#i would recognise those annoying words anywhere

[sgt-dignam]

what? i've had this conversation before, and i've been on the other side of it.

FROM | 1.04 // 3.07

[kiwi-on-ice]

we need ashe smut w fem reader if u can🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

Ashe x fem!reader

Summary: As the new waitress at Panorama Diner, you quickly meet the infamous Deadlock Gang, while also gaining the interest of their ruthless leader.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: 18+ smut, dom!ashe, no use of y/n, lots of flirting, fingering, strap ons, spanking, slight overstim

Notes: Thank you for requesting my fav fav fav character anon! God i love Ashe and I love writing her. Also phew this is the longest fanfic i've wrote so far, hope it was worth the wait!

Having recently moved, there was one resounding fact you’ve learnt from practically everyone you’ve met so far; don’t mess with the deadlock gang.

Getting a job as a waitress along route 66, you’d been told by neighbors, new friends, even fellow colleagues to watch your back. That the deadlock gang were dangerous, unpredictable, undefeatable. And as you glance at the wanted posters that adorn the diner wall, your eyes are drawn to the leader, her mascara running down her cheeks. But its her expression that really strikes you, how severe and intense her gaze is. Reading the warning ‘Dead or Alive, Elizabeth Caledonia Ashe, $65,000,000 reward’, it really dawns on you how threatening she seems. Your finger traces the edge of the slightly ripped material, not being able to identify why exactly you can’t rip your gaze away.

Not being able to idle for long, you tear yourself away and get back to serving food and drinks, getting used to the flow of the diner and its patrons. It’s almost relaxing, most customers being pretty polite and calm as you work. You fall into a routine, especially since you have a specific uniform to wear. The diner’s management thought it would be good to have almost a 1950s theme, meaning you and the other waitresses were given blue stereotypical dresses to wear, complete with a small white apron to go around the waist. Yours was a little too tight, not that you minded. It flattered your figure quite nicely, even gaining you a few compliments.

It was quite a slow day as you stood behind the counter, in your own world as your fingers tap rhythmically on the marble. Light streamed through the glass windows, brightening the fairly empty diner as you daydream passively. Although the other waitress on staff seemingly drops a cup on the counter, causing you to turn at the noise. She seems...flustered, just as the bell rings to signal the door has opened. Following her nervous gaze, your breath catches. The deadlock gang, well only three of them, but the leader you’d recognise anywhere from how often you find yourself gazing at her wanted poster. Your colleague quickly busies herself with some coffee that you’re sure hasn’t been ordered, leaving you to seat them. You breathe slowly as you walk towards the new patrons.

Ashe seems a little frustrated, snapping at who you assume is her lieutenant as they wait to be seated, her rifle idly resting over her shoulder. She turns to look at whichever waitress will probably annoy her today, and then she sees you. Immediately her demeanour changes, looking you up and down as the furrow of her brow dissipates.

“Welcome to Panorama Diner, table for three?” you say softly, a polite smile etched on your features.

“Yeah, thanks. Preferably by one of those windows.” The leader replies, her red eyes not moving from you as you lead them to their table. Placing their menus down, you smile and leave them to decide. Releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you catch the other waitress glancing at you slightly apologetically. But you don’t particularly feel that threatened or scared…but you’ve been wrong before.

“Ready to order?” you ask with your notebook out, once again putting on the customer service smile.

“Three coffees, black.” Ashe says, before looking you up and down again. “That a uniform? Or d’you just like to dress like that?”

“It’s a uniform, management are going for a 1950s theme.” You reply with a soft laugh, which Ashe seems to delight in.

“Suits ya dollface, can see why they suggested it.” She says smoothly, causing heat to unexpectedly rise to your cheeks.

“I’ll grab your drinks.” You say quickly, turning and hoping she didn’t catch how flustered you looked. You reprimand yourself as you put the coffee on, why on earth were you affected by a simple compliment? You get compliments all the time…and especially why were you affected by the compliment of a criminal gang leader? You try and shake those thoughts from your mind as you pour their drinks, placing them on the tray and carrying them.

“Here you are, can I get you guys anything else?” you ask as you place their mugs in front of them. The two men shake their head dismissively, but Ashe hums softly.

“Hm…any recommendations?”

You hesitate for a moment. “Well a lot of the waitresses here recommend the apple pie.”

“But not you?” she asks, her eyebrow quirked.

“To be honest I hate apple pie.”

This dry response cause the gang leader to laugh, actually laugh, causing the two men to stare for a moment, bewildered. “That right? Appreciate the honesty there sweetcheeks, what would you recommend?”

You take a moment to think. “The French toast is lovely, and we also have a few cakes on stand that the staff made. Chocolate and red velvet.”

“Well I think red velvet would be just sweet enough, thanks doll.” Ashe replies with a small smirk, her red lipstick illuminating as the suns rays pierce through the glass panes. You nod and quickly go to get her a slice, a little short of breath from her intense gaze. You really need to stop acting like a blushing schoolgirl, you reprimand yourself. Coming back and serving her the cake slice, she thanks you, and that delicious accent of hers has you fidgeting as you turn and serve another table.

You try and continue your shift as normal, although her occasional glances at you prove difficult to ignore. Still you manage to keep your composure until one of her lieutenants pipes up.

“Hey lady, can we get the check?” he says loudly, snapping his fingers a little condesendingly, and as you hurry to the table, you see Ashe glare daggers at him.

“Don’t snap your damn fingers at her, she ain’t a fuckin’ dog.” Ashe seethes at him, which causes him to shrink a little and nod.

“Cash or card?” you ask, before Ashe pulls out a wad of cash from her pocket. Counting how much they owe, she places it on the table. You collect it as they stand to leave, but before they do Ashe stands to her full height and steps in front of you.

“Your tip, and an apology for my lackey’s rudeness.” She says, handing you a wad of cash. Your eyes must betray your shock at how much she’s giving you, as you shakily take it and start thanking her profusely.

“Don’t mention it dollface, didn’t catch your name.” You tell her, and she hums and smirks at you. “Pretty name for a pretty girl, guess I’ll be comin’ in here more often.”

With that, she tips her cowboy hat which makes you giggle softly before leaving. You watch as they step outside, mounting their motorbikes. You glance down to check your tip, counting the money in amazement. She’d tipped you 200 dollars, at least that’ll go a long way to paying this weeks rent.

Making good on her statement, two days later the gang are back. This time it’s Ashe and three members of her gang, alongside two omincs. One looked smaller, with a hood and a sniper rifle, but the other was huge, his hulking frame contrasting the cute little bowler hat that lay askew on his head. Even though a waiter was on hand, you almost sprinted to be the one who served them.

“Welcome back to Panorama Diner, table for…five?” you ask as you count them, and Ashe nods. They all seem a little dishelved, a few cuts and scrapes present on the human members which causes you to wonder where they’d been or what trouble they’d caused. You lead them to a table, connecting two so the bigger omnic could fit more comfortably, which seems to please Ashe greatly.

“Wasn’t sure ya’ll accepted omnics, there are a lot of establishments who sure as hell don’t.” Ashe remarks, causing you to shake your head.

“Of course we do, we don’t discriminate.” You say with a smile, before glancing at the bigger omnic. “Love the hat.”

He gives a nod and a little thumbs up, as Ashe continues. “His name’s B.O.B, he ain’t a talker.”

You nod, flipping your notebook out. Two coffees and a milkshake, to which Ashe raises her eyebrow at the dark-skinned woman clutching a laptop to her chest.

“Seriously Frankie?”

“What? You said it was a celebration.”

You smile a little. “So two coffees and a milkshake, got it.”

Leaving them to it, you go to prepare their orders. You can’t deny that you’ve been secretly picturing Ashe coming in again, giving you a small rush now that it’s actually come true. You try and convince yourself it’s just for the possibility of another tip, and not for the way her voice makes you weak at the knees, and her eyes are the most gorgeous you’ve ever seen.

“Here you guys are, anything else just let me know.” You say brightly.

“Thanks doll.”

God you can’t deny how much that nickname is affecting you when it slips from her red lips, as you turn and serve some other tables. You notice a few patrons glancing at the gang as they eat, but you aren’t afraid anymore, and you sure as hell aren’t gonna turn them in, however you try and push away the feeling of guilt at how flippant you’re being regarding a wanted gang of criminals. All because the leader was hot.

Still, you go about your shift easily, growing to like whenever Ashe would unashamedly look at your ass whenever you bent over to pick something up from a table; in fact, a few times you did it on purpose in the hopes the older woman was looking at you. After a while, it was near closing time so you check on them to get any final orders. Upon asking for the check, you hand it to them.

“Cash or card?” you ask.

“Cash” the leader replies, this time opening a bag that was sat beside her. You can’t help but glance inside, and the sheer volume of dollar bills nearly has your eyes watering. That explains why they look so bruised and scraped, you think to yourself, as she counts out the amount and places it on the table. As they get up to leave, Ashe is again the last one as she hands you another wad of cash.

“Your tip.” She says in a matter-of-fact tone.

“Oh…miss I really cant accept that much again- “

“You can, and you will.” She replies, her tone leaving no room for argument as you shyly take the money, electricity spiking up your back as your skin brushes against hers.

“Thank you so so much, I really can’t thank you enough.”

“No need sugar.” She waves her hand dismissively as she grabs her rifle. “Stay safe, these parts ain’t gonna be quiet for too long.”

You nod a little at her warning as she leaves, your heart beating rapidly. She gives you a final look up and down as she leaves, and you release a shaky breath, god you really have to stop getting so worked up about her. Although it’s hard when you glance at the 300 dollar bill tip she just gave you.

However a few days later, things really take a turn for you. Two of your fellow waitresses invite you out to a bar, and you’d been polite enough to say yes despite your reluctance. Once you arrive, they’re both taken with a few men who buy them drinks, leaving you alone at the bar, tapping your finger anxiously on the table. You get a few offers from guys trying to buy you drinks, but you blow them off, your dress suddenly feeling too tight in the warm lights. Thinking about leaving, you move a bit through the bar before you hear raucous laughter from a nearby cards table.

The deadlock gang…they were here. Clearly nobody was brave enough to ask them to leave, or hell they might even own the place…it strikes you just how little you know about them; dangerous considering the leader now knows your name. The same leader who you’ve just locked eyes with, the red hue causing your breath to catch. Hesitating, you turn to leave. Maybe she didn’t recognise you outside of your waitress uniform, as you attempt to walk casually towards the exit.

“You better not be leaving doll, not when I’ve just saw ya.” You hear a smooth southern voice say, and god it’s like the blood rushes to your face immediately. Turning, you see Ashe coming up to you, her lips, tie and eyes all the same colour. Danger.

“Seems my friends have left me, I was just heading out-“

“Awe don’t worry, how about I be your friend, hm?”

It feels like the devil tempting you as you hesitate for a moment, but ultimately you find yourself nodding before you even realise. The smirk on her face makes her look like the wolf whose seduced the lamb into her den, as she leads you into the bar with a hand on the small of your back. Taking you to a smaller table away from the rest of her gang, she looks at you.

“Let me at least buy ya a drink.” She offers, and goes to order what you asked for. Tapping your fingers nervously against your thigh, you glance around as you wait. Her gang are still sat where you’d seen them, laughing and playing cards. You recognise a few of them who’d came into the diner, but quickly look away before they catch you staring.

“There ya go sugar.” Ashe says as she gets back, two glasses in hand. You quickly thank her as she slides into the booth with you, her thigh slightly touching your own. “So y’friends abandoned you?”

Laughing a little, you nod and explain that they’d been whisked away with some patrons who’d caught their eye. The smirk on Ashe’s face gives away her train of thought.

“But not you?” She inquires, eyes glancing around your face as if mapping out every detail.

“I prefer girls.” You say before even thinking about your words, but the older woman smiles all the same.

