and quite strong you just need one look at his boba eyes and you already feel safe. His soft speaking nature also adds to the feeling of comfort he gives to not just you, but everyone around him. But as the leader he has lots of duties and also has to take care of not less than eight people. Believe me when I say, sometimes man is tired. And that day when he went over to spend time with you he was especially tired and stressed from work, he just didn't want to cancel the date because he hasn't seen you for what felt like forever. But when he got to you and you kept just asking him about his day and what they have been up to nowadays eventough he said he doesn't want to talk about work, he had enough. "Why can't you just shut up for a second? I cane over to have a calm evening but you just keep bothering me, I'm literally just wasting my time with you now" he yelled. His words shot straight to your heart. You managed to mutter a small 'sorry' and at least start walking away to your room before the tears started falling down your cheeks but he heard your sniffles. And standing there he knew, he fucked up.

Yuma

He probably wouldn't have scared you like that if it wasn't for your past. You had an abusive relationship before you met him. Your ex used to beat you up and it was hard for you to manage to get away from him. But with Yuma it was different. He was the nicest man you've ever met and the thought of him hurting you never entered your mind. But when you were having a rather bad fight every memory of your ex that layed in the back of your mind suddenly came back. That's the reason why when he lifted his hand as he was aggressively explaining something to you in the heat of the argument you instantly put your hands infront of your face as protection. You weren't scared of Yuma, it was more like an instinct, but he didn't know that. "I didn't mean to scare you" he muttered, much softer now than before "I'm so sorry y/n". "No, it's not your fault" you said as you stepped closer to him to assure him that you really weren't scared at all "it was just an instinct because of my ex. It really has nothing to do with you. I'm sorry" and with that you hugged him tightly. But he still whispered in your ears hoping to comfort you "don't ever apologise for something like this. It's not your fault love"

Jo

He's a sweetheart. I don't think he could ever even talk loud let alone make you cry. So if you cry in an argument then both of you cry, there's no other option. When you ended up in a bad argument you just threw every word against each other even if you didn't mean it. You hated it. Seeing him mad, being mad at him. You felt tears in your eyes, slowly rolling down your cheeks. When he saw that he couldn't say another word, instead he did exactly what you did, salty drops of water running from his eyes. You just looked at each other. No talk. Words weren't needed. Those things made you cry. You ended up cuddling on the couch crying out everything silently.

Harua

Usually Harua is a very soft person. I mean you can already tell it from his cute almost boyish looks. However when he's in a fight he can be surprisingly strong minded. You learned that in your first serious fight with him. He stood very firmly by his point believing he was right, when in reality he wasn't. At first you tried to convince him calmly but after a while you just had enough and instead of keep trying to solve the problem in a calm way you started yelling at him. As an answer he also raised his voice and even gesticulated to prove his point but the moves of his hands were huge and firm you've never seen him raise his hand this strongly before so as an instinct you flinched. And that's when he realised that he went too far. "I'm so so so so so sorry" he said already crying with his hands infront of his mouth. "I don't want to hurt you I swear" he kept going on about that. "It's okay I just over reacted" you answered as you softly wrapped your hands around his waist and pulled him into your chest.

Taki

This guy is always full of jokes and pranks. He just sometimes forgets to think about what if the given joke or prank is not funny but actually hurtful to someone. One day when you were at the dorm, this exact scenario happened. Taki just intended to make a joke but didn't consider that it was actually pretty hurtful to you. At first you just stayed silent because you didn't want to talk about how wath he said made you feel so bad. But when he noticed that you became more silent than before he tried to make you talk with another joke which was a huge mistake. You flipped out yelling at him about how hurtful his joke felt for you personally and that he should have considered your feelings. But his reaction to that was just him saying "relax, it was just a joke, if you can't take that, say that, and I won't tell it anymore" and that made you angrier. "Taki it's not that I can't take a joke it's just that your joke was not funny, it only made me feel bad and I can't even look at you right now" you yelled as tears started to roll down your cheeks. And with that you just left the dorm. In shock, he just sat down on the ground trying to figure out what to do.

Maki

Maki is a nice guy, everybody and their mother knows that. But sometimes even he can have bad days. Unfortunately you decided to come over unannounced to the dorm on one of those days when he would just rather be alone. When you arrived of course he was still happy for you, but in contrast to his, your day has been so good that you kept rambling. After some time you asked about his day and even after him saying that he would rather not talk about that now you asked one more time if he was sure and that was it for him. He almost started to yell at you infront of everyone in the living room but thankfully he still had the manners to keep these things privately. So he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his room, shut his door as strong as he could and he started yelling at you only noticing minutes later that you were so scared from his sudden change of moods that you backed away from him and tears were built up in your eyes. When he realised how bad the situation was he decided not to talk anymore. Just went up to you and wrapped you in a tight, warm, comforting hug. A hug that lasted maybe five minutes, maybe ten minutes, maybe half an hour. You didn't know and you couldn't care less when you had each other so close.

[jojotichakorn]

i do truly think there are a million great things about online friendships but i will admit that your best friend waking up one day and deciding they are just never going to respond to your messages again, thus ending the relationship with no closure, is a hell of a fucking downside

[elytrafemme]

i have already envisioned 3 different arguments i might have with my brother when he comes to our house so i think the strategy is going to be locking my bedroom door, blaring out snitches and talkers get stitches and walkers by fall out boy on loop, and speedrunning pokemon black

[tender-rosiey]

“GOOD! NOW PUNCH HIS FACE!”

— when your baby and gojo, geto, nanami, toji, and sukuna get protective over you (f!reader)

a/n: I am alive!! as an apology here is a multi-character post 🙏 btw in toji's part, you're megumi's mom

GOJO SATORU:

two peas in a pod, twins, copies: these are all things people have called your husband and son.

honestly, they’re not wrong. your son has his father’s looks—satoru swears he has your nose and ears but anyway—and he carries the same protectiveness and love he holds for you, if not amplified.

you can’t count on one hand the amount of times the house has been turned upside down because of their fights for a cuddle session with you.

of course, you have always tried suggesting them simply sharing you, but these problem children would rather eat raw zucchini than ever share the cuddle time.

so while your son is barely six, you can still count on him to team up with satoru against anyone who wrongs you in anyway like what’s happening right now for example.

you’re out with your lovely family to buy some groceries, and since they both were whining about getting some sweets, you allowed them to go and snatch a couple from the next aisle.

on the other hand, you stayed to look for another type of detergent to clean the floor—especially since satoru got this new type of paint for s/n and it’s quite an endeavor to remove it with a regular detergent.

however, being in the cleaning supplies section never guaranteed the lack of filthy men who can’t take no for an answer. this one man approaches you, smug grin on his face as he leans on the wall, “what’s a pretty lady like you doing alone?”

“buying groceries like a normal person; now please leave me alone.”

he quickly frowns, “don’t be so stingy doll,” his hand extends towards your arm, “I can show you a good time; I promise—“

the man is swiftly smacked with an egg on his face, and he is left with the egg dripping down his face, “what’s your wrong with your kid, man?!” he yells at the person behind you.

he then grumbles, “ruined a potential good night.”

“my kid was absolutely right in what he did,” you hear satoru’s voice. you then feel a hand on your shoulder, and you’re pulled into a chest you’re all too familiar with, “’toru—“

your husband shoots a small smile your way, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, before looking at his son, “that last throw was very good, s/n! throw another one but just below his stomach."

a cheshire cat-like grin is plastered on your husband’s face as s/n prepares to launch another egg at the man.

there is a very evident scowl on your son’s face as he yells, “don’t you ever bother mama again, you stinky bum crumb!”

the man gasps and tries to make a run for it, but your son wouldn’t be the son of gojo satoru if he doesn’t manage to land the hit exactly where he wants.

the man quickly crumbles to the ground screaming and alerting literally everyone in the store.

so satoru picks both you and s/n and makes a run for it.

you hold tightly onto him, “wait, ‘toru, the groceries!”

“we can always order! saving my princess and son is more important!”

your son grumbles, “but I want to hit the rude man!”

“me too, champ, but—“ satoru sweat-drops and glances behind him, “I doubt the angry security guards would like that!”

GETO SUGURU:

your twin girls are one of the sassiest to exist.

in a way, they take after their father who is also pretty sassy but very low-key.

the sass of all three combined is terrible to be the victim of. luckily for you, they don’t dare direct their triple ray towards you, especially—in any argument—at least one will try to win you over.

if it’s suguru trying to stay on your good side, then he is hugging you from behind, pressing feather-like kisses on your shoulder and whispering about how sweet you are. if it’s the girls, then they cling to your legs and keep yelling about how much they love you.

so it is safe to say that you have a small squad to protect you from any potential “danger”.

“oh my, dear shouldn’t you focus on refining yourself a bit more?” you hear a woman say beside you.

you turn towards her, offended, “excuse me?”

“I mean,” her eyes scan you, disapprovingly, “you look average at best, and with that you won’t be able to find yourself a husband, let alone have children.”

you’re still processing her audacity as she continues, “but then again, it’s probably for the better that you don’t have children; you can barely take care of yourself.”

“can I help you?” your husband says as he approaches the woman.

she smiles condescendingly before chuckling, “I was simply telling this lady to take care of herself more; she hardly looks presentable.”

geto’s smiles tenses up as he is about to give the woman a calm peace of his mind, but his daughters beat him to it.

your older twin stands in front of the woman, scanning her with pure disgust in her eyes.

she grimaces and voices out her thoughts, “you are like a crunchy lizard.”

the woman gasps, “how dare you—!”

you cut off the woman, curious about your daughter’s conclusion, “why a crunchy lizard, sweetheart?”

your daughter looks at you with a small frown, shaking her head, “a crunchy lizard is an ugly sad lizard.”

a snort escapes your husband, and you’re barely able to contain your smile.

your other daughter follows up, looking at her twin sister, “the lady looks like that one green thingy we saw yesterday,” she taps her little foot, trying to remember and beams at the woman, “shrek! you look like shrek!”

then they both glare at her, frowning, “you’re a monkey!”

your husband doesn’t let it go as he deals the final—subtle—blow, “come on now girls; we shouldn’t bully the lady with the mcdonald’s like hairline anymore.”

it seems like the woman can’t take it anymore as she starts sobbing and running to the hills.

a moment of silence is shared across the four of you, before you carry both of your girls in your arms and start tickling them, “I don’t know whether to be proud of you or scold you, little evil girls!”

they squeal, trying to escape your hold and calling for their father.

geto chuckles and wraps his arms around the three of you, “let them have it for tonight, y/n,” he ruffles their hair, “they were brave and defended their mom, after all.”

“yeah, papa is right!”

“yes mama, please!”

you pout then smirk at geto, “well I don’t mind, and since papa is also very proud of you girls, he will buy any toy that you guys want today!”

the color drains from your husband’s face, and he watches motionlessly as his girls latch onto him, screaming about the toys they want.

you giggle at his expression and blow him a kiss. he reluctantly blows you one back, while the girls excitedly pull him towards the toy store.

NANAMI KENTO:

you and your husband were blessed with the sweetest girl as your daughter, and she was just recently joined by another sweet girl.

you can never forget the happiness on your daughter’s face when she saw her baby sister.

it also seems that no matter how many times you give birth, your husband can’t help but get emotional when he holds your baby. his hands are forever delicate as he cradles her to his chest.

you remember what he said during the birth of your first daughter.

“I feel like a piece of heaven has been plucked and placed in my arms.”

the way he always goes soft for the three of you is honestly adorable.

today, you were going on an outing with your—now 6 months old—baby and your older daughter who is almost six.

your husband never brags about his muscular form, but he never misses a chance to carry the baby or the baby supplies.

you have offered to at least carry the bag, but he always refuses, stating that ‘you already carried the baby for nine entire months in your belly; this is the least I can do.’

so yeah, sometimes you wish to smooch your husband till forever, but that’s not the point.

you’re walking hand in hand with your daughter as she sings her favorite song. you hear someone click their tongue, so you look to the side and lock eyes with an old lady. she takes the opportunity and approaches you.

“you should be ashamed of yourself!” she yells pointing at you, “your husband shouldn’t be carrying the baby supplies nor the baby itself for the matter,” she scowls, “that’s your job!”

“with all due respect ma’am, but that isn’t her job, and taking care of the baby should be something we are both responsible for.”

“yeah!” your daughter huffs, “and don’t take out your sad life on my mama!”

your eyes widen as you stare at your daughter.

on the other side, your husband is just as speechless. your daughter pays no one any mind as she continues, “mama works hard every day! you wouldn’t know that! you immature nugget!”

nanami frowns lightly, “d/n, that’s not nice—“

and for the cherry on top, your baby daughter throws the bottle cap she was playing with at the old lady, and frowns at her.

she starts babbling some nonsense that you're pretty sure are curse words in baby language.

having had enough, the old lady huffs, “the utter disrespect,” and starts walking away.

the rest of the spectators’ eyes follow her till she is out of sight. finally then, people start minding their own business, and you and your little family are left to the aftermath.

you giggle, “that was funny.”

“really?!” your daughter beams.

nanami cuts her off, “no,” he then looks at you with a small frown, a sigh escaping his lips, “y/n don’t encourage them—“

your baby daughter screams happily when she sees her sister smile. she starts kicking her feet with the biggest smile on her own face.

your older daughter starts laughing with her and tries to make her little sister laugh more—she was successful.

meanwhile, you chuckle, leaning on your husband’s shoulder, “admit it, kento; it was kind of funny.”

his resolve softens at the sound of laughter from all three of his girls, “okay, maybe a little, but—“

“yay!!”

ladies: 1

kento: 0

FUSHIGURO TOJI:

your husband and son are so alike, save for the part that your husband is a bit more shameless, and your son is more on the shy side.

however, they both have the same bluntness and the tendency to give anyone who they don’t like attitude.

for example, today, you were walking in the park with the both of them to unwind a bit.

not to mention that megumi wanted to walk his dogs which was a plus, since you would be able to watch your dear son play around with them.

it was all going great until you saw an old ‘friend’ who came running at the sight of you. he was someone who has always been way too touchy and in your personal bubble.

you have tried talking to him about it, but you’re confident that he does it to somehow force you into reciprocating the intimacy.

even if you’re a married woman with a freaking kid.

he giddily clasps your hand, “y/n, ‘been a long time!”

“h-hey,” you smile awkwardly.

he laughs, “I was passing by when I saw your figure, and I couldn’t help but come and say hi.”

you nod, “that’s great, but I am busy, so maybe later?—“

“you’ve gotten even prettier!” he exclaims, “I wish you would finally take me out on a—“

“can’t you see that she is uncomfortable?” your son retorts, “also, you should step back; you shouldn’t touch someone like this without asking them.”

megumi squeezes himself between the both you and glares at the man.

the guy was about to reply to your son, but toji pushes him back with ease, pulling you beside him and hand resting on your waist almost by instinct, “kid is right,” he tilts his head a bit, “ever been taught manners or do I have to do the teaching for you?”

the guy is taken back; offended, he snaps “you can’t speak to me like that!”

“and you can’t hold my mom’s hands like that, but here we are,” your son cleverly sasses him.

on the other hand, your—shameless—husband pulls you into one scandalous kiss and smirks at the guy when he pulls back, “and you can’t hit on a married woman, by the way.”

you hear your son gag in disgust at his dad’s actions, but you’re too busy burying your face in your husband’s chest, hoping that the guy disappears before toji makes even more of a bigger scene.

you also hope that the ground would swallow you, but that’s the alternative option.

the guy clutches his fist, before walking away, spewing insults at the sky—since he is too scared to cuss out your buff husband. once the man is out of sight, toji ruffles megumi’s hair, chuckling, “good job, kid.”

your shy bean’s cheeks redden slightly as he looks away, “…thanks.”

you’re still thinking about what just happened when you slap your husband’s chest, “toji, literally why?” you grumble, patting megumi who started holding onto your leg the moment you hugged toji.

“why not,” your husband shrugs with a small smile, taking pride in your flustered form.

“dad, I want ice cream.”

“no, you just want me to let go your mom, so you can hog her for yourself,” toji grumbles, staring down at megumi.

unfaltering, megumi looks up at him ,“dad, I want ice cream.”

“god damn it, listen here you—“

“divine dogs.”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

there is no denying that both your son and your husband care for you very much, and they both—very aggressively—compete for your attention.

I am talking he literally throws the kid across the room kind of aggressive, and your son, in turn, throws whatever he has at him.

it’s eventful, but you would be lying if you said that it wasn’t one of the reasons why you will get grey hair earlier than everyone else.

so their very aggressive nature is also shown in their protectiveness over you.

a person doesn’t need to insult or even dare flirt with you for your devil duo to make their life a living hell; your husband and son don’t tolerate someone speaking to you if it causes you to ignore both of them.

for example, this one new servant was clueless to where the broom is, and unluckily for him, he saw you sitting with your husband and son in the gardens. he humbly approached you, “excuse me, m’lady.”

you turn to look at him with a smile, “yes?”

he clears throat, a bit flustered by the attention, “I—I wanted to ask where the—“

“up your ass, you disgusting fiend,” your son sneers followed by his father’s ever-permanent scowl.