“Perfect.”

Forcing yourself to not show how flustered you are, she starts to ask questions about your life, your job, your family. As you speak, she seems genuinely interested in what you have to say, something you can’t say you’ve ever had with the dates you’ve been on in the past. Not that this is a date…

“What about you?” You ask softly.

“Me? All ya need to know is that deadlock is my family now.” She says, before grinning. “Well, B.O.B is extra special family.”

“The one with the little hat, right?” You reply, peering over her shoulder to her gang, where the hulking omnic sat with his eyes firmly on the two of you.

“Yeah that’s it, my bodyguard. Not that I need him all the time. Best believe I can handle myself.” She smirks, leaning in to murmur the last bit close to your ear, causing you to giggle a little.

“You’re known for being quite dangerous around these parts, right?”

“Oh you could say that doll. What, you scared?” She teases, before you quickly shake your head. “Good, I like a brave girl.”

Smiling a little at her praise, you aren’t even focused on the fact she’s a gang leader anymore. Like Eve biting the forbidden fruit, you let Ashe place her hand on your knee as you speak, the sinful spark of electricity seemingly travelling from her manicured fingertips all the way up your spine. As you both talk, her fingers tracing small circles on your knee, before slightly rising higher.

After an hour or so, her gang approach, rowdy and clearly intoxicated as they giggle.

“C’mon Ashe, let’s hit up some other places.”

You smile at the cowgirl, thinking it’s the end of the night for you. But she hums, glancing at you for a moment before replying.

“Ya’ll go and have fun, but not too much.”

One of her lieutenants tilts his head, “huh? You ain’t comin’?”

Ashe cuts him a glare that tells him to shut his mouth, before readjusting herself so her arm is around your shoulder. “I’m doin’ just fine here.”

With no room for argument, her gang takes off after Ashe gives a nod to her omnic bodyguard. You on the other hand feel your breathing quicken at the feel of her arm around you, subtly leaning closer to her as you giggle.

“You’re doing just fine here?” You ask, to which she smirks.

“Damn right I am, got a pretty girl hangin’ off my every word. What’s not to like?”

At the reassurance that she does in fact find you pretty, the heat rises within you. Not being able to help glancing at her lips for a moment, the ever perceptive criminal obviously noticing, her breath tickling your cheek as she speaks.

“But just cause I’m doin’ fine here, don’t mean we can’t go somewhere else…maybe away from pryin’ eyes.”

At her announcement, you glance around to notice the other patrons sneaking glances as you. But another thought comes creeping through your mind, the thought of going home with her. Of letting her touch you in the way you’ve been fantasising about ever since she came into the diner. You wouldn’t dream of admitting the nights you spent playing with your clit, imagining the infamous gang leader’s fingers instead. So you nod, knowing you’d give in, and the self-satisfied smile on her face tells you that she knew you’d say yes.

She leads you with by the hand, warm and slightly callous in your own, before coming upon her motorcycle parked outside the bar. Seeing your expression, she giggles softly.

“First time on one of these?” she asks, to which you nod, “Don’t worry sugar, just hold on good and tight f’me, alright?”

And you really do, clinging on to her waist as she speeds down dirt roads, hair wispy in the wind. Try as you might to relax and take in the scenery, you can’t deny the relief you feel when she finally brings the bike to a stop. She takes you once again by the hand and leads you inside, shutting and bolting the door behind you both. Now should be the time to feel at least a little intimidated, but butterflies of excitement uncurl in your stomach as she glances at you.

“Want another drink?” she asks smoothly, to which you shake your head. Drinking really is the last thing on your mind, especially as she stalks closer to you. “Maybe you want somethin’ else…”

Feeling your back against the wall, you nod slightly as she brings her hand up to slowly trace your cheekbone. Her thumb rubs smoothing lines, and at this proximity you can see every line and pore on her beautiful face, every eyelash, how her tongue darts out a little to lick at her lip.

“D’you want me doll? Gotta tell me now or I ain’t touchin’ ya.”

“I want you.” You say, trying to sound confident but melting at her grin.

“Alright, you gotta know though…I’m a woman who likes control, likes to be in charge. You sure you can handle that?”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning as she says that, nodding quickly again. At your consent, she leans in and kisses you, the tension between you both finally exploding. She presses you further up against the wall, tongue running along your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Eagerly swallowing your slight whimpers, she uses her free hand to wrap around your hip, keeping you where she wants you. Pulling away, she observes the slight red stain her lipstick as left on your mouth, before kissing along your jaw.

“So sweet sugar, like candy.” She mumbles against your skin, kissing down to your neck and licking. “Gonna let me leave a mark?”

You stutter out a yes, before she sucks a dark hickey into your neck. There really isn’t any going back now, she’s marked you. The leader of the deadlock gang has truly staked her claim on you, and you couldn’t be happier.

Feeling the material of your dress, she slowly inches the fabric up, exposing more and more of your thighs as she kisses to the junction between your neck and shoulder. She lets out a soft moan as she grips your upper thigh, feeling the soft skin under her touch and squeezing. Although she quickly grows tired of waiting, instead slipping between your thighs to grope your clothed pussy instead. At the action, you can’t help but buck forward into her touch, feeling her smile against your skin.

“So wet already, bet you were drippin’ in the bar huh?” she accuses you, knowing she was right. Her fingers cup your panties, feeling the wet material beneath her skin, exploring. With a soft whimper, you let her touch you how she wants, eyelids fluttering closed before she slaps your pussy lightly.

“Nuh uh doll, eyes open.”

When you do as she instructs, she rewards you by slipping into your panties and rubbing your clit in slow rhythmic circles. The result is instantaneous, a quiet needy moan escaping you as you feel her touch. Her eyes never leave your face, head tilted as she watches your reactions.

“Look so pretty, y’know that? Know how pretty you are?” she praises you teasingly, meaning every word but mostly saying them because of how flustered you act when you hear them. Her praise goes straight to your cunt, clit throbbing under her touch as she speeds up her movements.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen sugar. You’re gonna cum on my hand, and all I’m gonna do is play with your clit. If you’re a good girl and do what I say, imma take you into the bedroom and fuck the brains outta ya.”

 Her tone doesn’t leave any room for argument, and you voice your confirmation. She grips your waist, encouraging you to rock into her hand as she keeps up the movement of her fingers, strumming your core expertly. It’s clear to you she’s experienced, and you wonder if this is a normal occurrence for her; to seduce and play with pretty girls who happen to cross her path when she isn’t out being a criminal.

Shakily, you grip on to her waistcoat for stability, feeling yourself get closer and closer the more she touches you. When she releases your waist to grope your tits, that’s when your thighs really start to shake, grip harder on her outfit.

“Yeah baby, that’s right. Cum on my hand, make a mess.” She encourages, her voice igniting that fire inside of you as you finish on her hand with a soft cry. Not slowing down, she gets every last bit of your pleasure before she finally removes her hand, bringing it up to the light to observe your fluids sticking to her digits. “Awe, ya really did make a mess.”

Catching your breath, you blink for a moment as she uses those same fingers to tap at your lower lip, before parting them to clean her fingers for her. Tasting yourself was a little strange, but it was worth it for the way her pupils dilated and her breath caught in her throat at your performance. Without another word, she grabs your upper arm and hauls you into the bedroom.

Getting you on your back, she grabs the zipper of your dress and yanks it down, removing it quickly as she leans to give you another kiss. Moaning softly, you reach to unzip her waist coat, pushing it off her before your hands go to her tie. She grins against your lips and helps you undo it, before he grips your wrists and pins them above your head, mattress squeaking slightly.

“Can you guess what I’m about to do?” she purrs, before wrapping the red tie around your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but just enough to give the illusion of incapacitation. Bound like a present for her, she straddles your waist and looks at her handiwork, before slowly unbuttoning her dress shirt. You buck up a little in excitement, as she reveals her white bra. Removing her fingerless gloves, she tugs your ruined underwear down roughly, exposing your dripping cunt to the dim light of the bedroom.

“So many things I wanna do to you baby, so many things.” She says as she runs her finger along your pussy lips, smirking as you twitch. “Anythin’ completely off limits?”

You tell her and she hums in acknowledgement, before glancing at the wardrobe. She lifts herself off you, hissing at you to stay still as she grabs a box from beneath a few clothes and bullet shell casings. Bringing it over, she smirks as your eyes widen at the sheer number of toys in the box.

“I’m a wealthy woman doll, and I’m a wealthy woman with…needs.” She answers your silent judgement, before leaving the box on the floor next to the bed. “Now if you do well, I promise I’ll fuck ya, how does that sound?”

Before being able to ask what you need to do well at, she unbuttons her trousers and slides them down her legs, removing all of her harnesses and belts with precision. Just in her bra and underwear now, she winks at you before ridding herself of her panties before climbing up your body. Oh. You know what she wants, and you whimper desperately in anticipation.

Grabbing the headboard, she positions herself over your face, thighs on either side. You’re practically salivating, as she moves your bound hands to be resting on your stomach. Without warning, she finally sits on your face, and you get to work immediately. You lap at her pussy, wanting to taste her all night and finally being given the opportunity. She groans softly, the feeling of your warm tongue between her thighs was heavenly. She wanted you like this since she saw you, in that silly waitress dress that was too small for your curves.

Rocking into your tongue, she watches you squirm with glee, moving one hand to hold your hair; keeping you in place as she uses you. Uses your mouth, all for herself. Whimpering, you lick up to her clit before sucking gently, delighting in how a soft moan escapes her throat. She tightens her grip on your hair, pulling to angle you to where exactly she wants. Her pussy was dripping, mixing with your saliva as she makes a mess of your face. Not that you mind, excitedly pleasuring her as best you can.

“Fuck sugar, ain’t you a good girl.” She slurs out, as you move your tongue over her cunt. “Keep it up and I’m, shit, I’m definitely fuckin’ ya.”

You whine in excitement, doubling down on your effort, jaw slightly aching as you please the criminal above you. Feeling herself get close, she grinds faster into your tongue, taking the sensations you’re willingly providing her. She finally cums in your mouth with an uncharacteristically higher pitched moan, her hips slowing until she stills.

You catch your breath rapidly as she climbs off you, leaning into her hand as she wipes your mouth of her wetness. The action causes your chest to feel tight with happiness, before she taps your cheek in a slightly condescending manner.

“Alright then doll, I’m a woman of my word.”

With that, she leans off the bed to rifle through the box, before bringing up a bottle of lube and squeezing a glob onto her fingers. With a nod of confirmation from you, she pushes two fingers slowly inside, feeling how your practically suck her in. She groans quietly, as you make a stranged gasp at the sensation. Removing them, she sinks them inside again before repeating, the wet noises from your cunt echoing off the walls.

“Hear that? Hear how much this pussy wants me?” she taunts, curling them to prod at that spot inside that makes your toes curl.

She sets a slow but firm rhythm, focusing on stretching you out for whats to come as her other hand gentle strokes circles on your thigh. You’re having the time of your life, hands still bound helplessly infront of you as your digits flex. This is exactly what you wanted from her, what you needed from her, and she hadn’t even got to the main event yet.

After a while though, and a third finger being slipped inside, you grow impatient with the growing desire for her to fuck you. So you do your best to voice that desperation, hips twitching and voice pathetically higher pitched than normal.

“You want it baby?” she says, slowing her fingers to a halt before grinning at you. “Say it nicely.”

“Can you please fuck me Ashe?” you ask.

With a nod and a quick spank to your oversensitive pussy, she leans down and grabs the strap on she was keeping which causes your eyes to widen. It’s a black harness, with a purple dildo attached. It wasn’t overly big at around 6 inches, but it certainly seemed thicker than anything you’d taken before. Suddenly glad of her prep, you watch as she moves a pillow beneath your hips, before lubing up the fake cock.

She pushes in slowly, and you both moan at the sight and sensation. God you look gorgeous, she thinks, as her red eyes watch your face contort in pleasure and the slight pain that comes with the stretch. You whimper her name softly, cunt tightening around the dildo as Ashe strokes at your hips soothingly.

“I know, I know sugar. But you can take it, I know you can take it.” She praises, bottoming out inside you. Thighs shaking, you’re grateful for the way she lets you adjust to the size, and after a few moments you offer her a shaky nod.

Smiling, she pulls out slowly and pushes you back in, getting you used to the rhythm of being fucked as the grip on your thighs tightens a little. She clearly has a lot of core strength, able to keep the pace effectively and slightly speed up when she senses you get more comfortable. The slick sounds of your pussy getting fucked by her should make you embarrassed, but the shameless noise only serves to turn you on further.

“That’s it, look at ya. Takin’ my cock so well, such a good little girl.” She grunts out, cowboy hat laying askew on her head as she keeps fucking you. You lift your bound hands to paw at her bra, before she clearly gets the hint and chuckles. Not slowing down at all, she reaches behind herself and practically rips the garment off, exposing her breasts to your gaze. You go to touch them before she grabs your wrists easily, moving them above your head as she moves your thighs up.

This new angle means she can drive the toy impossibly deep inside you, pinning your hands down and making sure you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but take. You moan louder at this, eyes nearly rolling back as you’re sure she’s fucking your brains out. The mating press makes her feel good too, the harness bumping her clit with every thrust, serving the mental image of her fucking you with physical sensation.

“So cute, like my own little doll. Maybe I should keep ya.” She drawls, causing you to whimper more at the insinuation. Hell, in this moment she could threaten to lock you up in her basement and you’d probably blindly agree, needing to feel more of the delicious friction she was providing you. Moving her one hand down, she rubs a little clumsily at your clit, causing your cunt to tighten around the dildo.

You aren’t sure how long she fucks you like that, time an illusion that pales in comparison to the pleasure of being fucked by the gang leader, but eventually you need to cum. So you tell her, beg her, which only fuels her dominate headspace further.

“Yeah keep beggin’ me, that’s right. You know who’s in control right now.” She groans out, slamming her hips against yours. Every muscle in your body tightening, you barely have time to tell her you’re gonna cum until you’re gushing around her fake cock with a drawn out moan. Grinning, she slows down, stroking at your arms.

“Good job, you looked so pretty baby.” She whispers, red nails gently dragging on your skin soothingly. Just when you’re about to thank her though when she pulls out, she grabs under your hips and flips you, landing face first into the mattress with a grunt.

“Ashe-“

“Oh come on darlin’, you didn’t think we’d just stop at one, did you?”

With that, she pushes into you for a second time from behind, your back arching. This time she doesn’t wait for you to adjust before pulling back and thrusting inside. With your loud, overstimulated moans, she grins sadistically and starts to fuck you again, your hands limply in front of your face.

“Oh fuck doll, ain’t you just the prettiest thing.” She gets out through her shaky drawn out breaths, focusing on railing you firmly into next week. Your thighs tremble with every thrust, feeling your g spot get battered by her dildo. You feel a sharp smack as she spanks your ass, and at your reaction she repeats the motion.

Eyes rolling back, your front falls into the sheets as you lose the strength to hold yourself up, moaning incessantly at her rough treatment. She fucks you like she already owns you, like you’re her property, and you love it. The sensations are so much, you find yourself whimpering her name over and over.

But a part of Ashe wants you to call her by her first name, a name she hardly lets anyone call her. But ultimately decides against it, it feels too real, somehow too intimate. Reluctant to break down her walls, she instead channels her mental doubts into fucking you better, harder, with more passion. She holds your hips for stability, pushing your hands down so you can crudely rub yourself while she fucks you.

Soon it all becomes too much, and you feel yourself barrelling towards your next orgasm quickly. Your breathy whines and whimpers let her know, as she moves her hand up your spine before nestling her fingers in your hair. She gives a sharp pull, forcing you into an arch as she coos in your ear.

“Awe baby, you gonna cum again? Gonna let me fuck another one outta ya?”

You nod dumbly, almost drooling as your pussy tightens yet again.

“Good, make some noise for me m’kay?”

Making good on her word, she thrusts into your g spot with conviction, forcing noises to come tumbling out of your throat as you cum for a third time that night, twitching and almost convulsing. This time when she slows, she pulls out for good, unclasping the harness and letting the strap fall to her side as she takes you in her arms. She tosses the cowgirl hat and nestles herself into the pillows, pulling you with her so you’re laying on her chest.

“That okay for you?” she asks, like she hasn’t just given you the railing of a lifetime, but you giggle softly anyway and nod. “Alright good, just checkin’. I’ll run ya a bath in a minute, how does that sound?”

You relax into her embrace, content to let her take care of you as you hum softly in appreciation. Her nails gently drag along your scalp, the soothing gesture threatening to send you to sleep before she can clean you up. You can’t deny how safe you feel, in the arms of someone so dangerous. But she’s showing you such affection, such softness which contradicts the rumours that swirl around her.

“Are you gonna come to the diner more?”

That innocent little question you ask, so full of hope and contentment causes an unfamiliar sensation to rise up in the cowgirl, as she glances down at you.

“You want that? You wanna see me some more?”

At your nod, she swallows thickly. You actually want to see her more, maybe as more than someone to fuck. Someone to…she doesn’t let herself finish that thought, instead smirks teasingly.

“Sure doll, gotta come back to the diner. Gotta make sure nobody else is tippin’ my favourite waitress as much as I am.”

You giggle at that, teasing her back. “Oh? So if someone tipped me higher then you’d match it?”

“I’d go beyond matchin’ it darlin’, might have to start paying your bills as my tip.”

You really laugh at her dramatics, cuddling up to her more and making her cheeks involuntarily flush. With a soft sigh, she allows herself to bask in the moment before slapping your ass gently.

“Come on then dollface, let’s get ya in the bath.”

[flaggermuser]

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

1,452 words || Fluff, GN Reader, Doctor Reader, Parent & Child Relationship, Parent & Child Attachment, Casuallander ||

Previous Tawny fics: When You Loved Me, Home Is Where His Heart Is & They Took My Sunshine Away

Tawny is used to mean parent, as reader is GN

Also, thank you to @homeb0ys for being perfect and always having the picture I need <3

This is also unbeta'd so we are dying like kings

Homelander feels stupid.

The most recognisable man in the world stands in the spare room of your home, staring at himself in the mirror. He’s dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in his life.

It’s a regular outfit: jeans, a T-shirt, a hoodie and a baseball cap.

“They fit,” you say with pride, standing beside him. “I was so worried that they wouldn’t. I could always return them to the store and get a new size. How do they feel? I tried to get at least 95% cotton so they wouldn’t irritate your skin.”

“They’re fine,” he replies, smiling softly as you adjust them.

You’re fussing over him; he loves it when you do that. It’s such a parental thing to do, like making sure he looks perfect for one of those ‘First Day at School’ pictures that you’ll spam all over your social media with a cliché yet heartfelt caption.

Yet he knows you can’t do that without risking backlash from Vought.

Instead, he knows you’ll set up the digital camera he bought and snap a picture, printing it out and putting it in another ornate frame to join the others on the mantle.

“Come on then,” you say gently. “We should get going before the traffic gets bad.”

Traffic - something that never bothered Homelander.

He could fly and reach anywhere in the world in seconds, but today, he wasn’t Homelander.

It was a simple offer you’d made causally one day when he came for Sunday lunch, as he always did. He’d been in a foul mood, complaining to you about the Seven and Vought, exclaiming that he’d just like to be John for once in his life.

“Well, if you’d like, I can take you to a baseball game one day. I’ll buy you some regular clothes, we can take my car. Just spend some time together outside of this house.”

The wave of joy those words sent through him was something he’d never experienced before.

Now here he was, just John, going to a baseball game with you.

Homelander stands beside you on the porch, watching you turn the key in the various locks on your door, ensuring your house is secure before you leave.

Part of him doesn’t understand why you have so many; after all, you live in a slightly affluent neighbourhood with a low crime rate, but, at the same time, he would burn down the world if something happened to you.

When you reach the car, you open the passenger-side door, and a neighbour approaches you as he enters. He knows this person; he’s done extensive research on everyone within a ten-mile radius of your house.

“Who’s this then?” They ask, gesturing towards Homelander. 

They’re snooping in your business, and not for the first time if the look on your face is anything to go by. However, it’s refreshing for Homelander not to be recognised instantly, but that might result from crumbling eyesight.

“This?” You reply. “This is my son John.”

‘My son John.’

Homelander falters for a millisecond, the words swirling around his brain, the urge to break down in tears growing. The words he thought he’d never hear left your lips without a hint of hesitation.

The tears blur his vision, and his lips tremble. He forces his head down to conceal the overwhelming weight of his emotions. He doesn’t mind crying in front of you; after all, you are his haven of safety. It was this old busybody he didn’t want to see.

“You never told me you had a son.”

“You never asked,” you’re annoyed. “We’ve only recently reunited, not that it’s any of your business.”

You close the car door quickly, walking around and entering the driver’s seat. You put on your seatbelt and reach across to do the same to him.

“You might be the strongest man in the world, but we always put our belts on in my car.”

The journey begins in silence. You’re focused on driving while he does his best to keep himself together, but it gets more challenging by the second. It isn’t until you’re stuck in traffic on the freeway that he finally speaks.

“When they asked you who I was, you said I was your son.”

“I did,” you admit. “Because in my mind, you are. Do you remember what I said that night when you had that nightmare?”

“You have no idea how happy I was to see you again. It was like I was given a second chance, to be there for you, to love you like my own son.”

He nods, sniffles, and wipes his cheeks with his hand, only for you to offer him a tissue, which he gladly takes. He looks at you, and you give him that reassuring smile.

“Even if it is too many years late, you are my son, John. Whether you’re Homelander or John, you’re my son.”

Homelander had been to baseball games before.

Usually, he’d be standing in Vought's box, pretending to watch the game as he stood around with the other Seven members, tolerating their existence.

But today, he sits in a slightly secluded part of the upper stands, giving him a more prominent taste of anonymity. Surprisingly, no one has noticed it is him under these clothes; he isn’t covering his face entirely, and he’s sure maybe one or two people have recognised him. But if they did, they didn’t say anything. 

It was a warm and sunny day, so you got seats somewhere in the shade.

Although you know he can’t get burned, you still cover him with suncream and make sure he knows exactly where your seats are so he doesn’t get lost when he returns from the bathroom.

For a few minutes, he sits alone, looking at the field and the players, recalling all the different positions and who is who, fiddling with the free lanyard he’s been given.

“Here we go!”

You return carrying some food and drinks, your little picnic courtesy of the Stadium’s overpriced concession stands that you spread out on the empty chairs beside you. He’d tried to give you some money, just a little something to help with today’s costs, but you’d refused.

“This is my little treat for you,” you scolded him sweetly. “All you have to do is enjoy it.”

So he does.

He focuses more on you than the game, picking up on all your little reactions and determining who your favourite player is and how that ball should have been a foul. It’s these little things he treasures most when you’re spending time together.

Things he knows others take for granted.

It’s the most fun he’s ever had at a sporting event, not only because he gets to experience it with you but because he’s not there out of some bullshit obligation; he’s here because he wants to be. 

“Are you having a good time?” you ask sincerely. “Are you hungry? Do you need something to drink?”

“I’m okay,” he replies with a smile, taking your hand. “I’m just… living in the moment. Thank you for this, Tawny.”

“You’re very welcome.”

It’s early evening when you finally get back home.

Homelander has had a great day. Being able to be John for a few hours has made him so happy, and he’s not willing for the day to be over yet. He’s already sent Ryan a message to say he won’t be home until tomorrow morning because he’s spending the night here.