“who gave you the permission to come and speak to her so casually?” sukuna presses, and the servant quickly falls to his knees.

“m-my apologies, my lord! I did not mean to disturb you!”

sukuna crosses his arms, “well, you did, and you also disturbed your queen and prince,” his eyes narrow at the servant, “what do you have to say for yourself?”

meanwhile, you’re watching all of that, mouth agape and trying to articulate anything to save the poor guy. you finally find your voice, “sukuna, it’s okay; he didn’t mean—“

your son hugs you tightly and glares at the servant, “to think he would so brazenly speak to you like you’re old friends is terrible, mother.”

you can almost see your son’s cursed energy flaring, and you can spot the small smirk on your husband’s face as he watches his son.

before it escalates any further and you find yet another dead corpse in your palace, you pick up your son, kissing his cheek which makes him flustered and causing him to bury his face in your neck.

you look at the servant, “you’re dismissed, and you can ask the head maid about anything you need, okay?”

“y-yes, m’lady!” he, however, stays glued to the ground, “may I have the permission to lift my head?”

sukuna grunts, “sure.”

“thank you, m’lord,” the servant says, before scurrying towards the gate, having secured his freedom after his little mistake.

or at least, that’s what he thought.

your husband slices his legs off with a flick of a finger, and your son, who has inherited his father’s technique, slices the head off.

and so the body falls to the ground, and the other servants hurriedly start cleaning up the mess.

you frown at your husband, “sukuna! he apologized!”

he rolls his eyes, and pulls you by the waist, “do I look like I care? he shouldn’t have interrupted our time together.”

“aww, you’re jealous!”

“no, I am not—“

“hands off, old man!”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[moondirti]

MDNI. dubcon. objectification. degradation. humiliation. guys being gross. female reader. fingering. cunnilingus. pussy slapping. brief aftercare. an absurd amount of filth for something so short.

price helping you get over your fear of humiliation by inviting the guys over and prying your pussy open for them, half-slouched on his lap with your legs held up in the air :( they’re so mean about it, too. cooing condescending compliments, curling their nasty hands around your jaw to keep your head in place as they pet your most vulnerable places, like you’re the winning pup at a dog show and not a whole human—entitled to any boundary you set, regardless of how your husband feels.

they pay no heed to your protests, though. actually, the men avoid addressing you at all. rather, all their personal, invasive questions are directed to price, who answers them with his own self-satisfied grin.

‘keeps clenchin’ around nothing, desperate thing. hole this willing deserves to be gaped. how often d'you stuff her?’ depends on if she's been good.

‘fookin’ drooched, cap. does she taste as guid as she looks?’ mm, better. smells like nectar too. take a whiff, son. don’ wash my beard afterward on the occasion, jus to keep her under my nose.

‘think i can thaw a winter’s worth of ice with this cunt alone. heat’s practically radiating off ‘er. pathetic slut.’ y’should see how much worse it gets after a good beating, lieutenant. swells up, and damn well sears my palm.

and of course they take it upon themselves to test the validity of his answers. kyle works four fingers into you, then his thumb, stretching you open for his probing, angling your hips up to the light so that your insides are illuminated for his curious eye. if price didn’t have his rough hands anchored to the underside of your knees, you would have kicked his prized sergeant off.

embarrassment washes your neck in warmth, lashes droopy with fat tears. all your husband does to comfort you is place a scratchy kiss to your shoulder, soft hushes tickling your skin.

then, soap intercedes to shove his nose to your mons. he doesn’t just take a whiff — rather, he sucks in the sweet-sour tang your slick provides, testing it in both scent and taste. his hot tongue laves over where kyle’s fingers had been, incisors nibbling at the ripe bud of your clit. mortifying pleasure sinks low, sloshing in your belly’s bed. though you did not expect him to be, he isn’t modest about it. soap presses completely into your pussy, muzzle lacquered with wetness that rivals yours.

your whimpers devolve into moans. loud, a little unhinged. you’ve always played at dressing them up around price, worried that he’d turn away if your face screwed too tight, or your pleasure made itself known beyond what directly serves him. it’s exactly the habit that got you into this mess; and as you lose yourself to the scene, you can feel his delight blossoming against your back.

ghost scares you the most. he lets you have your orgasm, towering behind the man between your legs, but does not let him revel in it, yanking him back by his mohawk at the first twitch of your toes. in the fervour, you have hard time remembering what you should expect. especially when he doesn’t get to it immediately, wiping the gloss off your plush cunt. his callouses rash you, gritty, abrading the soft surface of your skin. it is only when you wince do his eyes crinkle in a manner cruel enough to evoke what’s to come.

but it’s too late to prime yourself. his hand flies back, coming back twice as fast to strike dead centre between your legs. it hurts. hurts so much more than it ever has before, your body unused to unrestrained strength. you scream, throat mangling around the rough cut of it, fighting wildly against price until you manage to escape his hold. immediately, instead of running away, you twist backwards, burying your face into his neck, calming yourself by taking deep breaths of his cologne. something heady — leather, tobacco, sandalwood — bridges the synapses in your brain, numbs the pain, if only a little.

“shhh, little one. you’re alright. it’s okay. doing so good for us.” he soothes, rubbing your sweaty back. the world narrows to just you and him, his men reduced to mere afterthoughts. to be dealt with later — though you doubt the conversation will be anywhere near reprimanding, more likely to end with a bottle of scotch split between four, approving slaps to the captain’s back, than it ever will in your defence.

“n-ne- never a-ga…”

“come, now. let’s not be brash, mm. i promised them a pump each. ‘n’ what kind of host would i be if i didn’t make good on that?”

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[guiltyasdave]

help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest. 

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness. 

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn. 

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him. 

“Did I do it again?” 

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan. 

“What exactly?”

“All of it.” 

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands. 

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.” 

He would much rather wake up like this. 

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place. 

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight. 

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him. 

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady. 

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” 

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again. 

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now. 

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches. 

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it. 

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level. 

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it. 

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this. 

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.” 

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh. 

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin. 

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.” 

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him. 

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.” 

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble. 

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat. 

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.” 

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind. 

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot. 

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.” 

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you. 

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out. 

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm. 

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.” 

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run. 

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice. 

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself. 

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness. 

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down. 

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself. 

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does. 

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain. 

“Stop what?” he growls back. 

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other. 

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released. 

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!” 

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches. 

“I’m not—” 

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside. 

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless. 

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat. 

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression. 

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up. 

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly. 

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once. 

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth. 

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay. 

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes. 

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes. 

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.  

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world. 

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair. 

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes. 

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.” 

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release. 

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes. 

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel. 

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—” 

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you. 

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips. 

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin. 

“Feels good, kitten?” 

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit. 

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride. 

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again. 

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer. 

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close. 

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him. 

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving. 

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance. 

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. 

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you. 

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good. 

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him. 

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time. 

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—” 

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat. 

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction. 

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot. 

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

-> part 2!

[roturo]

₊˚ෆ FALSE GOD

warnings: masturbation, sex, smut, porn with no plot, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, use of toys, cunnilingus, mentions of low/high sex drive, dom/sub dynamics, shaming, humilliation, blue balls, edging, corruption kink, mentions of somnophilia, and twitter links. (Gojo, Geto & Nanami)

author's note: this is not a goodbye, but take it as a see you soon writing.

part 2 (coming soon if it’s well received)

gojo satoru

He's been annoying you the whole morning while trying to coach the kids on their training– slapping his hand away everytime it lowers down from your lower back and giving him a glaring look.

Both of you talked about this. Not letting his high sex drive come across work, and mostly in front of his students.He looked like a lost puppy, searching for attention and someone to relieve his needs.

“Gojo. Stop it–” You pushed his hand away from you, looking back to see if someone else noticed what’s going on. “But I can’t princess, I need you right now~” He whined in your ear, he was about to throw a tantrum if you continued neglecting him this way. It’s been two weeks without sex, can you believe it? Two weeks! He prefers fighting Mahito’s annoying ass again on his own rather than pass one day without inside you.

“It’s not the time right now– and I'm not in the mood either.”

Okay. First of all he knew you weren’t too into sex, and he accepted it! He respected your boundaries, and he didn’t only want you for the sex, he loved you for who you are! But the way you said his last name instead of his first name, and looking like you were about to slap him turned him on even more.

He wouldn’t stop whining and throwing tantrums for your touch, opting for dismissing the class early so they could go to sleep or wherever, it’s weekend anyways. 

Both of you sat in silence in his office. Waiting for someone to break the tense silence thanks to him— and he was about to do it, but the moment your mouth opened his mind got in control of your sweet voice.

“Get up and take your pants off. Briefs too-” His eyes light up like a kid when receiving a lollipop for behaving like a good boy he is. He took off his shirt too, feeling like it was drowning him and taking the air out of him because this was the first time you were really taking control over all this.

“Sit.” He did as you said, his cock proudly standing tall and full of cum to dump wherever you wanted him too. But he wasn’t too lucky this time, because the moment you stepped closer to him and his desk, searching for one of his blindfolds he usually leaves there– you kneeled down infront of his, massaging his hard balls that made him moan out loud– taking them in one hand, they were heavy. His blindfold was around them, in a knot– tighten them. 

The moment you started jerking off he knew he wouldn’t come as easy as he would. It was wet, really wet– and all thanks to his pre-cum leaving his cock, he was begging for release, he couldn’t come, literally and physically. It was impeding him from cumming, it felt ten times worse than not having your touch– He had it now, but at what cost?

“Aw, look at those blue balls!” You laughed in front of him and slightly slapped the red swollen head of his cock– he was crying, he never did. But it felt so good but it hurt so much at the same time.  You took off the blindfold, cum coming out like a big wave, wetting his abdomen, part of his chest and your neck too. His moan almost sounded like a scream, cries and nervous laughs coming out of him– He came but you continued jerking him off, this time overstimulating him instead of edging him– He doesn’t know what was worse. Coherent words were long lost, babbling out trying to stop himself but he couldn’t move himself, way too lost in the pleasure to be able to stop you.

“Let’s see if you can atleast last a week without acting like a fucking horny virgin bitch this time mhm?, let’s make you cum again just to make sure, yeah?”

geto suguru

Geto is a morning wood guy. And he knows you have a low libido, actually Suguru is the only one you’ve sex with. 

“I’m scared of dicks ´guru” You whispered, kneeled down in front of him, you were at his dorm, it was 11 P.M and you decided to lose your virginity to Geto assuring he’s the one and you’ve never felt safe in someone else’s arms– he chuckled and looked at you with loving eyes– one of his hands caressed your cheek, “How are you going to be afraid of dicks and want to suck me off at the same time princess? Mhm?”

He laughed at himself at the memory, now you were 6 years together and he’s eager to know how your life is going to be with him, having a wedding, getting a house together, making you pregnant… full of him, shit. This is not helping with the main problem right now.

He’s a decent man. At least that’s what he thinks about himself– he’s not horny all the time like Satoru. Maybe that’s his form of love language? Satoru is a weird ass anyways– he thinks to himself while scrunching his eyebrows together, –stop thinking about him Suguru!, it’s going to make you puke instead of helping the problem… He was looking at the ceiling of your room while you’re sleeping right beside him. He doesn’t want to wake you up, you deserve to have a nice and comfortable sleep.

But the pain down there is not going anywhere, not even with a cold shower. He knows to identify his morning woods– living with them for his whole life, I guess. Unconsciously one of his hands is now touching himself through his boxers making him moan, his free hand quickly covering his mouth and looking to his side to find you still sleeping.   

He swears he’s about to slap himself to stop this and suck it up, but he feels your hand stopping him. “Are you okay baby?, I heard something and I thought you hurt yourself or something.”

Oh my god… How could you be so… pure? So perfect for him, always making sure he’s okay, your sleepy voice sounding deeper than your normal voice… His shirt is way too big for you that he swears if he moves his head a little higher he could see your nipples. Shit Suguru, you turned it sexual again!

Should he just… ask you? beg you? beg and cry for some release? Would he sound as horny as a teenager? This problem should be for teenagers! Not for a grown ass man like him!

“Um… I might just had a little problem down there”

“Might? Little?”

His flushed face was cute, his body was fully uncovered by the blankets, leaving him with his chest exposed and a clear wet patch on his boxers.

“C’mon baby, let me help you” He called out your name, trying to stop you the moment you placed your hand on the elastic of his underwear— in one swift motion you freed his cock, catching a glance of how swollen it was due the negligence of the past weeks. 

The moment Suguru felt the cold breeze on him, he came.

He fucking came with no touch.

Damn embarrassing.

“Aw, cute. Want me to suck you off?”

nanami kento

You haven’t rushed things with Nanami yet. Both of you were such a cute couple that made people gag. 

He’s amazing, not like any other boys you have met before, he treated you nice, spoiled you and mostly respected you– in a world of boys, he’s a gentleman. 

He’s such a hard working guy, such an inspiration, so committed to both of his works that you tell him if you ever get married you’ll be the best housewife he could ever have because he deserves it.

But one thing about Nanami is that he keeps things to himself. Just like the boner he has right now by imagining you being his little housewife. He really needs to leave this office right now and relieve some… stress.

The last weeks have been hard for him, naturally affecting your relationship with him. He was always tired, even more earnest and quiet. You know he’s bad at telling what he feels, and he’s always stressed by something– but you have never seen him like this. Like ever.

When he tries to distress himself he just keeps failing over and over again, not being enough and having to suck it up and continue his day with a hard poking erection most likely visible in his pants. That’s why he remains seated most of the time.

But one day he went to your house after work. It was impossible to not notice his erection even when he’s trying to hide with his briefcase or on the sofa. 

“Take your pants off Kento.” You’re not a big fan of sex, Nanami knows that, he hasn’t even had sex with you before! So this caught him by surprise, the red on his cheeks spanding through his neck.

“E-excuse me? I’m sorry, what honey?” 

“You heard me, take your pants off.” He’s seated on your sofa– unloosened tie, two or three bottoms of his shirt undone, messy hair, in his socks but that damn thing was literally capable of breaking his pants if it didn’t have some release.

He slowly started unbuckling his pants, losing his mental battle and accepting what he needed, and if you were willing to do it, all he could do is take it– but dear god, it was even worse.

All you would do is touch him. Through his briefs. Just the feeling of your fingers through them. Touching the tip was the worst part.

And he couldn’t believe that the most simple touch is capable of making him cum with just your fingers than him raming and jerking off the hardest he has ever tried.

[lilacstro]

my personal opinions on your big 3: your sun, moon, rising

paid readings open xoxo

support me on ko-fi :)

I was remembering the time when I was 10 years old and used to read those astrology posts that said things like "zodiacs in school", "what does your sun sign do when bored" and I wanted to make a less complicated, fun post just like that but wanted it to still be in accordance to people I have seen so far, so expect this post to be more fun and very not serious and rather light hearted, so here we goooo so since it is like so, please scroll past if you do not resonate :) I would be posting more serious stuff kind of what i learnt from my diploma the following week if possible, luv you<3

Aries

Sun: You guys are so full of passion omg. Sun is really powerful here and you guys actually shine, so passionate and full of energy. Every Aries Sun I have seen befriends anyone within 5 cm radius to them and has a very extroverted energy. If you are close to them, they will make sure to fight for you and protect you for sure.

Moon: Chaotic emotions and restless, but this restlessness always leads to some kind of creation. The types who work out to release pent up energy. It is possible you guys keep on discarding and making new habits and do not stick to one. Very destructive if provoked, especially emotionally

Rising: Beautiful people. You guys are likely to have a intense energy and aura around. Unlike Aries Sun, many Aries risings could be reserved at times. I think you are the people everyone is afraid of to participate along with in any competition because you scream this energy of "competitive, I am gonna win you see" without even trying!

Taurus

Sun: LORD YALL ARE SO CHILL, but probably sometimes way to chill and turn ice, I mean not ice cold(yes if you are annoyed by someone lmao) but sometimes may become too boring in the sense that you may not want to do crazy things, you like stable, calm energy. The types to watch a movie, or do some art when they are bored. ALSO VERY STUBBORN but also not mad easily but if mad really really angry. ALSO yall are so beautiful and elegant without even trying

Moon: This archetype is the mother in zodiacs. But you guys indeed if once emotionally connected to someone, would make sure they are well fed and had 8 hours of sleep and make sure they are feeling ok while having 10 mental breakdowns. Also, you guys can hold more grudges than Taurus Suns and Mars, and can sometimes or maybe most of the times be unwilling to change opinions.