“Have you had a good day?” You ask sweetly, remaining in the car for a few minutes. “We can always do something else, like go to the zoo.”

As soon as you utter those words, your face changes, and you turn away from him, staring down at your lap. He places his hand on your forearm, squeezing gently.

“I'm sorry,” you sigh deeply. “You're the Homelander,, and here I am offering to take you to the zoo, treating you like a child.”

“But I want to go to the zoo,” he replies. “I want to go to all the places you would have taken me as a kid, do all the things we would have done. I don't care that I'm older; all that matters is that I'm with you, I’m with my Tawny.”

You look back up at him, and he smiles; it’s warm and genuine. If only you truly knew how happy you make him and how calming your presence is after a bad day.

“Do I need to ask if you’re staying?”

He chuckles at that, shaking his head. “No. It’s been a great day, and you tucking me into bed tonight is the one thing that would make it perfect.”

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Carrion Flowers

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x original female character (Ceryse Stone) Warnings: Cartomancy/tarot/fortune telling, mentions of death, smut. Word count: ~4k

Summary: Annoyed after offering to help seek out his older brother, Aegon, Aemond wanders into the tent of a fortune teller in Flea Bottom to seek out information. He gets much more than he bargains for. Based on this request.

Artwork by the insanely talented @cyeco13

Ceryse drums her ring covered fingers on the cloth covered table top, her green eyes scanning over the tarot deck spread out in front of her for what feels like the hundredth time that afternoon. It has been a slow day in Flea Bottom. Were it not for the merciful relief from the blazing sun that her tent provides, she'd have packed up and gone home hours ago. The only people that have ducked under the canvas so far have been opportunistic drunks looking for somewhere private to pass water, or lost merchants seeking out directions.

She sighs as an intrusion of sunlight casts her in momentary brightness, before darkening once more. The movement of the opening causes the candlelight to flicker. She doesn't bother to look up, she hasn't had a customer all day.

"I'm looking for a man." A smooth, even voice says.

"Pleasure house is that way." She huffs tiredly, half heartedly casting her forefinger in the general direction of the Street of Silk, the movement causing the bangles that adorn her slender wrist to clatter together, as her gaze remains on her cards.

"It's information I'm after, actually."

She looks up, pushing the waves of her long auburn hair from her face in order to take a better look at her insistent visitor. The tall figure is having to stoop to prevent his head from hitting the peaked roof. He exhales heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring in obvious annoyance.

She'd recognise that face anywhere; the eyepatch, the scar. It is Prince Aemond Targaryen that stands before her. He is trying to disguise his identity, though doing a poor job.

The clasp holding his cloak together costs more than she makes in an entire year. She bites back a laugh thinking about how stiflingly hot he must feel in all those layers.

"Information?" She muses nonchalantly, hiding her recognition. "That will cost you a silver."

He hesitates, narrowing his eye and pursing his lips. "A silver? My lady, you are attempting to extort a Prince!"

"A Prince?" Ceryse rests her chin on her hands, regarding him with amusement. "Well, why didn't you say sooner? In that case, for you, it's two silvers."

“I do not have time for this.” Aemond seethes, turning to leave.

“I’ll throw in a free reading?” She offers, her tone saccharinely sweet. 

“No.” He says icily, pulling back the tent flap.

“Suit yourself. Good luck finding your brother!” She retorts cheerfully.

He turns, looking at her incredulously as he’s about to crouch back through the way he came. “How did you-”

“Goodbye, Prince Aemond.” She calls out airily, returning her focus to the fanned out cards on her table.

He leaves with a haughty huff. 

Ceryse smiles to herself. Aemond has provided welcome amusement on an otherwise dreary afternoon. She spends the rest of the day half wondering to herself if he’ll send the Gold Cloaks after her for her insolence, though when early evening rolls around and she begins to pack down for the day, she is relieved that he has not.

The sky is awash with purple and orange hues as the sun sets, and she is placing the last of her tent poles into a linen sack when Aemond approaches once more. She straightens, eyeing him with levity as he stalks towards her.

“You know you’re fooling no one with that silly cloak.” She laughs.

He ignores her comment, though she notices the tight line his lips press into. “I would like a reading.” He tells her matter of factly.

“Couldn’t find your brother?”

“No, we found him, but…you knew I was looking for him. Your powers of divination must be strong.”

She gives a wry smile, shaking her head. “‘Tis no divine magic. Prince Aegon frequents this little corner of King’s Landing. I’ve chased him out of my tent more than once for trying to piss in it. It wasn’t hard to guess who you sought.”

Aemond appears to consider this for a moment, his gaze downcast. “I’d still like a reading.” He states, meeting her eye.

“I’ve packed down for the day already.” She gestures towards the bags around her feet.

“I’m willing to pay. Double what you asked; four silvers.”

Ceryse’s eyes go wide. She wouldn’t have to work for an entire week with that sort of coin, she’d be a fool to refuse him. “Very well.” She nods. “You can accompany me home and I’ll do it there. The sun is setting and this isn’t a place it’s wise to be once night falls.”

She picks up the largest of the bags, containing the tent canvas and poles, and thrusts it into Aemond’s arms. “Might as well make yourself useful.” She smirks, collecting up the rest of her things.

Aemond adjusts the bag in his arms, looking affronted at having been asked to carry it. “Who helps you with this usually?"

“Nobody. Us small folk don’t have servants to fetch and carry for us. I load that onto my back and carry the other two in my hands.”

“Hmm.”

They walk through the winding, cobblestoned streets of Flea Bottom for a few moments in silence, until Aemond decides to speak. “I didn’t ask you your name.”

“You didn’t.” Comes Ceryse’s clipped reply.

“You are infuriating.” Aemond mutters.

She giggles, looking sideways at him. “My name is Ceryse.”

“Might I know your last name?”

She hesitates a moment, sighing. “Stone.”

“Hmm. A bastard of the Vale.” He muses.

“Does that offend you?” She eyes him curiously as they continue walking.

“No, it’s just-”

“A bastard put out your eye.”

“That is treason.” He states coolly.

“Do you care?”

“I suppose not.”

She stops once they reach a row of single storey houses all on a slant. They are packed tightly together and look as though the slightest breeze could topple them over. She approaches the one on the end, setting her bags down and unlocking the door.

“Here we are.” She announces, stepping over the threshold and moving to the side to allow Aemond in.

He has to duck to get through the doorway and once inside the sight of this towering hooded man in her humble abode feels like a fever dream. She watches as he takes in his surroundings. She has never felt resentful of the little she has, but now, seeing the face of royalty cast their gaze around the cramped space she inhabits, she can’t help but feel a little embarrassed. Her bed is unmade, and her belongings litter every available surface.

“You have a lovely home.” Aemond says stiffly.

“You’re a horrible liar.” Ceryse snaps back.

“Where should I..?” He hefts the tent bag in his arms, looking at her questioningly. 

“Oh, just stick that anywhere!” She says with a shrug, masking her shame as she sets her own bags down, and begins rummaging for her deck of cards. “So you wanted a reading?”

Aemond unfastens his cloak, taking it off and folding it carefully. “Yes. Where shall I put this?”

She takes it from him, throwing it onto the bed, then sets the cards down on a small wooden table that sits at the end of it.

He raises his eyebrows in shock. “Do you have wine?”

“No, too expensive. I’ve got ale though.”

She moves towards the little area that serves as her kitchen, snatching up a clay bottle from the side. Pulling the cork out with her teeth, she fills two mugs before handing one to Aemond.

He accepts it with a quiet thanks, sniffing it apprehensively before taking a sip. His nose immediately wrinkles in disgust.

“Not to your liking, my Prince?” Ceryse asks with a grin.

He coughs slightly, shaking his head. “That is vile.”

She chuckles, moving back towards the table. She seats herself on the end of the bed, gesturing a hand towards the sole stool situated at the other side.

Aemond sits, looking comically too large for the rickety wooden furniture. “So, how does this work?”

“Payment first.” She reminds him. “The drink is free, no need to throw in extra for that.”

For the first time that day he smiles, genuine mirth tugging at the corners of his mouth. Fishing four silvers from his coin purse, he deposits them onto the table, then takes another swig from his mug with a grimace.

Ceryse pockets the coins then shuffles the deck of cards. “What is it you wish to know?”

Aemond licks his lips nervously, his voice lowering as though he is afraid he’ll be overheard. “Am I to be King?”

She quirks an eyebrow. “Is your father dead?”

“Yes…I should not be telling you this.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“I shan’t tell a soul, but what of his heir, Rhaenyra?”

“My mother has plans to crown Aegon instead. His coronation is tomorrow.”

Ceryse inhales sharply. She is no fool, that is as good as a declaration of war. “So what makes you think you will be King?”

“My brother does not want the crown, furthermore he is not fit to rule.”

“I see.” She spreads the cards out in a fanned formation on the table between them, her jewelry clinking together as she moves her palm over them, waiting to feel the warmth of the one she should pluck out first. As heat tingles her fingers, she snatches it up, laying the card face up in the centre of the wooden surface.

The Tower.

A snap of jaws. Bones crunching. A dragon and its rider falling from the sky.

Ceryse startles from her vision, meeting Aemond’s worried stare. “There will be a terrible accident, it will change the course of everything.”

“Does it involve me?” He asks.

“Truthfully, I do not know. I didn’t see enough.”

Aemond takes a deep breath, nodding for her to continue.

She passes her hand over the cards again, selecting one once she feels a prickle of hotness.

The Magician.

Aemond sits upon the Iron Throne. He wears an iron and ruby crown.

“You will rule as King of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Aemond’s eye widens. “What of Aegon?”

“I do not know. There is one more card to draw still.”

“Go on then.”

She picks it up as soon as she feels the subtle warmth.

The Hanged Man.

Aemond plunges into water. He is chained to his dragon. A sword is plunged through his seeing eye.

Ceryse’s gasps, her hand shaking as she lets the card flutter loosely from between her fingers.

“What is it? What did you see?!” Aemond demands.

She hesitates. When she’d learned her craft in Braavos one of the first rules she’d been taught with regards to divination is to never disclose the nature of a person’s death to them, should she happen to see it.

“I saw nothing.” She lies. “The card means sacrifice, release, martyrdom. You will serve Westeros well.”

“I think it is you who is the horrible liar.” He stares pointedly at her. “Tell me what you saw.”

“I saw nothing.” She repeats, her voice raising as her heart hammers in her chest. She puts the silvers back on the tabletop. “I couldn’t complete your reading fully. Take this back and go.”

He leaves the coins where they are, but stands and retrieves his cloak from the bed. “I bid you goodnight, Ceryse.” He nods at her as he moves towards the door. “Perhaps I shall return another time for the rest of my reading.”

“Do not come back here.” She urges, rising from the edge of the mattress and ushering him into the street.

She leans heavily against the door after closing it on him, the image of his lifeless body sinking downwards branded into her mind.

True to Aemond’s word, the next day brings about the coronation of Aegon Targaryen. Watching through her window, as the crowds filter through the streets towards the Sept, fills Ceryse with an eerie feeling. She will not join them. Nothing good will come of this. They are doomed to a terrible fate and she wants no part of it. She thinks back to how she had seen Aemond smile the previous evening and wonders how many more times he will feel such genuine happiness before his life is cruelly snuffed out.

The almighty crash, followed by a dragon’s roar that echoes through the city causes her to jump, and she knows she was right to avoid going to the sept. The distant screams of the smallfolk are a stark reminder of how easily her life could have been taken from her. She wonders if Aemond is okay, whether today will be the day that he meets the fate she foresaw.

It is early evening when she hears a knock at the door. She pulls it open and there he stands, dressed in the same ridiculously obvious disguise from yesterday; Aemond.

“I told you not to come back.” She says flatly.

“I know.” He shifts awkwardly. “I just…I went to look for you after the coronation and I couldn’t see your tent in Flea Bottom. I thought-”

“I didn’t go.” She interrupts.

“I can see that. I’m glad you’re alright.” He replies, relaxing slightly.

She smiles softly. “I’m glad you are too.”

“Does that mean I can visit you?”

She rolls her eyes. “On one condition; you don’t ask for any more readings or for me to elaborate any further on the one you already had.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“And it’s a long walk back to the Red Keep. Off you go.”

He smiles that smile again and she finds herself returning it, a warmth spreading through her chest.

She invites him inside and they while away the evening, drinking more of the ale that makes Aemond wince in distaste as he tells her all that happened at Aegon’s coronation. She hears about the tears he saw on his brother’s cheeks as he walked through the sept, about how Rhaenys had burst through the floor on the back of Meleys and had now surely made her way to Dragonstone to swear allegiance to Rhaenyra.

Ceryse listens in silent horror. She feels anguish for the lives needlessly lost over Rhaenys’ arrogant urge to make a statement, and dread gnaws at her insides over the war she knows will stem from the rivalry for the Iron Throne. She knows if she had any sense she’d push Aemond from her home and make sure he never returns, nothing good can come from inviting this man into her life. She cannot escape the image of his death, and yet she is drawn to him all the same.

He eventually leaves her home under the cover of darkness, with a promise to return soon. It is an unlikely friendship, a fortune teller and a Prince, but she enjoys his company and he seems to like hers too. 

He returns two nights later, a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“I thought we might indulge in something a little more refined than that swill you call ale.” He tells her.

It is viscous and sweet, subtly spiced. The flavours dance on her tongue and she is certain she has never tasted anything more exquisite. 

“It’ll do.” She shrugs, and there it is once more; the slight curve of his smile. Her heart flutters, though she is certain it’s the effects of the wine.

They chat idly for a while, until Aemond grows solemn. “This will be my last visit.” He tells her quietly.

“Oh?” She feels her chest tighten. She knows she will have to let him go eventually, but hadn’t anticipated ending their friendship so soon.

“I am to fly to Storm’s End tomorrow. My mother wishes for me to marry one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters, in order to strengthen Aegon’s claim to the Iron Throne.”

She nods, the acrid heat of jealousy blooming down her throat and into her chest. She despises the sensation, swallowing thickly in an attempt to rid herself of it. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order.”

They sit in uncomfortable silence for a few moments, neither one of them knowing quite what to say.

“I suppose I should go.” Aemond finally decides.

Ceryse stands to see him out. He turns to her as opens the door.

“Would you let me kiss you? Just to say goodbye. I-I can’t face never seeing you again and not knowing what it is to taste your lips.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Aemond, I’m sorry.”

He bows his head sadly, glancing up at her one final time before turning and walking away.

She closes the door, knowing in her heart she has made the right choice. She knows that the moment his lips touch hers she will beg him to stay, but he is not hers to keep. Their destinies are not entwined.

Life carries on as normal for Ceryse. Setting up her tent each day in Flea Bottom, before packing it down again and returning home at dusk.

Three days after Aemond leaves her he returns to her. He stands at her door soaking wet, his right eye rimmed red with tears.

“I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

She ushers him inside, stripping him of his wet clothes and hanging them in front of the small fireplace.

“May I stay here?” He sounds fragile, like a frightened child. “I cannot return home. Not yet.”

She nods, passing him a blanket to wrap himself in as he sits in front of the fire in his braies and undershirt. “What happened?”

He simply shakes his head, wet silver hair hanging in his face.

He doesn’t need to say it, but she knows it has happened. The Tower. 

They share the space of her tiny bed that night, and Aemond clings to her like she is a lifeline. She isn’t sure if he ever actually falls asleep, his breathing never deepens or relaxes, and he remains rigid against her despite the embrace he holds her in.

As the first soft rays of sunlight begin to stream through the small window, she rolls to face him. His seeing eye is closed, and his patch has slipped away from the one that bears his scar. She studies it intently, she had heard rumours that Prince Aemond wore a sapphire in his empty eye socket, but had never seen it for herself. It catches the light, shimmering brightly. She traces her finger delicately along the ragged line that mars his cheek and he grumbles, rolling to face her and pulling her tightly against him.

“Does it not bother you?” He asks groggily.

“No, you wear it well.” She replies honestly.

They lay together, the steady rhythm of their combined breathing the only sound in the room, until finally she builds up the courage to ask. “Aemond, why are you here?”

He closes his eye, inhaling shakily and it is only then that she notices he is trembling. “Aemond?”

He buries his face in the crook of her neck, his voice muffled. “You saw it, didn’t you? You said there’d be a terrible accident.”

She strokes a hand comfortingly through his hair. “I saw parts. What happened?”

“I didn’t mean to do it.” His voice cracks. “I only meant to scare him.”

A snap of jaws. Bones crunching. A dragon and its rider falling from the sky.

“Oh, Aemond.” She says sadly. “Who was it?”

“My nephew, Lucerys. The one that took my eye.”

There will be a terrible accident, it will change the course of everything.

“You have to go back, you must deal with this.” She tells him.

“I will.” He sniffles. “I will, just…not now. I want to feel anything but this, if only for a moment.”

He presses forward and his lips are upon hers. She kisses him back, his tears wetting her cheeks, wanting to give him a fleeting moment of happiness amidst his turmoil. The moment intensifies as their tongues meet and he pulls her on top of him before sitting up, her legs falling either side of his waist.

She gasps as his mouth moves from hers to trail white hot kisses along her jaw and down her neck, and she wonders where a man of such good breeding learned to commit such sinful acts. Her fingers tangle into his silver locks as he tugs down her shift to reveal her breasts, mouthing at them before sucking a hardened peak into his mouth. Arousal pools between her legs as she feels herself involuntarily grinding against him, his own desire more than evident through the thin cotton of his undergarments. 

“Aemond, we shouldn’t…” She says breathlessly, as his hand moves beneath her hem and up her thigh.

“I know.” He responds in a whisper. “But I do not have the willpower to stop.”

Her jaw goes slack as she feels his fingers move through the slick that has collected between her legs. A noise akin to a growl rumbles from the depths of his throat.

He withdraws his hand, freeing his cock and before Ceryse can stop herself she is sinking down onto it, moaning quietly at the gratifying stretch, as Aemond grits his teeth, his grip on her tightening.

He pulls her in for another passionate kiss, as she plants her feet flat on the bed, using the purchase to aid in meeting each of his upward thrusts. She wraps her arms around his neck and his mouth returns to her chest as he fucks up into her. Their pace is hurried and full of desperate need.

Ceryse’s hand drifts between her legs, circling her pearl as her and Aemond’s hips move together. Her other hand returns to his hair, her grip tightening as she feels her impending climax and he lets out a feral groan, releasing her nipple with a wet pop.

“I am not going to last…” He murmurs.

She nods, the familiar tightness coiling itself in her lower belly. “I won’t either.”

Speeding up her ministrations, she pushes herself over the edge, clenching around Aemond as she cries out in ecstasy, feeling light headed as every nerve ending comes alive. He is not far behind, pulling out and spilling ropes of pearly spend across her thighs and lower belly with a relieved grunt.

They collapse next to each other, both panting for breath. As the rush of euphoria wears off, reality sets in and a deep, aching sense of dread overwhelms Ceryse. She is certain Aemond feels it too, as he tenses up beside her.

“Will you really not tell me what you saw in the final card?” He asks solemnly.

She gulps. “It wouldn’t change anything. It’s better that you don’t know.”

He rises from the bed, dressing in silence, and she does the same.

“I won’t forget you.” He whispers, cupping her cheeks and pressing his forehead to hers, once he is ready to leave.

“Nor will I forget you.” She answers softly. “But I mean it this time, you cannot come back.”

“I know.” He says sadly.

He gives her one final soft kiss on the lips, before walking away. Ceryse turns away, unwilling to watch him go.

In the days that follow, Ceryse decides it is best if she leaves King’s Landing behind for good. Lucky for her, she has spent little of Aemond’s four silvers and is able to afford passage on a ship departing to Braavos, the city in which she learned the art of divination. She is eager to be away from Westeros before the war begins in earnest. She does not want to be on the continent as it burns and crumbles, and she cannot bear the thought of being there the moment that Aemond ceases to be.

As she stands on the sole of the ship, the wind whipping her auburn hair around her head, she pulls the Hanged Man from her pocket, watching it flutter in the breeze before she lets go, her final tie to the One Eyed Prince. She watches as it floats on the surface of the water before sinking downward, much as she has watched Aemond do the same.

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[saphirered]

Sending you a spice request from the prompts list! Steamy baths with Eris ;) can’t wait to see what you come up with!

Okay I may have gone a little filthy with this one. I'll own up to my spot in horny jail with the rest of you. 😘

It’s been a long day. The sun has yet barely reached it’s highest point and Eris is this close from incinerating the room for a moment of peace. Instead he is stuck dealing with the woes of politics, of presenting himself like an arrogant bastard, which he is admittedly but that does not mean he should let himself give in and speak his mind so freely. He has a reputation to uphold, a game to play and a throne to earn and until he sits upon it he shall play this game, however much it might annoy him to death. He will restrain the wildfire until freedom beckons. Oh how he longs for that freedom. His imagination gives him some escape and drowns out the useless words of bickering nobility. 

He may sit at his father’s side but his mind is elsewhere, far from this council room in a distant court. Instead Eris finds himself in the vast forests he calls home. The leaves crunch beneath his feet, the smell of the autumn air relaxes his mind and body. The cooling breeze turns his fingertips slightly cold and numb. He finally feels like he can breathe. There is no eyes to be wary of. There is a presence beside him, some incoherent and far too distant words and he wishes nothing more than to have those words overshadow what his senses back in the real world pick up on. He would recognise that voice anywhere. You’re right beside him. Memory replays the feeling of your hand in his, your fingers warming that gentle chill. He looks to his side and there you are, smiling. What a beautiful smile you have. What beautiful eyes. He could drown in their depth. He could be lost forever if you did not snap him out of it. No that wasn’t you. His name was called by different voice, one intrusive and unwanted. He’s pushed back to reality, away from you and he mourns the lack of your presence. The only relief his mind offers is the knowledge he will see you soon. 

You had known the promise he’d be back in your arms before you knew it was an empty one. You would never fault him for it. Eris, while a man of his word, could not control the circumstances of his extended life and responsibilities. Perhaps you might claim he was foolishly optimistic, but then again, he’s probably also aware of this fact and so it must be not but wishful thinking. Instead of a swift return to your side to watch the sunset you witnessed it on your own. Instead of a lovely dinner together you consumed your supper at the mostly empty table with the others left behind and excluded from the inter-court meetings. Not that you complain. You would rather be here enjoying a peaceful meal than deal with the bickering and moaning of idiots, vipers and idealists. You will attend if asked but will not mourn the lack of invitation. 

You’ve other means to keep busy and you are not one to sit around and wait for someone to whisk you away and so you did. You tended to the hounds, read up on the latest ongoings, socialised here and there, trained, made yourself useful, saw to your correspondence, went out for a ride, helped tend to the gardens and more. You kept busy on your own but every once in a while your mind would wander and think what your darling love would be up to, how he must be fighting the urge to roll his eyes or verbally tear apart another, how he must be polishing his shields both social and mental and weave a narrative that puts him at the advantage. You know Eris pretends it doesn’t affect him but you know the truth. You have seen him sit on the edge of the bed, his hands in his hair. You’ve watched him politely excuse himself to unleash the boiling of his blood upon some poor unsuspecting clearing. You have listened to his rambling about courtiers and high lords. You have held him when he questioned if it was all worth it. 