Rising: Gorgeous Gorgeous people, who are a little shy at first and once comfortable, everything else, whatever that is, comes out. You guys are actually really good at cooking and also, even though Taurus is the sign of wealth and stability, I have seen many Taurus risings be good with money until its the time to spend on something they like, they spend crazy lmao. Very comfortable energy around you, make other people comfortable once they are.

Gemini

Sun: Do you want to know Gossips? Ask your Gemini Suns, I bet they know a new one from 10 minutes ago. They are updated fast on drama than most google sites. Also, they have pure crackhead energy no doubt, but they can carry a conversation so well and talk about anything you want, even though might have no idea about it

Moon: Crackhead energy once again. If you want a good time and do not take things seriously or do not get offended easily, go to your Gemini Moon friends, they indeed say the most out of pocked things at times, but they are very funny. But if you are serious and want to have serious conversation, it is 9/10 chances that you would not be taken much seriously, since anything that is boring distracts gemini moons to zone out, so they probably heard you half and would comment on that half info without asking you to repeat because they do not want to listen again lmaooo But for the 1/10 times they listen seriously, they offer really good and short and simple advice.

Rising: These people are like chameleon to me, I mean they adapt so well to wherever they are and who they with. They also are very hard to recognize since they come in all different beauty and styles and aesthetics. Very good conversationalists once again and always seem to be talking about something or to someone, never really idle. Good at texting and probably post many selfies on social media.

Cancer

Sun: GOD you all are so innocent and cute until someone really gets to see past that lmao, or I may rather say, you let someone see. For some reason you guys always have your guards up, but you are good at fooling people by making them think they probably have seen all your cards, especially in terms of what you are really capable of. Most cancer suns I have seen, regardless of whatever kind of relationship they may have with their moms, they seek their validation somehow.

Moon: Very intuitive and sensitive to emotions, especially of other peoples. Really good at understanding others and healing them, they are really soft people honestly. They are again very unlikely to show you your feelings and emotions, but somehow would see yours. Very nurturing and caring, especially emotionally. Your comfort friends who treat you with ice cream and listen to your sob story.

Risings: Wonderful people, very kind and loving and caring. I have often seen Cancer risings are very keen on making people around them feel seen and heard and cared for, they carry so much charm in them. Very down to earth, and they are always willing to listen. Very emotional people like all Cancer placements and very empathetic, would try their best to make you feel warm and they do it so well that people can let their guards down and connect to them, probably even spill their secrets.

Leo

Sun: SHOW STOPPERS. So charismatic, and even if they are not loud like most leos, there is a 9.9/10 chance that you have atleast seen them once or heard about them once it is impossible that you are not aware about their existence. They usually like attention and validation from other people, but if no one would do that, they do it themselves and then other people reflect that energy back and yeah...the cycle never ends. I do know that people say Leo Suns are selfish and egoistic, while that maybe true on some level, they are really good at making people feel confident and worthy and also very generous.

Moon: 9/10 Leo moons I have seen have some kind of egoic validation and connection related to their mother. They are likely to be people who are "mumma's girls/boys" because until and unless they feel their moms validation, they would not proceed. Cancer Moons are like so too, but somewhat less than Leo Moons. Also, very possible that you are the oldest, or you act like the oldest. Very charming people though. If they are introverted, their energy is loud and charismatic without even trying, and if they are outgoing, then it is visible and double charismatic of how they are able to validate their emotions and act on them, be verbal about it. BUT BUT sometimes or I may say, most, you guys are really dramatic when hurt and high on emotions. You cannot stand being ignored I knowwww.

Rising: Um how do I say it. Leo suns are bright bright sun, Leo moons are golden enveloped kind of shiny, while Leo risings have a halo on their head and back. I mean it is an energy that you look at and feel drawn to, you do not force yourself like wanting to see the Sun in the eyes but you just see them somehow, they have a warmth around them. Usually very outgoing, great sense of style, and befriend people easily. Although all Leo placements are comfortable to put a fight, Leo risings would especially are not afraid either, especially if they feel the challenge at themselves or hurt at the ego. They are usually very kind and I have seen trust people easily irdk why. They often try to direct their light on other people and try to shine them along. Though, I sometimes see such people dimming their own light to get along with others. Generous people at hearts.

Virgo

Sun: You guys are the ones who are so serious about the next exam 2 months in advance, probably even before the exams are announced. Very critical of themselves, usually very introspective and rather quiet and even if you are outgoing, it is ambiverted, you are not in someone's face lmao. Very organized and may tie their worth to studies and grades, and their friends too, often. YOU GUYS DO NOT LIKE INTERUPTIONS IN PLANS LMAO

Moon: Logic with emotions, you do not let things hurt you until you have processed the feelings mentally. Your feelings do not go to the heart directly, it first goes to the mind and then you decide if you can make sense out of it, which most of the times you cannot, so you hurt your head with brainstorming as an extra with your heart. It feels like you guys have compartments in your head, and you put those memories and feelings in each so you can pull them up asap when needed to retrieve. Usually good at following routines and structures and like predictability in some form. If they are not in a clean or organized they do not feel good, whatever that means to them, whether that means trash in their room or floors so clean you see your face

Rising: Beautiful people yet again. Look very youthful and young. Really work oriented, and would really really want that they be seen and recognized at work/school for their efforts or can feel upset otherwise. They say and do things in exact manner, no less no more and usually avoid fuss and drama. Like showing up in a rather neat and clean, minimalistic manner than being more big and bold, all with their appearance and emotions and words. Just like Virgo Moons, these people like clean places especially and cannot handle unhygienic people and places at all. The types to be careful with spellings at school and work and while texting and maybe avoid emojis or use wrong ones.

Libra

Sun: I think the more you guys like justice and harmony, most Libra Suns I have seen have rather disbalanced scales are WILD, but the justice is indeed super important when it comes down to them ahem ahem. I also see you guys put great efforts in wanting to be liked by people often, and sometimes if not all, would try to make efforts to do that. Usually very charming and friendly and would even make a beautiful smile on their face for their worst enemy in social settings rather than letting people know they hate them. They can hate many people honestly, but with you, you are the best one and the most special person ever, behind your back, idk depends vastly honestly, so if you ever confided in a Libra Sun because of their nice nature in the 1st meeting, good luck babe!

Moons: I think Libra Moons are very nice again and do all the nice talking to make you comfortable but they are actually most justice oriented and fair than Libra Suns. Their mood can actually depend on how good they look honestly. Also very kind and nice and usually would say the things someone would blow up on your face for in the nicest manner idk how do they have so much patience. Also they have a silent charisma to them often I have seen. They again are nice to everyone and never really blow up even when the scales are highly unbalanced or I may say, unless the scales are trashed :D

Risings: AH SUPER CHARISMATIC. Very lovely people. And super attractive I must say, and I would say effortlessly idk how. If I could describe libra risings by one color I would say pastel pink idk every thing about them screams aesthetic and pretty, their aura is usually very fun and uplifting and it is unlikely they take any kind romance they have ignited in people by their words and charisma to be taken seriously. Popular people, liked by everyone kind of placement. I mean they can be worst people too but atleast from far and in the first glance, it is highly unlikely you would be able to guess.

Scorpio

Sun: I would say they are either of extremes, either you have never seen or heard from them are they are one of the mysteries of the world and super quiet or they are LOUDDDDDDD there is no in between and regardless, these people have some kind of charm and I would say MAGNET in them. They can be the most toxic people (they are not, tho there are exceptions) but you would still feel attracted to them idk why would be that so, but it would be like that most of the times. Also sometimes I have seen these people often cannot stay in friend groups for too long even if they tried to, some kind of drama would always happen if there is a friend with Scorpio Sun in the group because these people are actually super sensitive, though I never say its a bad things. I have seen whenever I simply hear or even sit near a frustrated or jealous or angry Scorpio Sun I feel a certain kind of vibe to them. It feels like heaty and heavy I cannot explain. But yeah strong emotional reactions, even if quiet or even if someone else is narrating it, I can know it was a Scorpio Sun idk how. Very territorial and possessive and if they know someone did their friend wrong they better fear lives but it only happens when they feel close to you or vice versa and that happens super rare....But once they decide they really want to keep you, it is a long friendship.

Moons: Tough, Strong people. They are brave and fight the worst adversities that are thrown on them. Their emotions change them in the sense that before going through anything they would sense a storm is about to come, and their emotions would adapt to the change before their mind and body. Really good at reading people and the room and understanding your deepest, most unexplainable feelings as if they have experienced every kind of emotion possible. Usually psychic, intuitive and empathetic. Could often dream about the past and can have troubles breaking mental patterns especially if they are harmful in some way.

Risings: They remind me of the black and white filter honestly idk why. I think I can say most scorpio risings are not as loud or outgoing, they can be fun and wild but they usually have an intimidating aura, I would say more intimidating that Sun and Moons. Often seen them have shadows on their face, and also, sleepy eyes like they do not seem intoxicated exactly but their eyes are not wide awake normal like most people. You can never know them honestly, just like any scorpio placement and they can merge into the background if they wanna hide and you would not know. They are the friends who respond to your texts 2 months later or are out of reach every 2 months. Never consistent on social media or never post is one more thing.

Sagittarius

Sun: AH VERY BLUNT LMAO. Most Sag Suns I have met are very blunt especially if they are comfortable with you or your friend. Always have a world of their own, maybe they have occupied their mind in some movie or drama or maybe they are busy creating some art or lost in their day dreams they are not really present in the current world and I guess that is why they have energy, especially physical energy I must say. Every Sag Sun I have seen has liked dancing at one point and always has some kind of engagement outside their own culture, be it supporting a sports team different from their own country or being invested in some other culture's movies and entertainment.

Moon: Sag Moons I know sometimes seem to have problems in understanding other people's emotions because theirs are so big and expanded that they cannot really see it for other people. I have seen Sag Moons are often the kinds of people to develop an affinity for some kind of place or person they have never met very easily. They are actually very dramatic just like Leo Moons honestly but different in the sense that it takes longer for them to see things clearly I feel. Usually very optimistic and motivating and very hopeful for the future. The most bold and big actions they take are when they are impulsive because of high emotions I have seen.

Risings: AH I do not know why but Sag risings are very beautiful, yes, beautiful. Literally. Such a beauty to them, even if they may not be conventionally or beauty standard pretty, they feel beautiful. These kinds of people who you sit with for 10 minutes and they say the most life changing things in a single line without even them realizing, maybe while doing random things and they do not even realize it. Always wanting to travel or connect with other cultures, more proactively than other people I feel.

Capricorn

Sun: I do not know but every Capricorn sun I have seen has a vibe of "do not touch me you peasant" or "no thanks, do not wanna hear your good morning I have a business meeting" and this is when you would be seeing them at lunch in the cafeteria, probably even in high school irdk. A serious persona and appeal idk they also seem mysterious for some reason and feel like they are unwilling to talk, its a hard and confusing energy. Also you can be their friend for years and you do not really know if they are your friend. I think the best way to know if a Capricorn Sun is your friend is when you see them respond to your texts in time, give you their time and energy. And if a Capricorn sun is spending money on you, I feel you are really serious for them lmao

Moon: STOICS. You can never read them. They will never tell you about their emotions even after they die, especially if they have specially decided not to. They hold their emotions back, and often wait for some kind of time or opportunity, which does not make it better but probably worse since the jist of the emotions and when was the right time to say was probably gone. If you are a Capricorn Moon, please tell your crush you like them before they have 10 grandkids. ALSO, you guys are good in this sense that you do not disassociate at worst emotional pressures and dramas and never act out on your emotions no matter how DRAMATIC AND INTENSE the situation is so you never really make a fool of yourself actually.

Risings: AH Capricorn risings, they are actually elites, or they feel like that. They have that serious and "do not waste my time if you have nothing important to say" kind of look. Very savage and people fear you for some reason and your intensity and seriousness is not something you try to do, its just silently felt lmao. The kind of friend in the friend group where after cracking a joke people see if you laughed, and if you did not, they feel they messed up and even if you did, they ask you if you were not offended lmao. Good people to go to for taking serious advices/conversations they have capacity for that.

Aquarius

Sun: Honestly I cannot even lie anymore, I have never seen an Aquarius who does not has completely, completely different and sometimes, even concerning views on the most common things and they are actually proud of it and its crazy. You wanna compete with your Aquarius Sun friend in what most weird things have happened to you, you cant actually LMAO. Also, most Aqua Suns can have really good emotional intelligence in understanding other people, but themselves. Always aware on what is happening in the world, and also, good with internet and computers. Kind and Generous at hearts<3 Also idk why do most of them speak with a lot of pauses in between.

Moon: I have seen 9/10 times people with Aquarius Moons have some very weird relationship with their mother. Either she is absent but not absent really, and she loves you but does not love you idk. I also feel as a child you could have been the weired one, the one people tried to tame but in the end YOU are the one who ends up doing something completely different from their family and usually succeed (especially if you do it consistently and do not get a superior complex in between) I have often seen regardless of how good and bad it is, these natives are always distant from their family emotionally, and more connected to their grandparents than their own parents. Usually people you can share anything with! and they take their friends very seriously I have seen.

Rising: Aquarius risings I have seen are mostly active on social media, and are very likely not posting themselves but rather posts on geopolitics, or maybe poetry or maybe something that people would find relatable. They also seem to be people who make you comfortable being weird around them without even trying. It is like you can say something really quirky or weird around them that people would probably make faces at you for, but they would respond genuinely without judgement lmao. Very friendly and welcoming to all kinds of people and as a result have a very colorful friend group.

Pisces

Sun: Very sweet people and usually very introverted but they are always occupied and they are always doing something, especially artistic or musical. Most Pisces Suns I know are actually really good at artistic stuff. The types to doodle at the back of their notebook, or zone out in classes. They are usually very kind but actually very sensitive. Also even if you probably bother them, they would not say much but if you bother someone they feel protective about then that is another thing. Very emotional. Random but I have often seen these people confuse romantic and platonic love they feel, so I do not know if I would say they are emotionally intelligent in that way.

Moon: Pisces Moons I know really really connect to music, or do music in some shape or forms. Really artistic. Also, I would not like to be awful and generalizing, but out of Sun and Rising, Pisces Moons are in their feels really easily. They attach themselves to things and people super easily as well. Apart from Sag Moons, Pisces Moons are also able to attach themselves to people and places they never seen and even dream about them. But they actually have really intense connections to their imaginations are fully emotionally invested in their hopes and dreams, even the ones they see in sleep. Really good at manifesting. idk but Pisces Moons are also good at lying and also making up real emotions when they need to, its like their super power.

Risings: I personally have never known a Pisces rising. But I would talk from what I have seen so yeah. First of all regardless of gender, people with Pisces rising have some kind of feminine look to them, like how do I explain, like pretty white stars shining on them. I feel most Pisces risings, at some point in their life, have been really gullible. I also feel Pisces rising really do have two completely different. opposite sides to them, now if is apparent to them or people is one other thing. Good at artsy stuff and have really good skin. Really beautiful, probably a little downturned eyes, it looks like their eyes have stars and dreams and hopes in them, and this is something I have seen be constant. Idk for some reason it feels they somehow always carry their past with them and probably never really show their vulnerable side

typing this broke my hands lol

i love you all

leave suggestions in the asks

xoxo

[dcxdpdabbles]

The Undead Florist

Anon said: Basically, I just wanted Danny to deliver flowers to the Justice League heroes from his fans. If you can include Everlasting Trio. U can add whatever crack you think would be best! Thank you!

Clark is in the middle of blocking a heat ray attack from a robot that copies the powers of any Justice League member when the unexpected happens. A kid, no older than fourteen, boldly walks into the battlefield carrying a lavish bouquet of red roses and trigger lilies.

He's dressed in a worker uniform: light brown khakis, a black shirt with a light-born vest, and a black baseball hat resting neatly on his head. There is a company logo on the upper right of his vest but Clark does not recognize the stylized D.

There was a still moment when Clark's super speed could see the exact second Amazo spotted the child. The boy wasn't paying attention, staring at his phone screen, which had the faint details of a map, and had two headphones in his ear.

Clark's eyes widen in horror, and he opens his mouth to try to shout a warning—though he doubts the kid could hear him over the loud music playing in his ear—but before he can, Amazo flung out an arm straight at the kid's head, still pinning Clark down with a cheap version of his own laser ray eyes.

No! No, please, he's so young! He pleads mentally, frozen in horror as the robot's hand goes right through the kid's head. It took a solid minute for Clark to realize that Amazo's hand hadn't ripped through the skull of the child but rather had passed through him as if the boy was not physically there.

From underneath a black baseball cap, brim, electric blue eyes stare at Amazo. Gesturing vaguely to the arm going through his head, the boy frowns. "Rude much?"

"Access: Black Canary," Amazo says in response, his jaw opening wider as a super-powered scream is released, pointing black at the kid's face.