It is because of these things you know you do not mind the lack of his constant attention. In fact, you do not think you could bear it in the first place. So you dine without your lover, you find your own amusement come sundown. In the spirit of this time to yourself you have the staff draw you a bath. If you are to spend this night alone you will do so in comfort. A bath will ease the ache of your muscle and soothe your skin quite nicely. That’s where you find yourself now, a large bath filled with steaming water, the scent of bergamot in the air. You’ve sunken down to your neck, leaning back and enjoying the warmth. You’ve sent off the maids with the implication you will tend to yourself and do not need to be coddled by their nurturing grace. Peace and quiet and solitude, that’s what you require and that’s what you shall get. Your mind wanders far and pleasantly so. You forget the meaning of time and the water must have long since cooled to a lukewarm but you care little. 

“We shall conclude this meeting some other time.” Eris had both dreaded and longed for those words. The meeting has finally ended and so he is finally dismissed. It ended up taking another hour or so before he could detach himself from his own entanglement, before he could escape further dealings with the Night Court and turning down Helion’s open invitation to visit the esteemed libraries once more. Finally he left behind the blabbering high lords’ council and found himself back int he comforts of cool darkness graced with lantern light. The feeling of leaves crushing beneath his boots is a stark contrast from the marble and stone he’d been surrounded by for the day. He has missed the sunset but the stars breaking through the clouds offer some relief at last. 

With each step the takes, even after he walks through the threshold and back into wood and stone, the burdens stay at the doorstep, the further he gets from it, the more his body relaxes, or so he thinks. Everything feels easier. He chooses to ignore those in passing, using his power within his own court to brush them aside; nothing out of character for him. Nothing anyone can blame him for either. They expect him to be upset with another meeting ending in a stalemate waste of time. Let the court know. He will turn it to his advantage either way. Finally the portal to his comfort comes within sight and had he less restraint he might have ran and locked away the world behind him forever. Instead he slips through the doors quietly and closes them behind him. 

The candles are alight. The fireplace is but embers at this point. He simply throws in another log. A simple breath of air sparks the flames to life and allow them to catch. When the wood crackles Eris is satisfied. With whatever graces he found within him he carries himself to the bedroom, discards his shoes and socks, letting the cold run through his feet in an attempt to remind himself he is not but floating upon the winds of exhaustion. He unclasps his tailored jacket and casts it aside as if it were not the livelihood of the ones who made it. He has lost the will to care. He could have collapsed onto the bed when he first laid eyes on it but the gentle candle glow from the bathing room kept him standing. 

With a soft creak the door opens and within lies a sight beholden, a true treasure and one that should be captured for eternity. Perhaps he would owe the High Lady of Night a favour if that’s what it took to eternalise this. Perhaps the only thing stopping him is how you’d scold him for it. Perhaps he fears it might inflate your ego far past measure. Your eyes are closed. You are leaned back, head just above the water and neck fully exposed. The light graces your features just perfectly as it reflects. 

“The bed is far better suited for sleeping than a bathtub. No matter how comfortable you might look.” Eris slowly makes his way over to you. You take a deep breath and open your eyes. Your eyes. He forgets all he’s endured with but a single glance. Sadly this only lasts but a second. 

“You are quite right but I’m not tired. Just relaxed.” You let your fingers dance over the surface of the water. “You should try it some time, my love.” Even now you find it within yourself to humour him. 

“Some of us do not have the luxury to relax this much. I shall reserve and defend that right for you and you alone.” He takes your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss but then realises. “The water is awfully cold.” he simply states, still he kisses your fingertips. 

“Well I didn’t have you here to help me warm it.” The sultry look you give him has him nearly undone in that instant. How he’s longed for your company. The once certainty that keeps him from insanity in the chaos; the serenity you bring but what rushes through him right there is anything but serene and the implications you present are anything but innocent. Eris forgets the tiredness that haunted his body and finds a different spark of life. You’ve learned to light it, made an art form out of it. 

“How unbecoming of me.” He’s on his knees at the side of the tub and gently brings your fingers back beneath the surface of the cooling water. With but a brush from right where your legs are bent, all the way to just in front of your chest the water heats in but seconds, steam evaporating but those fingers do not stop trailing there. they trail a scalding but never painful path up your sternum and the column of your neck until they settle and lift your chin. That same heat burns in the kiss he plants upon your lips. Far too short. His lips pull away far too quickly and you might as well have been exposed to the frigid cold of winter then and there. By the looks of it Eris know it too. 

“If you are in no mood to assist me, I suppose I shall simply retire.” You rise exposing all the delicious curves of your body and giving him an ample view as the droplets run across your skin. Eris imagines he could kiss them all away, let his lips trail across you like they do and perhaps you shall grace him with the lovely sounds you make when he takes his lips to you. 

“You misunderstand, my dearest. But if you wish to cut short this bath I am more than willing and consenting to helping you to bed. Or we can stay here and enjoy a bath… or two.” You seem to weigh your options but simply by the way your pupils dilate; the way they do when he’s broken through your composure, to where your desire truly sparks and you will not be afraid to make him eat his words. 

You do not reply in words but simply hold out your hand and raise an eyebrow. Eris is quick to take your hand and help you out of the bathtub. You are dripping onto the floor but seem to care very little as you saunter over to the towels. The sway of your hips and sultry look over your shoulder are definitely intentional. Nevertheless you take a towel and pad yourself dry until he can’t help himself and gently eases the towel from you and equally gently uses it to pad you dry until you’re satisfied. Once you are you stand in front of him, close within arm’s reach. You trail a nail along the neckline of his shirt and sigh content. The wickedness in your eyes is but a giveaway of your next actions. Your fingers grasp onto his shirt and pull him to you, once more your lips meet his and this time the kiss is anything but soft and sweet. 

Your lips grace his in a feverish kiss. Eris does not hesitate to return the favour. He lets his hands wander until they settle on your behind. In one fell swoop you are off your feet and wrap your legs around his waist. Never once do you break your kiss. Your tongues meet and you wrap your arms around his neck clutching him ever closer. Like he has done many times before, Eris caries you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, graceful as ever and never once stumbling. He has committed this path to memory but finally he has to break away. You are a sight to behold; lips swollen, out of breath, and eyes filled with desire honing in on him. He takes great pride in being able to make you come so undone. he lays you down on the bed and you crawl backwards to give him space to join you among the pillows. 

Eris crawls overtop, trailing a path of kisses from your calves over your knees and thighs and you think, you hope he would settle among the apex of your legs but instead he just looks up at you and trails his lips up further across the plains of your stomach. It’s difficult to resist the urge to whine in protest and by the looks of it he noticed. Still he trails up and up until he meets your lips in another desire filled kiss so you decide fair is fair and let your hands wander over his clothed chest, down to where his shirt is tucked into the waistband of his fitted trousers and let your finger slip below that cursed waistband but never enough. All you do is release the shirt and Eris decides to undo your torture by taking it off entirely with a knowing look. 

“If you wished to get my out of my clothes you could have just asked.” He muses casting the garment aside. It’s torture to keep yourself together right now and not just succumb to carnal pleasure. This is just foreplay and it’s a game you’d hoped to win but you see your chances of success fleeting. To see him on his knees before you, cauldron boil you. 

“Dick.” You curse and his chuckle does not make you feel any different. 

“You’ll have to work harder for that.” He crawls back overtop just to place a peck upon your lips. When you go in for more, you feel his hand on your neck, to keep you at bay. His grip isn’t strong or suffocating, just present, floating and preventing your lips from meeting his. You huff. 

Eris’ response to your dissatisfaction is cruelty, he knows. Leaving kisses, letting his tongue trail he takes to your chest until you cannot hold back the whimpers and moans, until you fight to hold back the beg for more, only then does he trail lower yet always too slow. But then finally, it all pays off when he descends between your legs and puts his mouth to work, licking and kissing your inner thighs inching closer to the centre, until finally he does. He does not relent, not when your breathing increases and your whines turn to whispers of his name, not when your fingers settle within his hair and hold on, push him closer. When your legs wrap closer around him he grasps onto your thighs, spreading them further while placing a hand onto your abdomen just in the right place. He doesn’t relent when he feels you shudder and shake in your pleasure, not until you come down from that high and your body goes limp for but a second. 

He keeps going and soon without a moment of rest you tumble into pure ecstasy again and again. Only when you pull his hair, pull his face away from between your legs, when you are truly out of breath and your eyes are burning, your skin is on fire and you have lost the ability to speak, only then does he relent. You guide him up, to meet his lips. He knows you can taste yourself on his tongue when his dances with yours. He knows you need this right now. It’s the only break you’ll receive, especially when he feels your hands wander down below and undo the buttons of his pants. His own arousal is undeniable and while he would be more than satisfied using his tongue to make you cry his name, you have other intentions and ideas he’s more than happy to help you see through even if it takes all his restraint not to spill at your touch and your disheveled look when he parts and you help him out of his last clothes, casting them aside he cares not where. 

You have vengeance on your mind and when he is caught of guard, when you are so close to kissing him you push him back onto the bed and straddle him. Your fingers lace with his as you hold them on either side of his head. You lean down to kiss him once more with a wicked smirk. Perhaps it would be you who wouldn’t be done with him for some time. 

[picnokinesis]

hiii its godteeth ao3 again :) im reading roads for the first time (i LOVED the first two parts and then life got busy so im finally picking it up again) but the gallifreyan images in part 3 chap 2 r gone :( wanted to know if u had those anywhere bc this is literally my thoschei hc and id love to see them haha sorry if this is weird

Ahh hello!! Oh my days, I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story so far :D Thank you so much!

And agh yes, believe it or not I've been meaning to do the admin on those pictures for AGES and not gotten around to it! Basically what happened was I was hotlinking from discord in order to host the images somewhere without having to post them somewhere publicly before the chapter was out, but since then discord has made it so image links only work for twenty-four hours rip. And then I was like 'ugh I just need to make a post on tumblr about it and sort it out' but I've just not gotten around to it. But now, you've provided me the PERFECT place to post the images to restore them into their rightful places in the actual fic! It'll take me a couple of minutes to actually sort that, but for now:

This is the first one, which says 'TARDIS'. I picked the word TARDIS because I just needed a simple word that the Doctor would use in-character, but that also had multiple lines and a variety of different letters amongst the vowels and consonants.

Then we have the word 'everything' - again, this word was picked because it was perfect for showing what I needed to explain in the story, but it's also a word that was in the two-page spread that Koschei wrote, which as you know the Doctor is attempting to translate. So, probably, what happened here is that the Doctor saw the word 'everything' elsewhere on the page and got annoyed about how Koschei wrote it hahaha. So first we have how the Doctor writes it, followed by how Koschei writes it:

And then we have the two different ways of structuring a sentence, to show how the Doctor writes left-to-right in a line across the page, whereas Koschei structures his sentences in a circle going anticlockwise - which, of course, is what we would recognise as your standard Gallifreyan as it would be seen in the show. The sentence here actually reads 'my name is the doctor', if you were interested! (Although, actually it technically reads 'my name is the doktor' because, along with the Doctor, I think the symbol for 'c' is REALLY ANNOYING)

Fun fact: there are a huge number of fan-made Gallifreyan writing systems out there, and they are technically all symbol ciphers because they are just a bunch of symbols used as representations of the Latinate alphabet, rather than being it's own language system. This one in particular is the Sherman Gallifreyan system, which is most commonly used (and has actually been included in the show if I remember right haha), and it's a really nice one to use and turns out looking really nice. Apart from the letter C hahaha

Anyway!! Hope that was interesting, and I really hope you enjoy the rest of the story!! 💜💜💜

[cozyenigma]

Dinner Date

Word Count- 1002

Request?- Nope!

Summary- You'd run into the adventurer a few times now and... helped yourself to a few finds. You didn't expect him here or for the shoe to be on the other foot

Warnings- None

Your meal had barely even started when it was ruined. 

It was a nice place. A high end place. Places you usually have to make reservations for at least a couple weeks in advance. A place where you had to slip the hostess a very generous tip to get a table on short notice. You deserved it, you worked hard.

The view was spectacular, your glass was full of wine you hadn't even touched, and there was even live music playing softly from a far corner. This was the kind of place people from money dined in. You weren't from money, per say, but you could walk in those circles when you needed to.

You popped another appetizer, something bite sized you hadn't looked at the menu, and sat back in your chair. Treating yourself never tasted so nice. 

The waiter came by with your plate of food, steaming and glistening in the low light, and you were practically drooling. Plate had hardly touched the table when he showed up. The waiter has just turned to leave and, too taken with the food, you hadn't noticed the uninvited guest until the chair opposite moved.

You'd recognise the smug face anywhere. Even dressed up in a crinkled dress shirt and jacket, Illinois wasn't hard to miss.

"Really?" You deadpanned, spreading a napkin out across your lap.

"I can't drop in on an old friend?" He asks, leaning an elbow on the table and looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Not deigning to answer, you instead gesture up towards your head. The man takes a minute to catch your drift before his eyes dart up to that stupid cowboy hat. Even if it did have a certain charm, it didn't fit with his outfit nor did it fit with anything else in the building.

"What? I'm not taking it off for this place."

"You look ridiculous."

"I look amazing, excuse you." He readjusts in his seat, pointedly changing the subject. "Anyways, I wanted to catch up. See what you've been up to."

"None of your business and we're not friends."

Illinois almost looks put out as you say that. You shrug, finally taking a bite of your meal and nodding in approval.

"Can't help but notice this isn't your usual kinda haunt," he continues.

"What, I'm not allowed to have class?"

A short laugh that has a few older guests turn to look at the two of you. "You and I both know you're way more at home in some back alleys than fine dining."

You hummed around the next bite, idly twirling your fork. "So you're saying I'm a cheap date?"

"Something like that. Where'd we run into last?" Illinois looked almost annoyed as you shrugged. 

"I don't know... Outside some pawn shop in Rome?" 

"Try a side street in Rabat."

Feigning thinking about it for a moment, you nodded. "Yeah I guess we did bump into each other there too, huh?"

"Uh huh. Don't suppose I can ask for that statue back?"

"Oh you can. You're not gonna like the answer though." You pop another bite in your mouth. "I will say thanks for paying for the meal."

Illinois scrubs a hand down his face. "You sold it then? And the necklace? God don't tell me you pawned them, please."

"Psh, pawn shops are a rip off and you know it. Private collectors on the other hand... Well, there's a reason I'm going to them and not a museum."

"Do your clients care that you're peddling stolen artifacts?"

You were about to fire back when the waiter approached. Wine bottle in one hand, he haltingly asks if the gentleman would like to order. The fact that you had only gotten a table for one might be why you were both getting weird looks from the staff.

"Thanks but I'm fi-"

"He'll have what I'm having," you cut him off, tone far too pleasant. 

The waiter nodded and disappeared back to the kitchen. You couldn't help but take a bit too much enjoyment out of his glare.

"Oh cmon, you don't wanna enjoy what those artifacts got us?"

Illinois jabbed a finger your way. "There is no us cuz you stole them from me."

"I fail to see how my stealing is different from your stealing," you said, continuing before Illinois could, "You don't strike me as the kind of guy who goes through all the proper channels. Gets all the permits and paperwork in order before jumping right in. I had just as much right to those artifacts as you did."

You watched his jaw clench. "I offered to take you under my wing. It didn't have to be like this."

The conversation slammed to a halt again as the waiter brought a second plate of food. Delicious as it looked, Illinois didn't look away from you for a second. Didn't even say anything to the waiter.

"It's good, really," you said. You were close to polishing off your portion.

"You're gonna try and stick me with the bill aren't you?"

"And what, stiff the lovely staff here?"

"Oh I'm sure you'll tip generous.”

You shrugged, going to take a sip of your drink. "Not very gentlemanly of you, Illinois."

"Not very-"

The dessert had come then which, to be honest, you forgot you ordered. A tall, generous slice of chocolate cake with mouse and a mirror glaze and everything. It was perfect.

And then Illinois cleaved it in half with his fork. You could only watch in horror as he shoved at least a good third of that cake into his mouth. 

"Good choice," he said, still chewing.

"God you're disgusting," you push your chair back and stand, storming off towards the bathroom. 

"Disgustingly handsome?" He calls after you. You pointedly ignore him and the stares. 

He better enjoy that cake, you thought. Cuz there was a window in that bathroom just begging to be used as an escape route. You worked hard, you deserved an Illinois free night out anyways.

[girls-alias]

Explaining - Sam Winchester

Title: Explained - Sam Winchester.

Words: 520

Relations: Sam Winchester X Reader.

TW: Arguing

Prompt:

Sam explaining what hunting is to you.

"So, you're still saying that you work with your brother and you're mechanics?" I asked in disbelief as Sam walked through my apartment with a black eye. 

"Yeah," Sam shrugged as though he was already sick of my questions. Sam and I are best friends, I don't know why he's keeping secrets from me! 

"You're so full of it. You don't think I notice when you both come back all battered and bruised? If you're a mechanic how did you get those bruises on your ribs last month?" I asked in an annoyed tone. I will get my answers once and for all. He paused as he turned around and looked at me, thinking. I raised my eyebrow waiting for his lies. He finally sighed before taking a seat at my dining table and gesturing for me to do the same. I took a seat across from him to show him how serious I was being. 

"I don't want to lie to you anymore so I will give you the complete and honest truth. You have to believe me," his eyes were pleading like he thought our friendship was in jeopardy. I wonder if I will think of him the same way if I know the truth? Maybe It would be easier if I was ignorant to the truth. I nodded anyway to show my support to him. "Dean and I hunt and kill monsters," he said simply confusing me slightly. I thought of mythical creatures when he said monsters but it is quite a vague term. 

"You're like a bounty hunter, you hunt murderers?" I asked not really understanding his statement. He winced slightly. 

"We hunt and kill ghosts and demons, vampires, werewolves and just about everything evil." He added and from the look in hi eyes I knew to believe him. I staying silent for a second as Sam surveyed my expression probably to try and figure out what I was thinking. I nodded slightly as I slowly came to grips with it. 

"So, do you just run into them?" I asked and Sam now looked a little puzzled.

"Well, no we go out looking for them. That's why we're gone for months because they can be anywhere really." He explained making me nod. I thought for a second. 

"Can you show me how to look for them?" I asked and he looked extremely surprised. 

"You want to hunt with us?" He asked to which I chuckled. 

"Not really but I can always do some searching here while you guys are out and about killing other monsters. Might mean I see you guys more," I shrugged and Sam smiled widely. 

"That would be great," Sam added before he started the lessons. We started off with omens and how to recognise them. I went around every day, everything was so fascinating, the books, the stories. I can't wait to really help. I can be the person behind the computer in every spy movie. I chuckled to myself as I continued reading. Sam looked over his book at me with a smile.

Masterlist

[oro-e-diamanti]

CYOA - Part One

Masterlist | Taglist

Word count: 980

Warnings: none

A/N: Hope you enjoy the start of this! Get voting and decide how the story will continue!

“This is the worst fucking idea,” you mumble to yourself as your best friend drags you into the main arena, clutching your wrist in unparalleled excitement.

“I did not just hear you say that because this is, in fact, the best fucking idea in the world and when I tell you that you’ll share my opinion in about…” Bella trails off to check the clock on her phone. “... twenty minutes when they’re done playing their first song, I mean it.”

The world around you seems to explode with sound as you realise just how many people are gathered in this place. The arena is filled with excited chatter, some sort of playlist put up to provide somewhat unnecessary background music to get everyone even more hyped, and your head is spinning with the amount of awe-inspiring outfits around you.

Bella did her best to help you out, knowing fully way this isn’t exactly your scene and you barely even heard of the band you’re seeing, but you almost feel like an invisible wallflower next to the mass of short skirts and seethrough tops and harnesses adorning various body parts. Even if the dress and the fishnet tights and the bold lipstick are already a novelty to you.

“Yes! Barrier spot!” Bella chimes, once again pulling you with more strength than necessary.

“Barrier… on the sound desk?”

She holds back on rolling her eyes, just barely. “If you looked closely, you’d see that we’re not here to be excited about the sound desk but about the little stage behind it. We’re way too late to get anywhere towards the front in this crowd, but we’ll be first row for the acoustic set in the middle of the show.”

You nod along, only halfway following what she’s talking about but trusting her anyway. She’s been to a number of Måneskin concerts - and has told you the ins and outs in incredible detail, whether you asked for it or not - and you know she’ll make sure both of you will have a good time.

And you do.

You only recognise about three songs in the whole set, but you soon find it doesn’t matter in the slightest - in fact, a few minutes in you’re sure no one would even think of you as a complete newbie anymore. You dance, you shout along to lyrics you don’t know, you let Bella twirl you around during a slow song.

What at first looks like an annoying spot to stand turns out to be a blessing in disguise. While crew members keep politely asking to be let through as you’re right next to where the barrier opens toward the sound desk, it is also the very way that the singer and guitarist (“Damiano and Thomas!” Bella screams into your ear.) pass as they enter the little secondary stage for their acoustic set. And you’d be damned if you don’t see Damiano send you a wink as he passes you by. Your attempt to catch Thomas’ eye too - just as gorgeous as the singer, simply in a different way - goes undetected as his attention seems to be solely trained on his guitar.

And while you find that a bit of a shame, you can’t deny you enjoy watching him and Damiano up close, if just for those few songs. Maybe you wish you could have seen the other two (“Vic on bass! The one behind the drums is Ethan, it’s so annoying he’s so far back because he’s so fucking pretty!”) quite as intimately.

The evening goes over much too quickly. You don’t even have to admit it, liking it after all, the band, the crowd, the atmosphere, because Bella can see it all over your face.

“Told you!” she squeals. “Told you that you’d love it!”

You simply let her hug you, accepting her overwhelm of emotions, happy to share a moment that is so important to her, even if you’d never quite gotten into… fandom like that. She spins the both of you around a little, just enough for you to spot something on the floor, in front of the barrier, where people are moving away and making their way outside the arena. Bella barely notices you breaking the hug and walking around her to pick it up, already engrossed in her phone.

“Ooh! Brand new information!”

You don’t pay her much attention as you flip over the item in your hand, but she continues.

“According to, uh, my sources, there’s a good chance they might turn up at a certain club later. And with “them” I mean the band. Obviously. And with “a certain club” I mean the club we’re definitely going to be heading to asap. What do you say?”

It’s a pass. An AAA pass - access all areas. A female name on it, no photo. Someone seems to have lost it.

And now you’re in for a decision.

Option A: The pass really isn’t your problem. Someone’s lost it and someone will come find it again. You drop it on the floor and decide to go with Bella’s plan. You’ve had a good night so far, you might as well keep up the energy and go out, right?

Option B: Someone might get in trouble for loosing their pass and it kind of makes you feel bad to have it in your hands and not help out. No one at the sound desk reacts to your attempt to get their attention, so you decide to go up to the front of the room and wave down a security guard to hand it over. He has to take it, doesn’t he?

Option C: As soon as Bella sees the pass in your hand, you can see in her eyes that she wants you to do one thing and one thing only: Make the most of this unlikely opportunity and sneak backstage. What’s the worst that could happen?

Taglist: @wonderlandishell @writingmaneskin @myleftsock @dianachudova @cheese-toastie-11 @Ursulalurks (won't let me tag you, I'm sorry)

[quills-of-freedom]

Crossroads

Chapter III & IV

Tag-List 🐙

@dreamerdeity

@XOYOURONLYAMORRXO

@koo-detat

@5feetofwrath

@lilshades

@1endoftheworldlife

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@setangel

Chapter I Chapter II

Unlike the previous chapter, your choice here will affect your ending. So be prepared.