The frown on the worker deepens as the boy reaches up and- slaps the android in the face? "Dude, I'm trying to work. I have like eight flower deliveries today. Also, that was a weak imitation. This is a real Ghostly Wail."

He opens his jaw, letting out a sound that wasn't as loud as Black Canary or Amazo but somehow worse.

And the sound—the unholy screech that releases from the child sends Clark to his knees, quivering in his boots as Amazo disintegrates right before his eyes. The only thing left of the android is a smothering pair of robotic legs that fall over with a loud thump.

The boy huffs, paying no mind to the fact that he took out the enemy the league had spent the last six hours fighting before Clark tried to lure it away from the city. He merely glances back at his phone, following the little moving icon on the map until he stands before the fallen hero.

"Hi! Are you Superman?" The kid asks in a polite, chipper tone. It's such a whiplash change between his normal voice and his customer service voice that it sets in. This is really just a Tuesday for him.

Clark opens and closes his mouth with a weak "Yes" and is pushed out.

The kid's smile grows as he pushes the flowers into his arms. Clark nearly drops the vase, scrambling to get a good hold of them as the kid pulls out a harmonica and plays a little jingle. It sounds like a mix between Happy Birthday and Ring Around the Roses.

Once he is done, the boy holds out his arms wide open and loudly proclaims, in a very obvious Transatlantic accent, which makes him sound... rather otherwordly: "These flowers are sent by your fan Kattie Longsmith in Metropolis, wishing to thank you for rescuing her mother and brother from a fire. She wants to remind you that she is your biggest fan and hopes you have a lovely day. Thank you for selecting the Undead Florist as your means of flora travel!"

With a theatric bow, the boy blinks out of existence.

Clark is left kneeling alone in a destroyed cornfield, beating black and blue, while holding a vase of lavished roses and lilies. He is unsure how long he will stay there, trying to process what he just saw as the Batplane flies onto the scene, Bruce jumping out of it with a cry of his name.

Batman growls upon taking in the scene before his friend rushes to his side. "What happened?"

"I ugh...I got a flower delivery." He manages to utter, eyes still trained on the spot of the strange kid.

"What?"

"Trust me, I'm as confused."

It turns out that Clark's delivery is not an isolated incident. Over the past three months, various Justice League members have reported similar interactions with the Undead Florist.

Flash got a bouquet while trying to stop Captain Cold. The kid had wandered in the middle of a fight, unfreezing the speedster to hand over yellow lilies and sunflowers from a little boy named Teddy Smith in Central City. He had melted the freeze ray that was shot at him while Barry was in the middle of a panic, thinking he would watch a child die.

One little jingle and message was delivered in a Transatlantic accent later, and the boy was gone without a trace again. Bruce had gone to the scene, trying to find anything that could give him some clue, but he disputed the clear picture of his face and the recording of his voice. Nothing about the boy came up in their systems.

Wonder Woman was next, receiving two large bouquets of roses from a fellow woman she had rescued named Trix Cooperman. Her jingle was slightly smoother jazz , and the message leaned towards romantic than gratitude from a fan, but the boy had delivered it nonetheless.

He also took out Cheetah with a well-placed punch, highly impressing Diana. He had the makings of a warrior.

Then Green Arrow, Green Lantern, Martian Man Hunter, Batman, Martian Man Hunter, Hawkgirl, Aquaman, Zatanna, and surprisingly Vigilante each got their own flower grams.

None of them were able to get any information about the child, seeing as he only appeared when the members were in the middle of a fight, which was driving Bruce mad.

Of course, they had tracked down all the clients but met a dead end when each claimed they had never placed an order with Undead Florist. Even when Diana was holding her rope, the people gave the same answer.

They had no idea why Undead Florist was delivering flowers in their name or where the message that came along with the flowers appeared from. The chilling part was that the messages did actively represent their emotions and feelings towards the heroes, but how the overpowered child knew that was left unanswered.

The other thing that bothered Bruce was that the Undead Florist only appeared when they were in battle.

"Maybe it's because he doesn't know how to find you otherwise," Nightwing suggested at the Justice League-wide meeting.

"He uses a GPS that is locked into the heroes." Batman grunts, not dismissing the suggestion but challenging it, which causes his eldest son to shrug.

"Undead could be following online tips or something. It's not like the Leauge is seen just strolling around the cities, but people tweak when they do happen to see us."

"We could test that. Have a group of heroes just relaxing at a cafe or something. See where he appears and if there is a pattern after monitoring social media." Red Robin suggests, rubbing his chin.

Batman considers it before nodding. "I shall divide the teams."

The Justice League goes out, doing as instructed, and sure enough, they find the Undead Florist appearing more and more. Red Robing happily puts together the pattern, pointing to social media generated by the younger generation's demographics.

Undead Florist is an actual teenager using DCtweets to find heroes to bring flowers to. They have enough proof of that to show he's harmless if one ignores his more than impressive battle skills.

"Now all we need to do is catch him," Clark announces. "We don't want to scare him, but the Justice League really needs to know how he's doing all of this. It could be a security risk."

Meanwhile, Danny chills in his haunt, watching Sam tend to the flowers in a large greenhouse he placed for her. Tucker is typing away on a ghost zone-powered supercomputer, looking at all the Soul orders their business is getting.

The Ghost Zone didn't have a formal currency; they had Deals instead. Even small unconscious deals—like wishing on a shooting star, throwing a coin in a fountain, or sending a prayer or two—could be turned into deals if a higher being encountered them.

Luckily for those people, Danny and his lovers are very kind higher beings and choose to complete their requests in a way that satisfies all of their obsessions without stealing souls.

Sam got to spread her greenery across worlds, Tucker got to spend time with tech from different universes and Danny was able to explore and protect the souls of humans.

That Danny could exchange these Soul orders for gold was no one business but their own.

"Ohhh, another order, Red Robin, from Universe Nine!" Tucker crows. "It's roses in the shape of a heart from Kon-el. Aw, he's in love with his best friend!"

"That's sweet." Danny smiles, leaning over his boyfriend's shoulder to read the message he must memorize when he struts into Gotham. "I know how much fun dating best friends is."

"Let's help those losers confess then!" Sam calls, raising her hands as roses of various colors burst to life around her.

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Sweet Thing

Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Reader

Summary: You watched your brother kill the man you love--a man you were once gifted to by the Baron--and now that he is gone, you think Paul will use you as a political pawn in his war. And you're right. But you're shocked to discover who is demanding to have you.

Words: 2650

Notes/Warnings: Ignore canon ages in the timeline. I don’t know what they are, but everyone young is in their twenties, cool? Cool. Dune inaccuracies. Jessica and Paul kind of (very much) suck. Feyd’s a soft boy for our reader. Angst but also fluffy-ish stuff. Implied smut. Mention of pregnancy. I think that’s it. TG:M people ignore me. I don’t know what I’m doing here either, but i'm embracing it for now. 

Part 2

When your brother pierced through armor into pale flesh, you felt it as if he had driven that blade into your body instead of the body of the man you love. You felt the shock of icy steel penetrating warm and delicate tissue, and the suffocation that came from the mutilation of your lung. You felt droplets of blood run down your front as you reached for the blade that was not there. As children, you were taught not to remove it. Not unless sufficient care was nearby to stop the bleeding before too much was lost.

Paul did not respect that knowledge. He yanked his knife out of Feyd’s torso and watched with relief as he collapsed to the ground. His body landed with a thud that matched the heavy beat of your heart. A beat that reminded you your blood was rushing strong, keeping you alive while your lover was draining dry of the strength to keep himself from leaving this world, from leaving you. 

You wailed in the silence of those around you. Screamed at the top of your lungs as tears streamed down your face. You tried to go to him but the Fremen snatched you before you could reach him, forcing you to your knees, one of them slapping a hand over your mouth. This was not the time for hysterical outbursts; it was a time to stare in awe as a new leader accepted his victory and claimed power over the emperor and his daughter. 

“Shut up, girl,” a male voice spit in your ear. He was tired of the struggle you were putting up against the hand squeezing your face. You were ruining his opportunity to witness a beautiful moment in history. A defining moment. A moment you didn’t give two fucks about. 

No one spared you a glance save for the witch whose vibrant eyes were drilling into the side of your skull. A woman your father had instructed you receive as a stepmother following your third birthday. A manipulative woman whose smile in front of the Duke had masked the scowl permanently seared onto her face when looking at you—a decades-long act that the capture and death of your father had freed her from. And she’d wasted not a second displaying her distaste for his daughter. 

Not long ago you'd thought to thank Lady Jessica for not loving you. Her lack of love made her so terribly desperate to rid herself of you that when cornered the night your family was attacked, she’d thrown you right into the arms of the Harkonnens—a fate she believed would destroy you rather than thrust you into a life you would come to cherish.

“A gift for you, nephew,” the baron had said after the fighting ceased and the soldiers, with you in their grasp, had returned to their unfamiliar home.

Feyd-Rautha had not rushed when he descended the staircase and approached you for the first time. His eyes were unblinking as he’d taken in his present; a slow drawl from head to toe that sent shivers down your spine. 

“An Atreides,” Feyd had said in a low voice, deep and thick and eerily lovely.

The baron’s voice did not contain the same appeal. “Yes. Do you like it? A new pet for you to ruin.”

You’d stood frozen as Feyd traced a knuckle down your cheek before grasping your chin and running his thumb over your bottom lip. He’d possessed not a lick of shame when his index finger drew a line from the dip of your throat to your cleavage. There had been no consideration for your feelings when he tucked that same finger between your breasts and the neckline of your nightgown and lightly tugged you forward. 

You had gasped with your stumble, your hands pressing against his chest to catch your fall while he smirked at the blush tinting your cheeks. His tongue then darted out to dampen his lips before he moved his hand to the curve of your waist and squeezed. 

“Perfect,” He’d said, not in a loud declaration of appreciation, but in a tone meant for your ears only. Then he’d grabbed you by the wrist and led you to his chambers.

When the door had slammed behind you after you were jerked inside the room, you were suddenly filled to the brim with panic. You’d heard the rumors. What would he do to you? How would he do it? Would you suffer long? 

A tear had slipped down your cheek that, once noticed, was brushed away with his thumb. 

“Do not worry yourself unnecessarily.”

You’d swallowed, stuttering, “Wh-What do you mean?”

He’d pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, exposing pale skin taught over defined, well-trained muscle. Then he’d stepped into your space, inching you backward until your spine was flush with the wall. He’d fisted the flimsy, nearly see-through fabric of your nightgown in his hand and slowly dragged it up your body until fingers could sneak under the hem to graze your inner thigh.

You’d sucked in a sharp breath at the pleasurable waves of heat that rippled from his touch.

“Atreides or not, you’re much too precious to ruin the way my uncle suggests,” he had said, his lips a hair's-width away from yours. “I've been looking for you for so long. You're mine now, do you understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He hadn’t loved your hesitation—you could see it in his eyes and in the downturn of his lips—but he was satisfied when you’d truthfully said:

“No.” Because you weren’t. Not after he had brushed that tear off of your cheek.

His next question had caused your heart to skip a beat from the concoction of emotions it shot through you. Fear of the unknown mixed with unexpected excitement.

“Have you done this before?” 

You’d shaken your head and in response he lightly nodded, his nose nudging yours. 

“You want to?” he’d asked, hiking your leg up to his hip, and you found yourself nodding as well. “I won’t make it hurt.”

You’d replied with a soft “Ok” before accepting his kiss with as much fervor as he was giving it, thankful that what you’d imagined was awaiting you upon your arrival in foreign territory was far from what you were receiving. 

Days later, when you had mentioned that he did not live up to the rumors of his cruelty extending to all areas of his life, he’d hummed. Said, “I make many bleed, and enjoy it. I feed off of their pain. Those who have been in my bed are not spared this, and it will not be uncommon for you to see me stained with the death of others, including my former pets.” 

He’d paused then, allowing you a moment to question your future as one of those pets, if that's what he considered you.

“But I have been searching for something that I’ve wanted for a very long time,” he’d said. “Something that hasn't existed within these walls. Something I will never want to harm. Something…soft…and sweet,” he had admitted to your surprise.

He’d then told you that you were that sweet thing. That he’d known it from the moment he saw you. That he was choosing you. 

But it was a choice that had its repercussions. 

All things must have balance, and you had tipped the scales. From his gentleness toward you, a darker, more gruesome beast emerged when facing off with others. A brutal warrior who never surrendered and never lost. A sadistic man who showed no mercy to the opponents whose blood you would later wash from his body. He had annihilated his previous reputation as just the famed killer of Geidi Prime and evolved into something more, all because of you.

That was why you thought he would win against Paul. Your brother was skilled, but the universe had long known the name Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his prowess in combat and his ruthlessness which had only grown with time. 

So why was it not your brother on the floor with his love sobbing and struggling to reach him?

In the thirteen days since your lover’s death, it is that question that has robbed you of all peace. 

Despite your brother having escorted you back to Caladan for the time being, you find no sense of home or happiness in your birthplace. You walk the beaches and fields that, as a child, you dreaded one day leaving, but they are not the same. Nearly a year has gone by since you were last here, however, so much of what you once loved about this planet is overshadowed by the shattered heart caused by Feyd's death. 

When you were young, your father would often express his wishes for your future. He would paint a beautiful image of you bringing your children to play in the gardens of your childhood home, carefree and unburdened. It was a source of comfort that he used to mask the reminder of your duty as an Atreides: that you would not be marrying and having children out of love, you would marry in the name of peace and produce heirs in the name of security. And it seems in the end, he was right.

With Feyd unable to claim you, Paul will be the one to secure new arrangements for your future, which just so happens to greatly fare in his favor. After all, he just declared war, and you are the ripened political pawn at his disposal.

“Are you well?”

You turn as sharply as you can at the intrusive voice, but the uncomfortable skirts of your dress are thick and stiff, restricting your movements. Feyd never made you wear anything like this and you forgot what it's like to be weighed down by layers of fabric. You fucking hate it.

Paul stands a few feet away, his hands clasped behind his back and a light smile on his face. Clearing his throat, he joins you on the balcony attached to your old room. 

“I know we haven’t spoken much about what’s to come. I’m sure you’ve been curious,” he says. 

You shrug, shake your head, and return your gaze to the horizon where ocean meets sky. 

“We have matters to discuss.”

Matters such as where he will be sending you off to be married, you imagine. He must act quickly if he intends to establish and gain control over house alliances, since they weren't overly enthusiastic about accepting him as their leader.

“Let's sit down,” he tells you. He grasps your hand before you can object and guides you to one of the balcony benches. Once you’re settled, he takes a seat beside you and says, “I am going to ask you something. And I want honesty.”

You sigh. “What?”

“When you were with the Harkonnens for those many months, were you treated like a slave as I had feared, or were you something far from it?”

Your eyes narrow. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because it’s important,” Paul states, staring you directly in the eye. “I’ve been thinking about the way you wept over him after we fought, and how he denied every offer I made in exchange for your release…” With his pause, he shakes his head. “I thought maybe he had messed with your mind, confused you, and that was why you were so hysterical over his loss…but that’s not right, is it.”

“Paul–”

“Does he love you?”

It takes conscious effort to keep your body from shifting uncomfortably. “What is it to you?”

“He survived his wounds,” Paul says. 

The casualness with which he shares that news heavily contrasts everything that runs through you. Your heart stops. Your lips part, unsuccessful in drawing in oxygen. Your eyes no longer see anything but Feyd’s face as it flashes in front of you. The way he looked when he last smiled at you. The way he looked the last time he came inside of you. The look of him when he died—or almost died. Death had been there, looming over him. 

You’re trying to will away the tears. Paul is watching you too closely. “Wh–What?” you say.

“He’s alive, and he is demanding you be returned to him,” he informs you. “So, tell me: is he truly threatening me so aggressively over one of his ‘pets’? Or is he threatening me to get back the woman he loves?” 

The woman he loves. You never imagined yourself in a situation where your brother would ask if a member of a centuries-long rival house loves you. But then again, you never imagined a member of a centuries-long rival house loving you to begin with.

You remember the night he told you. It was late and your bodies were bare after having bathed together. You were searching for your nightgown when he said “Come to bed, my love.” 

You sighed, defeated. He’d called you that before, but whether it was real or not was such a mystery and it hurt your heart a little bit more each time. “You shouldn’t call me your love unless you mean it,” you finally told him. 

You heard his footsteps when he stood from the bed. He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “Why would I call you that if I do not mean it?” he asked. Then he hummed and said “You know me better than that, my love” before dipping his head lower and nipping the shell of your ear with his teeth. 

So yes, he loved you—loves you. But there’s something in Paul’s voice as he asks you that question that gives you pause. It’s too gentle as if luring you into a false sense of security. The Harkonnens are not known for their capacity to love, and Feyd loving you could be seen as a weakness; his one vulnerable spot.

As monotone as you can manage, you reply, “If you’re being threatened you should just send me back and be done with it. I know you have more important things to worry about.”

Paul’s lips thin in disappointment. “I can’t send you back,” he says. “Not yet.”

“Why not?”

He sighs. “Because I believe he loves you. And I need to see how far a Harkonnen is willing to bend for an Atreides,” he says. “If he wants you back, he will have to be open to negotiations.”

You stand sharply, take a few steps from him, and blow out a heavy breath through your nose. You were told your brother changed after drinking that magic water and it shows. Holding you hostage for political gain is not the same as marrying you off. 

“I would like to be done with this conversation,” you say with a huff.

“I understand,” he replies, so you turn to enter your bedroom. But before you’re fully through the door, he says, “There’s more, though.”

You freeze. 

“I had a dream,” he says, his voice coming closer. “There was a boy, no more than five years old. He had your features and your hair but his skin was of the same paleness as the Harkonnens.”  

Sucking in a breath, you brace yourself with a hand gripping the door’s frame. 

“You’re pregnant, sister,” he tells you, leaning against the opposite side of the doorway. “But I'm very glad to know that the heir of Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is a product of love rather than an unfortunate incident,” he says. “Additional incentive, should it be necessary.”    

In your shock, you can’t look at him. He doesn’t need you to. You can see his smirk in your peripherals, then he pushes off the frame and heads toward the main door of your room. 

“Try to get some rest, sister,” he calls over his shoulder. “You really shouldn't be on your feet too long.”

[kasagia]

Right hand II

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: After you miraculously escaped from his arms the other night, you tried to stay away from him as best as you could. You have to put a lot of effort into escaping from the na-baron, who is tirelessly and constantly chasing you, or into avoiding another invitation to his chambers late at night. However, on Arrakis, the situation between you changes drastically... And you're losing control over your life, and it's not because of Feyd. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART I ~•♤♤♤•~ PART III ~•♤♤♤•~

You are standing in front of the window of the ship that is taking you to Arrakis. You nervously play with the edge of the shawl that covers your head. You don't have good memories of that planet. Before you escaped with Feyd, the Bene Gesserit sent several of their young apprentices to… train in the sands of Dune. Including you.

You still remember the screams of some of your companions who went crazy from a lack of water and decided to end their lives. And sometimes at night you dream that the sandworm swallows half of your group, leaving you practically on your own.

Arrakis didn't just kill your friends. It killed any belief in the Bene Gesserit in you, only confirming that you would rather die than be completely subject to them.

And now you're going back there with someone who had full control over your life again. It's funny how history likes to come full circle. And how, despite their repetition, people still fall for tricks and fall into fate's traps, acting in exactly the same way.

A cold hand on your bare shoulder snaps you out of your stupor. You act fully automatically,drawing the dagger attached to your belt and twisting the attacker's arm. You pin him to the wall, placing the blade against his pale neck. You freeze as your eyes meet Feyd's icy blue gaze.

"Good reflex. If you were anyone else, I'd kill you for this, but I'm in a particularly good mood today, so I won't punish you as I would like. What were you thinking about, my little witch, that you didn't hear me sneaking up on you? Or maybe I have finally surpassed the master?" He asks with a mocking smirk, showing off his black teeth. You snort, shaking your head at him.

"Keep dreaming." You say, taking advantage of his amusement. This time, you are not keeping your mouth shut for fear that he will deprive you of your tongue for your boldness towards him. You move away from him, which he takes with clear displeasure, and return to your place by the window.

"If I dream about you, I prefer to dream about something much more pleasant." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. He slides your shawl off your head with his teeth and nuzzles his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent.

You feel him sigh deeply, leaning against you a little as he relaxes into your scent and closeness. You frown, but let him hold you because you feel calmer having him close to you. Despite everything that had happened in the past two weeks, you still found his presence reassuring. It didn't make any sense to you, but apparently, over the years, you had begun to involuntarily associate him with something akin to a safe shelter. Herkonnen. A psychopathic, bloodthirsty future baron. How ironic…

However, being in his arms helped you come to the conclusion that the demons of the past should remain in the past. And you should focus on the newest one that is now wrapped around you.

You stare at your reflection in the glass, shuddering as his scent surrounds you, mixed with the blood that stains his uniform. You wonder which soldier you will have to find a replacement for this time.

"What were you thinking about?" He whispers that he doesn't loosen his grip on you even for a moment, knowing full well that the moment he does, you'll wriggle out of his arms and find another excuse to leave him.

You checked the condition of engines and fuel 8 times. He started counting after the ship's captain complained to him about your constant presence. He beheaded him without giving him the opportunity to complete his complaint against you. Feyd smiles, remembering the irritated frown on your forehead when you had to clean up his mess. Of course he followed you then. Of course, 'just to make sure that the next captain you appoint will be more competent'.

"It doesn't matter." You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. He would enjoy your submission and willing closeness if he didn't see that, by doing so, you only wanted to distract him from the main topic. Clever little witch you were…

"It must be important if you stopped paying attention to your surroundings. You are always alert and aware of the things that happen around you. No matter what. I remember how, during one of our escapades, you were the only one who didn't fall into the trap."

"Well, that one was actually obvious." You say it with a mocking smile, remembering how you had to save him and his soldiers.

For the rest of your life, you will never forget how you had to dig Baron Feyd-Rauth Harkonnen out of the mud and save his ass from the Assassins who planned his execution. Of course, he killed any witnesses, leaving only you and him alive. After all, his uncle and brother couldn't find out about it.

He growls in your ear, tightening his grip on you as a warning, when you make him replay that day in his head.

"Don't brag now. I was… busy observing something much more interesting than muddy swamps." He grumbles, burying his face in the crook of your neck. The warm air he exhales makes you shiver.

"Which was?" You ask shakily, placing your hands over his to stop him from roaming them over your body.

"You." His answer is short and simple, as if it were the most obvious thing you should know. He doesn't hide it anymore; he doesn't keep his desire to himself. He wants you. He craves you. He shows it to you so clearly and thoroughly that you laugh at how naive you were to believe that you had only a friendly, platonic relationship. But how could you not believe that he only saw you as a means to an end when he treated everyone else around him like that? Since he treats people like things to play with and break whenever he wants? How could you have predicted that you would become his obsession, a precious jewel in his collection that he would want to protect and have just for himself? "I'm asking for the last time. What were you thinking about, little witch?" He asks, wrapping his hand around your neck and forcing you to look into his eyes.

You have no escape from him now. And you certainly won't tell him that lately you've been thinking more and more often about how to run away from him, or what would happen if you stayed with the Bene Gesserit, or how your life would have looked if you escaped from them on your own. You wonder if it wouldn't have been better to bury yourself in the sands of Arrakis all those years ago with your friends and die there. You are sure that it would be a much more dignified death.

"I... I thought about Arrakis." You decide to respond safely and carefully, so as not to reveal too much to him. You didn't want him to become suspicious of you. Not when you had to handle him carefully, lest you fulfil any of the Bene Gesserit's sick plans and visions.

"So what about this? Are you scared?"

"No. I am not. I'm never afraid. Fear is the mindkiller. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration." You repeat the mantra automatically without thinking much about it.

You flinch as you realise that you are answering quickly with the Bene Gesserit litany of fear, which they've made you learn by heart. A great deal of anger grows within you as you realise how much they have influenced your life, even so many years after you ran away from them.

"You're quite tense. More than when I usually hold you." He points this out, starting to gently stroke your back in an attempt to relax you. You give him an angry look instead, suddenly understanding why he was irritated with you for reading him and his emotions perfectly when he was the one who was flustered and furious.

It was always easier for you than for him to hit sensitive places or to read the other one like an open book. Apparently, you're not the only one who's learned this over the years. He knew you as well as the back of his hand. He just never showed any trace of concern for your well-being.

You had your… tender moments when you allowed yourselves to be vulnerable with each other once or twice, but you both treated them more as minor lapses in maintaining your impenetrable façade of indifference and neutrality. In the end, everyone is on their own. And looking for a friend in him was a completely stupid thing—an act of true naivety and a sign of self-destruction, maybe even masochism.

"Maybe you shouldn't hold me at all, then?" You growl at him furiously, unable to control yourself. He just frowns, more surprised by your behaviour than offended by this blatant act of disrespect. He had rarely seen you so nervous or furious.

Of the two of you, you were the one who was the most calm and composed. You were always able to hide all your emotions behind a mask of indifference. He's fascinated by how you really behave when you don't have a filter on. He often throws you off your balance only to see your cheeks flush with anger; you take out your anger in a fight (just like him); or you bite your lip to avoid saying something back to his taunts.

"Or maybe you should drop your attitude and just let me do it?" He asks, his lips brushing against your earlobe. He doesn't wait for your response; he simply catches the tip of your ear between his teeth. He bites in gently, sucking and caressing your skin with his lips, as if your ear's superior helix were the sweetest delicacy he could enjoy.

"I'm not fighting or trying to escape, am I?" You respond, enduring his treatment with dignity. At the ship's window, you can see a small smile appear on his lips at your words.

He decides to pull away from you, but he is not giving you even the smallest chance to run away from him. He presses you against the cold glass, entering your personal space even more than when he had you close against his chest. You lift your chin, looking at him defiantly as he puts his hands on your hips.

"You are not. But you also don't want to be here in my arms." He replies, cupping your chin with two fingers. He leans closer, making you feel the metallic scent of blood that still lingers on him, probably from his fight with some prisoners on the ship. "And I don't like it at all." He whispers hoarsely into your ear.

"Since when do you care what others want? I don't remember you spoiling your concubines like that." You snap, causing him to laugh mockingly and shaking his head in amusement.

He leans in, making you tense up slightly. You think he's doing it to kiss you, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, you feel his cheek brush against yours, and his lips blow hot air into your ear again as he whispers softly:

"Because they weren't you, Y/N." You shiver at the sound of his dark, hoarse whisper in your ear. You can't say you don't feel the effects of his... seduction. But you promised yourself long ago that you wouldn't be any man's whore, concubine, plaything, or broodmare. And certainly not HIS. No matter how... tempting he could be.

"And what is so special about me? Hm? My body? My appearance? That I can fight well? You would get bored of me. Like you did with all your concubines."

"Did they understand me like you do? Have you ever seen them look at me as anything other than a wild, bloodless beast in the heat?" He answers your angry questions with his, dismissing your attempt to start a verbal fight with him.

His thumb traces the line of your jaw, examining you closely. Looking into his light blue eyes makes you feel uncomfortable. He shouldn't have reacted to you like that. You weren't used to anything he had been doing these past few weeks. You preferred to fight him than... when he showed you so much tenderness, appreciation, and affection.

"Have I ever looked at you differently?" You ask defiantly. He smiles, licking his plump lips. You give in to this provocation, and, without controlling it at all, you move your gaze to his lips. His dark chuckle makes you look back into his eyes.

"Yes. Yes, you did that... you don't even know how often." He hums, his fingertips moving towards your mouth. He caresses your lips with incredible tenderness and delicacy. He presses on them gently, but you squeeze them as tight as you can, preventing him from doing anything he planned.

You react faster than him. You bite his wandering fingers, take advantage of the fact that he is still trying to process what has just happened, and quickly pull away from him. He laughs, shaking his head, looking at you intently as he deliberately crosses the distance between you two. He doesn't have to say anything for you to see how clearly he's mocking you and daring you to continue to defy him.

"We're not even on Arrakis yet, and you're already delusional, my na-Baron? Or maybe the black sun of Giedi Prime made you start seeing a mirage?"

"If you are a mirage or an illusion, then I never want to be sane again, my little witch." You gasp, as he wraps his arms around you tightly, clinging to you completely. He leans in, his nose tracing a line along your temple, inhaling your scent before burying his face in your hair.

He keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. You place your hands on his, trying to loosen his tight grasp somehow, but it only makes him hold you tighter. He tilts his head slightly and brushes his nose against yours.

You shiver, feeling how close he is and how his musky smell, mixed with a hint of metallic blood, surrounds you. He presses himself against you so tightly that there's practically no space left between your bodies. You close your eyes, letting out a small, shaky breath. And just as he's about to press his lips against yours, the metal door to the room slides open with a loud bang.

You jump away from him, grunting as a young recruit enters your field of vision.

“My lord na-Baron. Lady Y/N. We will land in fifteen minutes."

"We would rather notice it ourselves." Feyd growls at him. You see him reach for the hidden dagger. You walk over to him, resting your chest against his back, and grab his hand before he places it on his dagger and throws it at the poor man.

"Thank you, Oliver." You say with a smile. The man swallows in fear at Feyd's furious glare. He bows and leaves the two of you alone.

You step away from Feyd, letting go of his hand. You frown, seeing that he's even more furious than when one of the soldiers entered. You raise your eyebrow questioningly, not understanding why he's practically huffing in anger now.

"What?" You finally ask him, not understanding the reason behind his behaviour.

"Oliver... do you call all of them by their names?" He asks, spitting out the soldier's name in disgust. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you reach for the shawl he had thrown off you and put it back on your head.

"If I know them, then yes, why?"

"You've never called me anything other than my lord and na-baron." He speaks in an almost accusatory tone. It takes a lot of strength in you not to burst out laughing when you realize he's completely serious and not joking right now. You try to come up with some excuse, wondering how to safely answer his question.

"And you always call me your little witch." You answer. Using his name somehow never felt right to you. At first, out of respect for him, maybe even fear. After all, he saved you from the clutches of the Bene Gesserit. Calling him by his name was out of the question. With time, you did it out of habit. And now… now you didn't want to call him by anything else because you knew that it would be a small step on his way to make you his.

"So this is supposed to be our thing?" He asks with a challenging, teasing smile.

"We don't have a thing." You huff, walking towards the exit. He, of course, follows you faithfully. You can feel the excitement radiating from him. He was definitely planning something big to do on Arrakis. Something he didn't tell you. You just hoped that he would be too busy with his brother and securing the spice mine to take care of you at the same time.

"Don't we?"

"You should focus on what you tell your brother. You're finally taking the reins. Rabban won't give them to you that easily. And we need to establish a final plan of action on Arrakis." You say, returning to your matter-of-fact, cool tone. He smiles, nodding.

"Don't worry about that… I'll make him kiss our shoes." You snort, shaking your head in amusement at his words. It might be true, but it's still hard for you to imagine him actually putting this plan into action. As you'll see in a few minutes, he actually intended to do that. "And the plan was decided a long time ago. I told you I wouldn't let us split up. And not because I question your leadership skills or loyalty. You are the only competent and worthy person to lead half of my army. But we, little witch, work together. Always. You don't change something that works perfectly. Get ready. We're landing soon." He leaves you with a quick kiss on your temple.

He walks away from you with a sly smirk, as if he's managed to trick you. You sigh as you watch him walk out of sight, walking with a spring in his step towards his room, probably to grab his things and get his harpies ready to leave.

You look out the ship's window at Arrakis for the last time. You close your eyes, promising yourself that since the Bene Gesserit, Feyd Rautha, Giedi Prime, or the Harkonens hadn't killed you, this damn planet wouldn't do this either. You weren't the same Y/N from 10 years ago. You were more powerful. Your bones won't sink into the sands of this damn dune... you'd even rather become the mother of that Kwisatz Haderach.

You practically jump out of bed with your heart beating fast as you wake up from another nightmare. You sigh shakily, pressing your hand to your mouth, trying to calm your breathing as best as you can as your heart pounds frantically against your chest.

The screams of your companions echo in your ears, and the images of the Fremen pumping the water out of them replay in your head. And that damned sandworm...

“Y/N, look at me.” His cool hands on your bare shoulders and his raspy, commanding tone bring you back to reality.

As soon as you look into Feyd Rautha's blue irises, you stop trembling. You snap out of this strange trance, trying your best to forget about the returning memories that haunted you more often during this week of your stay on Caladan. You suspect that this may have resulted in a rather close relationship with Lady Jessica. You breathe slowly, focusing on his pale skin that looks like snow, illuminated by the moonlight that streams through the window of one of the Caladan's inns.

“Breathe in and out.” He gives you another order. You nod, imitating the pace of his slow breathing as you slowly begin to calm down. "I will kill that witch as soon as I get my hands on her." He growls, brushing your sweaty hair away from your forehead with his hand. You see immense anger in his eyes and the seeds of a plan forming in his head as he thinks of many ways to make that Bene Gesserit pay for your nightmares.

"You can't. She's the prince's mother. Besides, it's not her fault that she recognised me from somewhere. I could have been more careful."

"You covered your face with a mask for an entire week, all the time, even to sleep. What can you call that other than being careful? Besides, the baron knew that these negotiations were doomed to failure anyway. It's not like her suspicions ruined them. I would have decided to leave this damned palace even without it." He assures you, slowly lowering the two of you back onto the mattress. He wraps one arm around you, his tight embrace grounding you in the moment and helping your mind focus entirely on the present rather than the dark memories from your past.

"The Baron will be furious with you. It's all my fault. You should have killed me." You say, focusing your gaze on his daggers, which are strapped to his hip. Feyd follows your gaze and snorts. He grabs your neck, forcing you to lift your head and look into his eyes again.

"And get rid of the only competent right hand I've had in years? I'd rather suffer his punishment for this... small act of disrespect towards the Atreides. And who knows? Maybe he'll even like it? Harkonnen chooses inns over Atreides' palaces. I can always say that I saw rats running freely around my chamber and decided that such conditions are not worthy of a na-Baron and they are an insult to my person that I could not allow them to do." You roll your eyes at him, but you can't help but smirk at him.

Feyd finds himself smiling slightly at the sparkle of amusement in your eyes. He decided he preferred seeing them in your eyes rather than the emptiness and terror that didn't even let you breathe normally. He reveled in the fear of others. But yours brought him more pain than joy. Unpleasant pain.

It was starting to worry him. And maybe he would think about it more if you weren't lying so close to him now, practically in his arms. At his fingertips if he wanted to play with you. But, surprisingly, he didn't. And even if so, he wanted it only if you were as desperate for his touch as he was for yours.

"There are also rats on Giedi Prime. And you have to share a room with me because there's not enough space here for all of us. I'm sure your harpies are furious. You'd probably rather do something else with them, too, than hold me through my nightmares like some scared little child." You tease him, snapping him from his thoughts. He looks at you carefully, admiring the way the beads of sweat on your forehead glisten in the moonlight.

He feels a strange, new desire to make them be caused by him... or rather, by the activity he would subject you to. His gaze returns to your eyes and your lips, and he feels himself harden slightly as his thoughts turn to fantasies about you—something he's been doing a lot more of lately. One of his harpies mentioned something about him moaning your name...

"Maybe you actually deserve this punishment? Such sharp language…" He whispers huskily, tracing the line of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. He watches you carefully, and, as usual, he sees no fear in your eyes. Even when his fingers travel to your neck and then to the fabric of your nightgown, imagine how close he is to touching what you hide from him and everyone else behind your outfits designed to fit you into staying in the shadows and fighting. If he could, he would dress you in the most beautiful silks and jewellery so that he could feast his eyes on the only beautiful view of Giedi Prime. You see a crease form on his forehead as he becomes aware of this strange desire. He removes his hand before he goes too far to come back, and he clears his throat as he focuses his gaze on your eyes again. "What was that? That dream?"

"I... I don't want to talk about it." Feyd feels how you tense up just thinking about your nightmare. If it was anyone else, he wouldn't care. He wouldn't spare a thought or, if he was curious enough, force them to talk. But with you... he just nods and gives you space, turning to lay on his side of the bed.

"Feyd..." His heart beats faster after you use his name for the first time. He turns to your side of the bed so he can fully look at you. He hums, pretending that you're not giving him a heart attack and that he's not replaying the soft, gentle tone with which you said his name in his head. And he wants to hear it again. In many ways. A quiet whisper, a cry, a scream of pleasure as he makes you come... "I... can you..."'

He doesn't wait for you to ask him. And he could. He could make you beg for him to bring you the comfort you need or mock you for being so defenceless and scared, but how can he make you do that when you look at him with those doe eyes? How can he do anything other than pull you into his chest, place his hand on your head, and play with your hair, guiding your face into the crook of his neck as you look at him like no one has ever done before? 

He wasn't the type of man you turned to for comfort or solace, and yet here you were, lying next to him, just wanting to feel his safe embrace around you again. He smiles when he feels your breathing and pulse slow as you fall asleep against him, allowing him to be with you in your unconscious state. He could do many things to you. He could slit your throat, stab you in the heart, scalp you of all your beautiful hair, and touch and taste any part of you he wanted. Satisfy himself with you and give yourself to his concubines when he ends using you.

But all he can do, as you sleep so peacefully on his chest, is pull the covers tighter around you and place a gentle kiss on your head. He doesn't remember the last time he felt such peace or the last time he felt wanted—not because of his status or the benefits he could bring to someone, but simply because someone wanted to be close to HIM.

"After all… I guess Caladan isn't that bad, my little witch." He whispers, pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

Feyd liked to think that the moment you first said his name and clung to him after the nightmare for comfort and security (IN HIM) was the moment he fell for you. But the truth was that it was a day later, after his uncle had punished him, inflicting various wounds with a blade on him, that you returned to the Giedi Prime without the expected agreement with Atreides. And, of course, he didn't rat you out. He took the blame. After all, it was his fault. He put your well-being above anything else and ordered to leave Caladan when Lady Jessica became too attentive to you. And he would do it again. He couldn't lose his right hand.

You felt guilty and took care of him. And those few days when you played the role of his nurse were the best ones in his life.

Feyd learned to love pain. Numerous punishments made it impossible for him not to do that. But he loved your gentle touch even more, esepcially when you tried your best to heal him. And he could get a thousand cuts or even more if it was the price of feeling your tender, caring touch on his skin once again.

And lying there with a torn back, looking at your sleeping form next to his bed, ready to meet his every little wish; he promised himself that he would do it. He will feel your hands on his body again. In better, less bloody circumstances. And definitely not with worry staining your beautiful eyes. But desire. Passion. Affection. Maybe even love.

"Uncomfortable, my lord?" You mock him with a little smirk as you both lie on the sand, observing the surroundings.

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You huff, shaking your head at his words. You know it's the last thing he'll actually do at this point. You use your binoculars to zoom in on a specific sand dune, in the middle of which there should be a Fremen base.

"Someone woke up with his left foot. I thought you'd be more enthusiastic about the upcoming fight." You say, trying to spot any movement, silhouette, or anything that indicates that your informant was right, and this is the place where one of the more important sietches are.

"I am. But it's damn hot here. Besides, sand gets in where it shouldn't." You smile, barely holding back your laughter, as Feyd allows himself to grumble next to you. You squeal in shock as he spanks you. You look away from the dune and give him an offended, shocked look when he chuckles hoarsely at your reaction.

"You're lucky that it's just a desert and that you're not dressed all in black like our soldiers. If this shipment of new equipment, weapons, and uniforms does not arrive this week, I will return to Giedi Prime and slaughter these useless scientists and engineers. Besides, your harpies will probably be more than happy to help you get rid of every little grain of sand from your body."

"Jealous?" He asks as you go back to watching the dunes.

"I wouldn't willingly be around these cannibals even if you paid me." You say, ignoring the fact that he was clearly asking if you were jealous of HIM, not the fact that he has his concubines and you don't. You shiver, feeling his piercing, burning gaze on you.

You're a little annoyed that he's doing practically nothing. Apparently, he too must have felt the effects of spending many weeks in that damn desert, and he had enough. Just like all of you.

"Arrakis brings out your more feisty side… I like it." He takes the binoculars from you and looks in a completely different direction. You snort, trying to see what caught his eye. You frown as you see a sandworm scurrying in the distance. But it wasn't under the sand... "Tell squad six to kill it. Those rats must be moving around again."

"Will you waste the bomb on a sandworm?"

"Only the most important Fremen travel like this. Whoever's on the back of this is not just anyone." You nod. You turn on the communicator and share information with the group, giving them the orders. You feel Feyd's eyes focused on you all the time. You roll your eyes and shift your gaze to his as he continues to stare at you curiously.

"What?"

"You've been here before, right? You may not know the ways of the Fremen, but I can see in your eyes that this planet is no stranger to you."

"The Bene Gesserit prepared us for every circumstance." You answered him deceptively. However, this does not quench his curiosity. And you know that since you're doomed to wait here for a good hour before anything happens, you're doomed to keep him entertained.

"Did they send you to Giedi Prime too?"

"No. But I was often send to Caladan." You say, not realizing how bad a move it was. The wrinkle on his forehead and the gentle tightening of his hand on his blades prove to you what an idiot you are. But you can't keep an eye on the dunes and anticipate his mood swings at the same time. Which he's had quite a lot of since you came to Arrakis. He didn't show it to anyone else, but you could see that the heat was bothering him just as much as it was for all of you.

"Why? Breeding program? Don't tell me you were supposed to be Atreides' pet." He spit out from his mouth the names of the people who were his family's greatest nemeses, as if it were some kind of dead poison. Even though the Atreides were long dead, buried in the sands of Arrakis, he still talked about them with huge hostility.

No. I was supposed to be your pet.

"I don't know." You slide off the sand to get out of sight of your possible opponents. There's no point in observing the area now. You know that your best men and their troops are positioned around you, so you could have left them to make the first attack. For now, you had to defuse a bomb that was about to explode next to you.

"You don't talk about it often. About the Bene Gesserit." He pursues the topic further, following in your footsteps. You both are standing on a small ledge, with your backs pressed against a sandstone. You don't have much space, so you have to rest your arm on his so as not to fall down and crash into the rocks below you.

"I don't want to remember it. I have another life now. Better one." You say, fiddling with your communicator. You issue a surveillance order to the rest of your units and turn it off, waiting for them to notice something. You take the shawl off your head and wipe your sweaty forehead with it.

"I won't let them hurt you again. Or anyone else." You freeze for a moment at his words. All you can do is stare at him in shock as he reaches for your face and grabs your hair. He ties them awkwardly, making sure they don't get in your face. It's a sweet gesture... even too sweet for him. And you wonder how the hell he knows how to tie someone's hair back.

You are about to tie your shawl around your forehead again when Feyd suddenly takes it from you. He wipes the back of your neck and makes sure there isn't a single bead of sweat on your face before he ties your shawl around his wrist.

"Who said they hurt me?" You ask, swallowing. You try to hide the tremble in your voice, but you suddenly become very aware of how close you are to each other. And that you two are completely alone...

"Your eyes and actions tell me more than you can let through your mouth, little witch."

"Shut up, or I'll put you over my knee." You respond with what he told you earlier without thinking much about it.

You gasp in shock as he presses you against the sandstone behind you, guiding the two of you deeper. His dilated pupils, slightly clenched jaw, and rapid breathing confirm how fucked up you are. You've lost your damn guard. Again. And now he will use it to his advantage.

"Oh, my darling little witch… you don't know how much I want you to do this…" He growls in your ear. His nose traces a path from your hair to your neck, inhaling your scent. You shiver as his lips brush against your neck.

"What are you doing?" You moan as he sucks your neck and bites it lightly, leaving a hickey there. He moves his head away from you and looks at the trail he created. He hums lightly, planning where to leave the next one. And another one. And another. And another...

"Shhh... We have a few minutes before they stop bombarding them. Another few before the dust settles and before we enter those rats' canals... let me make sure that my right hand is properly relaxed in the meantime."

As usual, he doesn't give you time to respond. He leans down and captures your lips in a passionate kiss. His chapped lips brush against yours, gently urging you to open your mouth for him. You try to tighten them as best you can, but he somehow manages to bite your lip, which makes him immediately clear the way for his tongue.

You gasp as his hands cup your ass. His fingers dig into your flesh, and you know that if it weren't for the thick tactical suit, it would have left bruises in the shape of his fingers. He picks you up without breaking the kiss and presses you against the stone-sand wall of the small cave.

You moan as his bulge rubs against your clothed core. You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding yourself up as he peppers your neck with hickeys, grinding against you.

On Giedi Prime, you would struggle with him, trying to break free from his grip. But here, while you've been busy planning, tracking, fighting, and increasing your spice production for the last few weeks, you haven't had any opportunity... to take care of yourself. He wasn't helping either, following you around and acting like a fucking guard dog. And from what you heard from your room next to his in the night, he wasn't denying himself anything. Damn bastard.

What you didn't know was that he was fucking his fist thinking about you all this time because, since the two of you shared a bath, none of his concubines have been able to please him. So he's just as desperate as you are.

You moan as he thrusts into you, especially hard. He also purrs against your neck at the sounds you make. You're well aware that if it didn't take you forever to put your clothes back on, he'd already have you naked beneath him, fucking you wildly and giving you orgasm after orgasm... and you almost want to let him. If only those fucking witches weren't planning on breeding you with him, you would have been riding him wild a long time ago.

At one point, he bites into your neck, making you scream uncontrollably. You blush furiously when he pulls away from your neck with your blood on his full lips and gives you a hungry, lustful look.

"Take off your pants." He orders you. He licks the blood from his lips and leans down to lick the rest from your neck, leaving a few more hickeys on it.

"We… can't… we... battle..." He suddenly stops making any movements, but instead of moving away from you, as you think he will, he grabs you tightly by the throat. He squeezes lightly and leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. He breathes deeply and heavily, nuzzling his nose against yours before opening his eyes to fix his wide pupils on yours.

"Are you defying me?" You shake your head, always being a good soldier. "Good girl. Pants down, or I'll rip them off, and you'll have to walk back to the base without them."

This is a very real threat. And even though you know he would rather kill any man who dares to look at you in this state than expose you to the… lust of the hundreds of men who were on the base, you have no desire to parade around Arrakis with your bare ass. You start to take off your pants, slowly unbuttoning them. He won't even let you take them off of you all the way. As soon as he sees your exposed pussy, he drops to his knees in front of you, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"She blocks me so much when she has a damn spring between her legs… a real desert oasis…" He mumbles, his fingers collecting your wetness. You gasp as he looks you straight in the eye, sucking your juices from his finger. You lick your lips unconsciously, your brain completely stunned by the suddenness of the situation, the lust overwhelming you, the sight of him on his knees for you, as well as the spice in the air.

You don't even protest when he licks the stripe of your pussy and tightens his grip on your hips, pressing his face against your crotch. As he begins to lick and suck on your more sensitive parts, you scratch his scalp with your nails in a vain attempt to grab something. His dark, raspy chuckle against your clit makes you even wetter, as the vibrations and fingers teasing your entrance only fuel your desire.

He eats you like he's really dying of thirst. He brings out in you sounds that you would be ashamed of if you were in a better, saner, more aware state. And you try to maintain the last of your dignity and stifle your moans by placing a hand over your mouth, but he growls in protest and removes your hands so quickly that you have no idea when it happened. He places it on his shoulder, encouraging you to dig your nails into him as he devours you like his life depends on it. Like he would die if he didn't make you cum, lick up every last bit of wetness from between your legs.

At one point, he puts your leg over his shoulder. He's even closer to you (if possible), but you're not really paying attention to what he's doing as long as his mouth and fingers are still working their magic on you. You pull him closer, chasing your sweet release, when suddenly, he pulls away.

You growl in anger, opening your eyes. He's still on his knees in front of you, his face covered in your juices, and he's staring at you hungrily as if his face wasn't buried in your pussy moments ago.

"Say my name." His demand throws you off balance for a moment. You open your mouth to argue with him, to taunt him, but instead you close it quickly, biting your lip as his finger lazily moves in and out of your needy pussy. "Scream my name and I'll let you cum."

You don't want to give in to him like that. You don't want to show any weakness. But his fingers stretch you so wonderfully, hitting your most sensitive spot. You tremble around his fingers, biting your lip until it draws blood, too proud to admit to yourself how weak you were.

You escaped from the Bene Gesserit and from your fate to the only safe place; it's darkest under the lamp. No one in their right mind would willingly hide in the house of the man to whom you were supposed to submit. But it turned out that you were following the path these witches laid out for you anyway. But damn, he made you feel like you'd never felt with any man or woman...

You growl furiously as he removes his fingers again—right when you're finally about to come. He laughs hoarsely, sucking his fingers clean of your wetness.

"You're extending my fun, little witch. You must like it as much as I do." You protest as he dips his fingers inside you again, taking you close the edge again. You grab his neck, trying to pull him towards you, but he just laughs, intensifying the work of his fingers and fending off your feeble attempts to pull his face back to your needy cunt. "You know what you have to do to cum." He reminds you with a cocky smirk, watching your trembling, panting form.

Feyd drinks in the sight of you, so needy and desperate to orgasm. And it's all because of him. Every little moan, the closing of your eyes and the tilt of your head in pleasure, the ragged breathing, the quickening of your heartbeat, the wetness between your legs, the sweet nectar of the gods dripping down your thighs—it was all because of him. His cock hardens as he imagines how you'll react as he pounds into you like an animal in heat, stretching your tight walls for him. How you'll clench around his length and dig your nails into his back to feel him as close to you as possible. Or when you swell beautifully with his heir...

He will have you there. Willingly. He will prepare you as he is now; he will fuck out of you any thought until nothing except the desire for him remains.

"Feyd..." You moan as he unconsciously speeds up the movements of his fingers, thrusting them into you at breakneck speed. He smiles, blowing air at your pussy, making you moan even louder.

"Again." He demands, licking the small trail of your juices that has formed on your thighs. He welcomes the way you wet his hand and your shawl that was wrapped around his wrist. He'll save it for later this night.

"Feyd!" You pull on his head and he obliges. He couldn't be cruel to you in this state.

You come suddenly, quickly, and intensely. Your vision is blurry and unclear, and your blood is rushing through you as you moan loudly, holding on to him with all your might.

The next thing you know, he's holding you tightly by your trembling legs as he lowers you to his lap. You straddle him, hugging him tightly as you breathe slowly, trying to get back to a state of relative using after he fucked the orgasm of your life out of you. You hide your face in his neck, too disappointed in yourself to see the proud smirk on his face. He lazily rubs your back, holding you as you regain your strenght.

"You owe me, little witch. And you know, I always collect my debt." He growls hoarsely in your ear and presses a kiss on your temple. You can smell your scent on him. You blush, embarrassed, as you can feel desire rising in you again. "No response? Not a single malicious comment? Did I make you come so hard that now you are speechless? Are you really just a little mouse in need of my attention under that strong witch façade?"

"I'm not a fucking mouse." You snap at him in anger, finally coming to your senses.

"So that's the first one. Even better for me." He stands up, slowly carrying you from his lap to the ground. He reaches for your pants and helps you put them on. He grabs your hands and pulls you closer to him. You can't stand alone. You can't fucking stand alone. He laughs as he realises it, which irritates you to the point where you can't control yourself anymore.

"Shut up." You use your voice on him before you bite your tongue to stop yourself. Silence falls between you for a moment. You swallow, realising what you've done. You open your mouth to explain yourself, but, as usual, he beats you to it.

"Hmm… interesting. So you have that fire in you…" He tangles his hand in your hair and watches you closely, fascinated by the way you used your voice on him for the first time. "As sweet as I thought. Better than any water… Use that voice on me in a way I don't like, and I will really punish you, little witch. And this time, it will only be pleasant for me. Understood?" You nod your head with clenched teeth. "Good girl. Let's go. I believe they stopped dropping bombs right when you came on my face and fingers." He brags, letting you go when he sees you can stand on your own. You roll your eyes, realising how often he'll brag about it. You draw your blade and follow him, looking forward to hunting for Fremen.

You try to ignore the sand that… got where he was a few seconds ago and where he had it himself too. Damn bastard.

You walk through the corridors of your base. You're covered in blood, but it doesn't bother you much. Maybe a little when you remember that you will have to remove clotted blood from your hair. You sigh, adjusting the scarf around your neck that you took from some fremen to hide the hickeys as you walk to the war room to give new orders to the soldiers.

The Sietch has been completely destroyed by you. You murdered most of the fremen, and those left alive were taken prisoner... or to the camp brothel. You preferred not to go into details.

As you walk through the halls, you hear rustling behind you. You take a few slow steps and turn around, with your hand on your dagger, only to see na-Baron's harpies. You tense up as you watch the three women carefully and distrustfully.

"How can I help you?" You ask them, trying to avoid showing them genuine disgust and hostility. After all, they had somehow kept Feyd away from you… for now.

"The little witch is in trouble…"

"Our master will be very angry with her…"

"Maybe he'll even let us suck her bones when he's done with her…"

They say one by one, tilting their heads as they observe you. You shiver slightly, but you quickly adopt a hostile, intimidating stance, not caring much about what they say. They may have been cannibals, but you were a trained soldier and killer. You would kill them in a heartbeat if they weren't useful to you in some way.

"What do you want, vultures?" You growl at them, expecting them to get scared and return to their master's chamber, waiting for him like faithful dogs.

"The little witch's friend is here…"

"Our master is interrogating her…"

"And he learns very interesting things about the witch."

"When he's done with her, he'll be ours again."

"We will eat her meat and feast, celebrating our victory."

And what really should scare you more is the part about them saying they're going to eat you, but all you can think about is that friend he's interrogating. Another Bene Gesserit? Impossible. You made sure that everyone who came into contact with you either believed you were dead or forgot that you existed. Except for one… No. No, that wasn't possible.

"I have the blood of hundreds of rats on me. Get out of my sight unless you want yours to adorn my armor. And believe me… I will do it with great pleasure. I bet your master would fuck me on your corpse as a reward." You snap at them, still processing what may have been happening in the interrogation room. If your suspicions were true... you didn't even want to think about it. This couldn't be happening. You're paranoid. After so many years of keeping everything a secret... you couldn't lose control that easily.

You pay them no further attention and continue walking, ignoring their hisses and mocking laughter as you change your plans and head to the interrogation room.

You had to run away. As far away from here as possible. But if you do, he will chase after you. And when he finds you, and there is no doubt that he will, he will gut you and throw your remains to his harpies.

So you couldn't escape. You had to face him and try to tame him somehow. But how the hell are you going to explain to him that you ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be his concubine? Maybe a few years ago he would have understood it, but now that he has found this strange obsession with you, how could you get out of this situation? He'll cut you up before you even try to say anything.

You pass soldiers standing at the door of the interrogation room. They nod at you, letting you in as you hesitantly walk over to see for yourself if the situation is actually as dire as you think.

You feel the cold metal door on your back as it closes behind you with a bang. You freeze in place, swallowing nervously, as you see the Fremen Reverend Mother handcuffed to a chair. What scares you much more than the fact that it is really a Bene Gesserit is that it's Lady Jessica. Your former trainer in that sick sisterhood.

Feyd is standing right in front of her. His hands are gripped tightly around his daggers, and his gaze is focused on the woman in front of him. He strokes the blade of his dagger with his thumb as he is lost in his thoughts. He behaved as if he were completely oblivious to you, but you know him better than to even think for a while that he didn't notice your entrance. But he doesn't say anything as he continues to stare at her intently.

"She can tell you that herself. Right, Y/N?" Lady Jessica looks at you, raising an eyebrow defiantly. Even captured, she looks proud, as if she were the one who had power over what was happening in the room. "I should thank you. If it weren't for you, Paul would never have taken over the Kwisatz Haderach's way. No matter how hard I tried..."

"Feyd…" You ignore her and walk over to Harkonnen. You place a hand on his shoulder, but he just flinches at your touch, moving away from you. His eyes were fixed on the floor; he wasn't giving you even a single glance.

"I'm not surprised. If they sent me to breed with such a monster, I would also run away... not necessarily into his arms, but I really admire your skillful mind. To come up with such intrigue. No one would ever imagine that a little scared girl would run straight into the lion's mouth to take shelter there. I remember how you cried down my skirt when you found out what your mission was. I never would have imagined that my apprentice would go so far."

"Silence!" You shout at her, using the voice, and surprisingly, you succeed. You don't have time to try to understand what just happened—that you used your voice against a much stronger woman than you, the Reverend Mother. You walk up to Feyd and cup his cheek with your hand, forcing him to look at you.

His gaze is blank. He's wearing his mask, blocking out any emotions that might get through and reveal what he's thinking. He takes your hand and moves it away from his face, pushing you away from him like a bug.

"Would you like to see a monster, concubine of the Atreides? I'll be more than happy to show you one…" Before either of you can react, Feyd swings, creating a long gash across her chest. The woman gasps in shock, placing her hand on her wound, from which blood is now flowing down on the floor.

Before you can take a breath to talk some sense into him, he plunges the blade into her chest. You tremble as you hear the sound of cracked bones under the movement of his dagger and the witch's screams.

You don't do anything. You just stand there, watching as Feyd takes out his anger on her, disembowelling her. The metallic smell of blood hits your nostrils, but even that doesn't cause you to react. All you can do is stand and watch. And wait for your turn.

You feel sick as Lady Jassica's screams remind you of your friends who died on Arrakis. You deny what's happening in front of you as your thoughts return to that fateful day.

You weren't sent to Arrakis to try to survive. No, the plan created by Bene Gesserit was much worse. You were sent there to kill each other. This sick test was intended to eliminate weak individuals, leaving only one Bene Gesserit alive, the one who was the strongest among the young generation of women trained by these mad witches.

You were sent on one ship, thrown into the desert with weapons and one bottle of water, as an act of mercy. There were fifty of you. You killed half of them. Or at least that's what the Reverend Mothers told you after the Sisterhood took you back from there..

You were the only one left alive.

From that day on, you promised yourself that you would never let them control your life or make you go through these tests again. You didn't want to take part in their sick games ever again. You preferred to die rather than become their tool again, a monster that blindly follows their orders.

You never wanted to feel powerless or furiously frustrated again.

And now, standing there and staring blankly as Feyd killed the woman who was your mentor in front of you, you felt as if you were once again that helpless girl who is forced to do as she is told and who has no power over anything that is happening around her.

You flinch as blood reaches your shoes. You look up to see Na-Baron turning towards you. Blood was dripping down his armour as he cleaned his blades on her clothes, which were already soaked in blood.

For a moment, you delude yourself, thinking that it's not what you think. That he didn't actually discover the truth about your past in the Bene Gesserit by accident. That everything will be all right, just how it used to.

But by the look in his icy-blue eyes, you know he knows. He gives you the same angry, bloodthirsty glare that he gives his victims moments before they die. But there's something else there. Pain. Betrayal. Without knowing why, you feel a flood of guilt wash over you, outweighing your fear. But you didn't owe him anything. No loyalty or sincere devotion.

You gasp as he pushes you against the wall and presses the knife to your neck, breathing heavily. You feel it gently pierce your skin, causing blood to leak from the wound and run down your neck. He doesn't move away. He doesn't bend down to lick it off your skin. He presses further and harder, looking straight into your eyes. And you don't know if he's just testing you or if he really wants to kill you.

Suddenly, fucking him wasn't the worst solution to the situation you found yourself in...

Part IIITaglist: (I hope that everyone is here...) @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13

[theemporium]

[5.1k] an off-putting interaction with a supposed fan leaves jack cursed and, somehow, you find yourself in the middle of it. because acting like your enemy's girlfriend to not aggravate a curse is totally normal, right?

[find other fright night specials here]

.

It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

If anything, that was an understatement about how the two of you felt about each other. It was one of those things that everyone knew: the sky was blue, the sun rose in the east and set in the west, and Jack Hughes was the bane of your fucking existence. 

You couldn’t quite remember a time when he wasn’t a pain in your ass. Since the day you joined the Devils team, the boy seemed to have it out for you and you returned the attitude. You were constantly at each other’s throats—much to the other boys’ entertainment—bickering and arguing and snapping. 

It was one of the safest bets you could make—especially on game days.

“Dude, I just had the weirdest fucking fan experience of my life!”

You didn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes, your attention focused on the clipboard in your hands rather than the boy who had barrelled over and interrupted you. “Jesus, I thought players were meant to be mellow and calm before a game.” 

“Maybe that’s just what they tell you because you’re boring,” Jack retorted, flashing you a smile that was as irritating as it was charming. “And I wasn’t even talking to you. I was talking—”

“To my patient,” you bit out, turning your attention back to Dawson who was looking between the two of you with a slightly awkward but apprehensive expression. “Now, like I was asking before we were interrupted, the tension in your—”

“She was so weird,” Jack continued on, his lips twitching when he noticed the heavy sigh you let out but he kept going, facing forward towards Dawson as his shoulder brushed against yours. “I was coming out of the carpark and—”

Dawson’s nose scrunched up. “She was in the player carpark?”

“Yes!” Jack exclaimed, his eyes widening. “That’s what I’m saying, she already snuck in there and then she kept saying something but I couldn’t understand a word. So, I tried to politely—”

You snorted.

“—tell her that I was running late,” Jack continued, shooting you a quick but dirty look as he did. “But then she just started muttering to herself and waved her hands at me before walking away.” 

“Sounds like you broke a sweet old woman’s heart,” Dawson commented, grinning a little when Jack smacked his arm.

“Shut up,” Jack murmured, though his cheeks flushed pink in response. “I was already running late—”

“No surprise there,” you added.

“—I just didn’t have time,” Jack defended, once again shooting you a dirty look. “But it was weird, bro. She had some weird juju.”

Dawson pressed his lips together to hold back his laughter. “Juju?”

“Juju!” Jack repeated with a nod.

“I think you’re letting the guilt get to you, bro,” Dawson said, shaking his head in amusement. “You should head in to get ready for the game. Pretty sure Coach was asking Nico where you—”

“And you just let me stand here and talk?” Jack hissed, his eyes wide before he began rushing down the hallway towards the locker room. “What the fuck, Merc?!” 

“Always blaming everyone but himself,” you huffed, shaking your head. “Typical.”

Dawson grinned a little. “You know, people say that tension is a great aphrodisiac.” 

You shot him a blank look. “The only tension I am interested in is the kind in your muscles. Now, you gonna tell me how your hamstring is feeling or should I tell Coach to scrap you from the game?” 

Dawson quickly zipped his mouth shut.

…

It happened too fast for anyone to comprehend. 

There was five minutes left of the third period, the Devils were up one goal but it was still close. The Jets were putting up more of a fight than they anticipated, pulling moves and hits that were rough and dirty and tiring out the Devils far faster than they would have liked. 

Jack’s whole body was screaming, his heart pounding in his chest and his brain clinging onto the fact that it was almost over. Just a few more minutes until the final buzzer sounded, they just needed to make sure they didn’t let the other team score. That was all. Just tire them out in the last few minutes and they could clinch the win. 

He was so focused on thinking defensively, on thinking what would keep the Jets moving and chasing that he hadn’t even noticed the player barrelling towards him until it was too late. 

The referees blew the whistle too late, Jack’s whole body lurching with the hit as he felt himself get smacked up against the glass before he hit the ice. He felt as though someone had dunked his head underwater, his hearing muffled and his senses disoriented as he tried to scramble up onto his feet. As he tried to show that he was okay and he could keep playing. 

But the pain that ripped through his head when he tried to stand prevented him from doing so. 

“Give him space!” 

“Someone get the medics!” 

“Jack? You good?”

“He looks like he is gonna throw up!” 

Jack could feels hands on him. He could hear voices and he could hear the concern, even if he couldn’t lift his head to work out who was talking to him. He couldn’t do anything but groan and clench his eyes shut and hope that somebody would just make his head stop pounding.

He didn’t even remember how he got off the ice but he was grateful for the darkness in the medic room, the determination to finish the game as a win no longer at the top of his priority list. 

…

You knew the Devils took a chance on you when they offered you the job, but you liked to think you lived up to their expectations. 

You were fresh out of college, lost and intimidated and a degree in physiotherapy in your hands that you didn’t quite know what to do with. You had seen the opening in the Devils’ team by chance, and had applied for the sake of just having the experience of applying. You never considered getting an interview, or for them to like you. 

You never considered that they would take a chance on a student fresh out of college, offering a place under the current head of the team to shadow for a few years before fully taking over the position. 

But life had funny ways of working out and the job with the Devils was one of them.

You had been with the team for almost three years now. You were hardworking and diligent and you performed the roles of your job and beyond. You were a good employee. You knew you were. 

Which is why you were utterly baffled by the fact you were being dragged down the hallway instead of preparing your office for the players' cooldown massages and checkups. 

“What did I do? Are they angry at me? Was there a report I forgot to hand in?” You questioned the boy pulling you, nerves bubbling up in your stomach and you suddenly regretted the pretzel you ate during the second period. 

“No, no, it’s just—” Nico paused, his brows furrowing together. “I can’t really explain it. You just gotta see it.” 

“See what?” You questioned, your eyes darting over the boy’s shoulder to see him leading you towards the medic rooms. “Why are you bringing me here? Did someone pull something?” 

“It’s Jack,” Nico replied, like that explained anything.

“Did Jack pull something?” You asked, albeit a bit desperately. Your patience was already thin and the vague replies were starting to test you. “Nico, tell me what’s wrong? I thought Jack was just on concussion watch, Susan said—” 

“Just,” Nico paused outside the room, grimacing a little. “Just play along, yeah?” 

You opened your mouth, a dozen more questions on the tip of your tongue but it was that very moment the door swung open. 

“Baby, there you are! Where have you been?” 

You blinked, staring at Jack who was currently sitting up on one of the medic beds, grinning happily at you. Then your eyes shifted to the team doctor who looked sheepish, a similar expression shared by the coaching staff beside her. And finally, your eyes landed on Luke who was standing beside Jack’s bed, looking like he was seconds away from laughing (an expression you weren’t expecting on the brother of someone who took a very bad hit).

Nico cleared his throat, nudging you forward. “Found her!”

You stumbled forward, still utterly confused at the odd looks you were receiving from everyone in the room. “What? Was something broken in the hit or something?”

“Baby,” Jack groaned, though it sounded fond and sweet as he reached his hand out towards you. “Stop thinking about work for two seconds, will you? C’mere, I missed you. They said you were too busy to see me just after the hit.” 

You blinked. “Are you talking to me?” 

Jack raised his brows in amusement. “Is there another girlfriend I have that I’ve forgotten about?” 

“Girlfriend?” You repeated, your jaw almost hitting the ground. “I am—”

“Very much his girlfriend who loves him very much,” Nico interrupted, stepping forward and giving you a look you were starting to understand. “And who must be very concerned after he took that big hit that could have gone badly and could have affected his memory.”

Your lips parted slightly as everything clicked.

“Geez, Hisch, way to look at things in a glass half empty kinda way,” Jack laughed before lifting his hand out to you. “Baby, m’fine. Don’t listen to him.”

You had half the mind to shoot Luke a glare as you closed the distance between you and took Jack’s hand in yours, ignoring the snickering from the younger Hughes. You swallowed harshly, turning to look at the team doctor instead of Jack.

“So, doc, what’s the consensus?” 

The team doctor gave you a sheepish smile. “He’s been cursed.” 

You blinked. “Yeah, no shit.” 

“Shit, can you tell?” Jack frowned, lifting his other hand to touch his face. “Do I have warts on my face or something? Oh god, do you still think I’m hot?” 

“I—” You flashed him a slightly strained smile. “Still hot, babe.” 

“Oh, it gets better,” Luke mumbled under his breath. 

Jack beamed in response. 

“The hit should have been a standard hit, the Jets player wasn’t even skating fast enough to cause the…damage Jack is experiencing,” the doctor continued. “We suspected foul play and did a few additional tests. It seemed like Jack had a curse manifesting throughout the game but the brunt of the curse didn’t hit until mid-play. And whoever cursed him seemed to have it out for him because it took the environment around him and made it worse—hence, the Jets player’s hit seeming harder, the force he hit the glass and the pain caused by the hit.” 

You frowned. “So, what do we do? How do we…un-curse him?” 

“You can’t,” Luke jumped in, smiling far too wide for your liking. “Doc says we just have to let the curse play out.” 

“I hardly feel cursed,” Jack said dismissively. “What, a rough hit? That’s it? Some curse. Everything else is normal.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Until then,” the doctor continued. “I strongly advise doing anything that would…agitate the curse. It could make things worse. We got lucky with the…limited inconveniences.” 

Despite her cryptic words, you understood the message loud and clear. 

Play along and be his girlfriend until his memory returned to normal or else god knows what will happen.

You just wondered what you did to deserve being cursed along with him. 

…

“I bet it was that old lady before the game.”

You lifted your head to find Jack lounging on the massage bed in your office, staring at the ceiling as he continued to contemplate. You had mentioned to him that you needed to finish some paperwork before leaving for the day. 

You expected him to head back to his apartment with Luke, not stay behind with you.

Luke just cackled when Jack decided to stay with you. 

Your brows furrowed together. “Who?”

“The weird old lady that I told you and Dawson about before the game,” Jack said, turning his head to look back at you. “The one who I said had bad juju?” 

And of course he would remember that, just not the fact you weren’t his girlfriend.

Stupid curse. 

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, leaning back in your seat. “So, what? You didn’t take a photo with her and she curses you? Seems a bit harsh.” 

“Maybe she didn’t like the fact I told her I wasn’t available,” Jack teased, winking at you.

It took every tensed muscle in your body to stop you from scrunching your nose in response. 

“Seems likely,” you replied with a strained smile on your face once more. “Right, I’m done here. Do you want a lift back?” 

Jack laughed, pushing himself to sit up. “Yeah, unless you expect me to walk back to your place and meet you there.”

You froze. “You’re coming back to mine?”

“Duh,” Jack said, his brows furrowing a little at your reaction. “Like I do after every game, babe. This isn’t new. Are you feeling okay?” 

“Yeah, just—” You waved him off, focusing on tidying up your desk instead. “Tired. I think I slept badly.” 

“Aw, baby,” Jack cooed, and it was odd hearing it in a sweet, concerning way rather than the condescending tone you were used to. “S’fine, you’ve got me tonight. Bet you’ll sleep like a baby.” 

“Definitely,” you agreed, making a mental note to strangle Luke the next time he came in for a deep muscle massage.

…

“Uh, where’s your clothes?” 

Jack glanced over at you, that stupid grin on his face that still looked unbelievably fond. It felt wrong to be on the receiving end of it. 

“M’getting ready for bed,” he said simply. “I can’t sleep in a shirt, babe, you know this.” 

“Right, of course I do,” you nodded. “I was just testing you. Making sure you have no more memory problems.” 

“That’s sweet, babe, but I am okay,” Jack assured you, climbing under the covers and settling on the right side of the bed, like he somehow fucking knew you preferred the left. “The doc cleared me and I’ve felt fine since. You know I’d tell you if I felt like something was wrong.”

“Yeah, I just…worry,” you answered after a few moments, trying to calm the thoughts racing through your head as you climbed into the bed next to him. You kept telling yourself to relax, to just pretend like this was normal, to do what the doctor said and play along with the curse so it doesn’t get worse.

But it was hard to believe you were sharing a bed with the boy when he—mutually—hated your guts a few hours ago.

“C’mere,” Jack hummed, pulling you into his embrace with ease and ignoring the way your body seemed to tense at the contact between you both. “Just relax. It’s hockey, hits happen. You know that.” 

You swallowed. “Curses don’t, though.” 

“True, but we will get through that too,” Jack said with so much confidence. “We’re a team, remember? I’ve got your back and you’ve got mine.”

Your eyes widened as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“Mhm. A team. That’s us.” 

Jack grinned against your head. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, Jack.” 

…

You woke up the following morning to an empty bed.

For a moment, you thought the whole thing was a bad dream. You thought that it was some twisted nightmare your brain tormented you with, something that would haunt you for the next few days but ultimately forget. 

For a moment, you let out a sigh of relief. 

And then you heard a crash from the kitchen, followed by a familiar voice whispering ‘shit’ and realised it was not, in fact, a dream.

You weren’t even sure what you expected to find when you threw the covers off and quickly rushed towards the source of the noise. But finding Jack, half dressed, with two plates on the counter with a sizzling pan on the stove was not it. 

“Oh hey, you’re up,” he beamed once he spotted you lingering in the doorway. “We didn’t have much in the fridge, so we should probably do a grocery run soon. But I managed to whip up something edible.” 

You blinked. “You cook?”

Jack groaned but there was still a smile on his face. “Babe, I’m getting better. I only set the toaster on fire twice in the last few months!” 

You blinked again, your brain far too tired to even stay with the conversation.

“Your coffee is in the fridge,” Jack said, turning back around to focus on not burning whatever was in the pan. “I didn’t make it, so I promise it tastes good. It’s from that cafe down the road you like.”

You knew the cafe well. It was one of your favourites and one you frequently bought coffees from, especially before work. You knew it wasn’t the most shocking thing in the world that he knew of its existence, but the fact he somehow seemed to know it was your favourite and choose the correct order threw you off.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a sip of the iced coffee whilst Jack just grinned at you. 

“You’re snappy before coffee,” he teased. 

You shuffled towards the stools by the counter, settling down as you watched the boy closely, like somehow staring at him would reverse whatever curse that old lady put on him. It didn’t. Instead, you were just blatantly staring at the shirtless boy in your kitchen like he was an alien.

He almost felt like one, if you were being honest.

“So,” you spoke up after a few moments. “What are your plans for today?” 

Jack glanced over his shoulder, shooting you an odd look. “Are you sure you’re not the one who got hit last night? We have the charity event with the other boys, remember? The picnic in the park? Don’t tell me my date is bailing on me.”

You laughed nervously. “Of course not! Just…testing you again!”

“Well, you can chill with the tests,” he assured you, pressing another fucking kiss on your forehead that made you feel warm and gooey and confused as he placed your plate in front of you. “M’okay, baby, promise. Also, I promised Nico we would bring something so we should probably stop by some bakery and grab cookies, or something.” 

You only hummed in response, fighting the urge to blurt out the truth and somehow relieved that you wouldn’t have to be spending the day alone with him.

…

“You. Here. Now.” 

Luke blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at you. He pointed his finger towards himself and you could have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so desperate. 

“Yes, you, idiot. Hurry up.” 

However, Luke was a little bitch so he slowly made his way over to the tree you were currently hiding behind, a plate of finger foods in his hand that he was snacking away on. 

“Sup?” 

You stared at him blankly. “You’re already on thin ice.” 

“Aw,” Luke cooed, a teasing grin growing on his face. “Was the night with Jack that bad?” 

“He knows things!” You hissed under your breath, a bit more frantic that you would have preferred. “We need to find this fucking witch, I can’t do this anymore.” 

“It’s been less than twenty-four hours,” Luke pointed out.

“It’s freaky as fuck,” you retorted. “He knows things about me that a normal boyfriend would.” 

“Wow, it’s almost like magic,” Luke deadpanned.

“I hate you.” 

“Rude way to talk to your possible future brother-in-law,” Luke grinned, letting out a squeal when you pinched his side. “Ow, ouch! Okay! I’ll try to keep him away from you as much as I can.” 

You sighed. “Thank you.” 

…

It took twenty minutes before that plan flopped. 

Jack snuck off after an interview he had done with Luke for the Devils social media team, hardly giving his brother a chance to come up with an excuse to hang out on the other side of the park before he hunted you down. 

You almost screamed when a body flopped down on the blanket beside you, Jack’s grinning face in your line of vision as he settled his head on your lap. 

“Hey, stranger,” he greeted, lifting his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. “You’ve been quiet today.” 

“Just tired,” you said, the response almost automatic at this point. 

But Jack frowned. “I think you might be getting sick. We should pick up some soup from that deli place you like, down in Hoboken. Maybe pick up some tea too.” 

Your throat felt tight but you nodded nonetheless, hoping your surprise wasn’t obvious on your face.

Fucking magic. 

…

When you woke up the next morning, Jack still thought he was your boyfriend.

The next day was the same. 

So was the one after that. 

And the days following. 

Before you knew it, it had been well over a week—honestly closer to two weeks—and the curse seemed well and truly cemented in place. It was still an absolute mind-fuck, and not just for you but everyone on the team. 

It felt like one big secret you were all holding back on telling Jack, letting him live in some weird and ignorant bliss. The worst part was that he was so unsuspecting of the people closest to him lying to his face. He didn’t question the snickers Dawson or Luke would sometimes let out when the two of you showed up to work together. Or the way Nico seemed to actively avoid talking about the relationship (despite Jack insisting it was his friend’s shove that prompted him to ask you out). Or the fact you had been ‘sick’ for the last two weeks and, therefore, unable to kiss him.

Though, that one was easy with hockey players and their odd superstitions and need to prevent any possible scrap from a game. 

He was so trusting and gullible when it came to the people around him, you almost felt bad. 

The emphasis being on almost because by some weird and twisted turn of events, you didn’t mind it. Not really. Not after the initial weirdness and tension of it wore off. Maybe you had been single for too long or maybe you were mourning something you had never truly experienced, the love and attention of someone who notices, who sees you, who cares about keeping you happy. 

It felt wrong, like you were exploiting Jack for emotions and feelings he didn’t organically have. But it also felt too nice to tell the truth, to tell him that you weren’t really his girlfriend and lose the benefits you had gained over the last two weeks.

It was weird seeing this side of Jack. Not a bad weird, just a different kind. 

A kind you knew you would have to give up once the curse was gone.

“M’gonna be a bit longer, Dawson wanted to run some more drills outside of practice,” Jack said as he lifted himself off the massage bed, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you that made your stomach twist in endearment (when once upon a time, they pissed you off). “Wait for me? I’ll pay for your lunch.” 

“You don’t have to bribe me, you know,” you snorted but your eyes fluttered shut as he rounded your desk, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “But deal. We’re getting burritos.” 

He beamed, shaking his head fondly. “Fine. I’ll catch you in a few hours.” 

You watched him scurry out of your office, probably running through the corridors to get to the locker room before he was reprimanded for being late. He had even arrived two hours earlier than he was meant to, just because he wanted to chill in your office whilst you worked. 

It shouldn’t have made your heart flutter when you knew it wasn’t really Jack but it did.

It really fucking did.

…

It was an hour or so later when you couldn’t ignore your stomach rumbling anymore. 

There was still another two hours before Jack would step off the ice, heading towards the locker room to shower and change before the two of you could grab some food. And you sure as hell could not wait that long. 

You let out a groan, your joints clicking as you stood up from your desk for the first time in a few hours. You ignored the voice in the back of your head that reminded yourself to try walking around a bit more between writing reports before you headed into the hallway, deciding to treat yourself to the vending machines closer to the players’ locker room (it had better snacks, despite what management liked to tell everyone).

You had been standing in front of the vending machine with your brows furrowed in contemplation that you hadn’t even noticed an old lady approaching you.

“You’re the girl.” 

You jumped out of your skin, an unflattering noise of surprise leaving your lips as you stared at the woman with wide eyes. “I, uh, what?” Your brain took a few seconds to catch up. “I mean, I am a girl. I don’t know about being the girl.”

The woman smiled and it sent shivers down your spine. “Hm, yes, I can see it now. His aura lingers on you.” 

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, but the magic remains. It is strong. Pungent,” she continued, tsking as she shook her head. “You delay the inevitable!” 

Your eyes widened as you took a step back on instinct. “You’re the one that cursed Jack, aren’t you?”

“Curse?” Her smile became knowing, sneaky, disconcerting. “Oh, honey, there was no curse.”

You frowned. “Uh, ma’am, with all due respect, I find that hard to believe considering he—” 

“All I did was give him what he wanted,” she said, so simply and so directly that it caught you off guard. “His deepest desire to be his, though I assumed that would be a game win. The losing streak was quite off-putting.” 

“I—” You blinked. “So, wait. You’re a fan?” 

“Yes,” she stated. “Was it not obvious?” 

You bit back the sarcastic response that wanted to leave your lips. “And what? You cursed him to win the game?” 

“That was my mistake for assuming it was what he desired the most,” she replied, that almost-creepy smile on her face. “It seems his deepest desires lay with you.” 

You stared at the woman in front of you. “You’re joking, right?” 

“I do not joke,” she stated bluntly. 

“So…the way he’s been acting…” you trailed off, your mind racing with a million different thoughts.

“All himself,” the woman answered. “Think of the magic as the confidence boost he needed to get there.” 

“He likes me?” 

“Yes.”

“Like, properly?” 

“Yes.” 

“And everything he’s been doing? That’s been done by him and not influenced by magic? Not even the tidbits of knowledge?” 

“My dear, it sounds like you have been very oblivious to how this man feels about you.” 

You shot her a look, unsure how you felt about being called out by the very witch who ‘didn’t curse’ the boy you had been calling your boyfriend for the last two weeks. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Though, it seems like his change in relationship with you has been what he needed to get him out of his losing slump, so I guess we both win.”

You frowned a little. “You’re one odd lady.” 

She shrugged in response. 

“How did you even get in here?” 

…

“Run it again!” 

Jack’s muscles were screaming at him as he pushed himself across the ice, pushing himself to go faster, faster, faster like the coach wanted as he carried the puck on his stick. His eyes were laser-focused on the players around him, on dodging the defencemen lined up in front of him and skating around them to get to the goal. 

He didn’t let himself relax until the sound of the puck hitting the back of the net hit his ears.

“JACK!” 

He turned his head, expecting to find one of his teammates skating towards him to celebrate his goal in their makeshift drill. But instead of Nico skating towards him with his arms in the air or Dougie prepared to smack him on the back for dodging his attempts, he instead found you standing by the tunnel. 

You looked flustered and on edge and panicked, and it made his spine straighten.

Jack dodged the others, ignoring whatever the coaching staff were barking at them as he made his way towards you at a speed that you would have disapproved of if you knew how sore his muscles were.

“What? Are you okay? Did something happen?” He asked frantically, confused as to why else you would have interrupted a training practice. 

“You like me,” you said to him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Uh, yeah, babe. I do. What are you—”

But before he could continue, you grabbed his face with both hands and tugged him closer. He stumbled a step or two before his lips were pressed on yours. His surprise disappeared after a few seconds, his body melting into the kiss and his brain forgetting whatever he was trying to ask moments ago.

He was still in a daze when you pulled away, your hands still holding his face and your gaze completely focused on him, like you were expecting to see something different. 

“Do you still like me?” You asked, a little breathless.

And he felt winded. 

Winded by an influx of memories and realisations and emotions that were all his own. Winded by the magic coursing through him, ringing obvious and evident to his body despite two weeks of feeling nothing. Winded by the look on your face, a hint of fear and hope shining in your eyes as you awaited his response.

“Yeah,” he rasped, his cheeks burning hot. “I do.”

“Okay,” you nodded, your lips twitching upwards. “Good.” 

And then you kissed him again. 

However, this time it was the shrill of a whistle that broke you two apart, the annoyed voices of the coaching staff telling Jack to stop slacking and continue on with his training ringing loud and clear through the rink. 

“We still have a lot to talk about,” you said as Jack began to skate back towards the rest of the group. “Like, a lot.”

He grinned at you. “We still on for burritos after?” 

You laughed. “Only if you’re still playing.” 

“It’s a date, baby,” Jack winked. 

It was well known by all that you and Jack Hughes did not like each other. 

But maybe a little bit of magic was the shove the two of you needed to realise that wasn’t quite true. 

.