Warnings: Smut. Violence. Angst. 18+ only, please.

Chapter III

Old Friends

Regardless of the drama that had taken place the night before, you had returned to your room to find Eren sitting on your bed, having returned to your abode. The both of you had time to cool off, the smouldering flames of tempers flickering down into now-just smoking coals.

You had both apologised, best friends shouldn't really be arguing like this, after all. You explained how you weren't ready for anything with Eren, at least, not yet. He understood and you both fell asleep as he held you in his arms. If you weren't ready for anything else, then so be it. He just took in the moment as you softly breathed in your slumber, your warm back pressed against his bare chest.

Waking up and feeling the cold, empty bed beside you was dejecting and deflating, the sour taste of disappointment is tainting your mouth, as you sit up gauging the empty room. The sunlight beaming through your window told you that Eren had taken the time to open the drapes before he left. It also told you that you slept way longer than you had been supposed to.

As you hurriedly get washed and changed, you notice a small, handwritten note on top of the polished clothes chest.

It's all for us.

Your brow wrinkles at the words, wondering what he meant by that, and why he'd left so early in the first place.

Eren had been one for riddles as of late, which was beyond annoying. He'd grown into a pretty stoic man, although if you knew him well enough, you could easily recognise that fiery temper still lay underneath the cold mask. It was always incomprehensible, to say the least, what was ever going through that mind of his at any given time.

The irony of how opposite his façade now, from when he was younger, wasn't lost on you as you quickly dress and leave your room, locking the door behind you. Back then, you wouldn't need to wonder what was on his mind, because that big mouth of his would spew it out anyway, getting him into trouble.

You weren't sure which version of him you preferred. Both seemed to be a huge pain in the ass.

Being in such a rush in leaving your room, you didn't even notice the figure looming by the side of your door as you turn your back to head towards the stairs.

"Hey." A familiar voice floated. "I finally found you."

Your movements freeze, your pupils dilating as your body switches instantly into flight or flight. You'd recognise those vocals anywhere, and it wasn't good news.

"Oh, hey." You feign a small smile as you turn to look at potentially the second most dangerous man in town right now, second only to Eren.

"Been looking for you all morning. You're not usually one to sleep in so late." Floch frowns, his acting skills of concern laughable.

"What do you want, Floch?" You ask, your eyes focusing on any sudden movements he may make.

Floch's growing influence over this rebellion was extending at an alarming rate, and if there's one thing you've learned from events over the years, is that too much power given to the wrong hands speaks disaster for anyone within the fallout range. His actions lately have been erratic, and out of character and you'd wondered if Shiganshina broke him - he shouldn't even be alive right now.

"What do I want?" He repeated your words. "I want you to stay away from Eren."

Your head flickers left to right, then back to Floch; searching for whether this was a weird joke and Eren was watching from nearby, or looking for where the fuck Floch gets his audacity from.

"I don't quite follow." You settle with as a response.

"Keep your whore legs closed, and away from Eren."

"Excu-"

Before you could even gather up the necessary rage, he'd pulled out a dagger, pressing the blade harshly against your cheek. His hand tightened around your neck as he holds you against your door.

Your eyes flitter around, someone, anyone should be walking around here, it's the barracks after all.

"I don't think your friends are going to help you." He frowns, pushing the blade a little further into your cheek, now drawing blood.

You whimper in pain, your thoughts still not really catching up with the situation. Maybe because you'd not long gotten out of bed. Or maybe, your mind refused to believe Floch Forster from cadets, the one who would break into tears if he was pushed too hard, was now threatening your life.

"Your friends have been arrested. The chain of command is now broken, we're winning. The only reason you're not behind bars is because Eren specifically told me not to. But hear this... y/n. If you so much as think about getting in the way, or interfering with our plan, I will not hesitate to kill you."

"Eren would kill you himself if you harmed any of his friends." You reply, breathless as if you'd just ran a marathon.

"Maybe. But your stupid little minds... all of you. Can't comprehend what he's doing for us. Don't you see?! He is going to lead us all to freedom. Why can't you understand this?!"

You don't reply. You don't really know what to say. You feel the warm trickling of blood now flowing down your cheek.

"Unlike you and your little crew, I know this is bigger than me. If he kills me for assuring the plan runs smoothly, then so be it."

"Where are the others?" You mutter.

Floch can see the fury behind your orbs - although your face is calm, he can feel the bloodlust that was beginning to simmer seep out of your entirety.

He begins to squeeze your neck. "I don't see why you need to know where they are, considering you'll be staying well away, right? Don't go trying any heroics now - if you all behave and fall into line, no one will get hurt. This is the new order of things so you'd better get used to it."

You wheeze as he lets go of your windpipe, coughing while he takes a step back, replacing his knife into his belt, hiding it with his military coat.

"It's always so good to see an old friend." He mutters as you hold your sore neck.

He turns on his heel and makes for the stairs. "Don't think I'm joking." He calls as he walks. "I will kill anyone who gets in the way."

As you regain your breath, you wondered if this were actually a weird dream and you were still asleep in the arms of Eren. But as the seconds click by, you're pretty convinced now that it was, in fact, the reality right now.

What are you up to now, Eren?

You and your friends had always supported him - even his attack on Liberio. Why would he want them locked away?

Unless...It was to keep them safe? Maybe?

You hear the loud bang of the front door to the sleeping quarters slam as Floch leaves the building.

What is going on?!

How you wished your captain were here right now. Levi would know what to do, and certainly, no one would be getting arrested if he were around.

But he wasn't.

He was away, babysitting Zeke somewhere.

It was all up to you, once again. And the first thing you do is the opposite to what Floch warned you not to do.

Interfere.

You hum to yourself in small amusement as you head back into your room. You were chastising Eren's previous juvenile behaviour only moments ago, and yet here you are, risking your life for your friends.

Because you knew, they'd do the same for you.

The plan?

You weren't sure yet. But as you grab your own dagger from your top drawer, you gaze down at the note that was still laying upon the wood.

It's all for us.

"Please, don't do anything stupid..." You whisper, half to yourself, half hoping that somehow Eren would telepathically pick up on your advice.

Wishful thinking. It's Eren, after all.

-

The bustling marketplace of Trost sounded the same as it did most mornings. Loud calls of fishmongers, merchants of trinkets and meat trying to sell their wares were heard over the nonsense chatter of the townsfolk, trying to do their morning shop. "Fresh fish for sale!"

"Fifty percent off all materials, they must go!"

Porco tried to drown out the noise as he steadied his breathing. He always got wound up before a mission, always ready to leap into action when needed. And he is most certainly about to be needed.

Hands within the pockets of his military coat, he fiddles with his fingers trying his darned hardest to not look too suspicious as he awaits the signal to initiate the plan.

"Mom, can we get that really nice butter cream again? It tasted so good last time!" "No, sweetheart not this time. That was a treat." "Aw --."

"Didn't you say he was married?" "Mhm, I sure did. And he's going around saying things like this to Mabel." "No ~!"

"Sixty pounds for how much?" "I know, that was my reaction too -"

Closing his eyes, Porco tuned out the various conversations that were passing him by on the street.

These people don't seem much different to folks back home.

It bothered him slightly; so far he'd not witnessed any cruelty or acts of violence as he was prepared to witness the horror of the islands of devils. But surely, it was happening, right? Somewhere?

Just stay focused on the plan. Magath is going to cause a distraction, and I run in and grab Pieck. God, out of the two of us, why did she get taken? She was the most convincing.

They'd only been within the town for a total of seven hours, split up for two. It was lucky he'd seen her being marched to jail by two of those Jaegerists. How she managed to slip up and get captured was something he'd have to ask her when he got her out of there.

Porco didn't even know what the distraction was going to be, only that it was big and was planned to be blamed on either the Jeagerists or the previous chain of command. They'll blame one another and cause more conflict, making their job of subterfuge even easier. The simple acts of war came so naturally to Marley. They'd been power-hungry and at war for, well centuries now. If creating confusion and mass panic were a skill, they'd be in line for first place.

Hopefully, they hadn't figured it out yet; she wouldn't wilfully speak, and maybe they'll think it was all a misunderstanding.

"Oh honey, look at those silk threads... they'd be perfect for Isabelle's dress." "What, again? What more do you want me to buy? You're bleeding me dry, woman."

It was funny. If Porco kept his eyes closed, he could pretend he was back home. Home... How Reiner stayed here for all those years was beyond him, this island was so outdated, they didn't even have the know-how to take photographs. Degenerate, backward scum. When his mind reminded him of you, and that familiar warmth spread across his chest, it instantly lifted his mood. Where are you...?

Please don't be nearby... Don't want her caught up in -

His thoughts were interrupted by a huge boom - the ground shaking and panicked screams now filling the air from the people around him who were happily perusing only moments ago. Porco staggered, the rocking was so violent and the crash so loud... Jesus Magath, did you have to do it so close?!

A plume of dirtied smoke pillared behind some buildings not too far away as people began to run clear of the market.

"Is it the Titans again?!" "I don't think so, they don't smoke, or do they?!"

Porco placed a finger in his left ear, giving it a shake. The explosion was so loud, it'd blown out his eardrum. Luckily I can just heal it back.

His opening was made when he saw two Jeagerists scrambling from the building to take a look at what was going on.

Bingo.

He lazily pushes himself off the wall and begins to take quickened paces towards the door of where he saw Pieck being taken to, when a familiar flash of colour caught the corner of his eye.

Time slows and all of his surroundings meld together as his chest begins to feel tight. His extremities tingle and all breathing cease its usual rhythm as he sees glimpses and flashes through the ensuing chaos of panicked civilians. His cheeks burn as if his brain isn't exactly registering what was happening around him, but focused entirely on -

"your name..." His lips part as he see's you sprinting through the masses. But you had a purpose in your run - you weren't in a mindless panic.

His initial instinct is to sprint over to you, to take you away from the danger. To finally meet you... His large adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his mouth suddenly becoming dry.

Pieck needs you.

His teeth bare into a snarl of intense frustration. "Damn it!" He hisses, tearing his line of sight off you and towards the door. He kept his movements quick, not knowing if he would have the willpower to stop himself if you noticed him. If it were even real, anyway, and he hadn't just been conjuring up dreams of having conversations with you.

Within a flash he was in the building, slamming the door behind him and leaning his back against the solid oak, his breathing deep and staggered. The sounds of chaos outside became more muffled but it didn't make much difference under the sound of his heart beating within his head.

"Pieck?" He called, taking a step forward.

He was only greeted with silence from within so he proceeded with caution, his pace quick and movements swift as he kept his eye out for anyone who was willing to get in his way.

The building shook as a second loud rumble vibrated the earth, Porco's eyes flying to the ceiling and wondering if their shitty infrastructure would hold such a battering.

He wasn't even totally sure if this was Magath's doing; their country was in such a state it could actually be them fighting amongst themselves. He wasn't exactly told what the distraction would be, just that he'd "know it when he saw it."

He didn't even want to begin to think of how he managed to not only get into a building undetected but to rig up explosives too. Maybe it was Jaeger. Hell, at this point, it could have even been Reiner.

"Pieck!" He called out again.

"Pock!" Pieck breathed in relief, coming up from a set of stairs at the end of the hall.

"Jesus, Pieck what happened?"

Her eye was purple and swollen as well as a cut, bleeding lip.

"Don't worry, I got him worse." A weak laugh left her as she hurried over. "They were questioning me, they know we're here but don't know who we are."

"How do they know we're here?"

"There's a traitor. Yelena... or maybe even..."

"Zeke?!"

"I'd like to hope not..." She sighs, now reaching him. "In any case, they left when what sounded like an explosion happened outside. They kept one with me but - well, it didn't end well for him. When I heard you calling for me I just went for it."

"Good girl." Porco smirks, the both of them now pacing back towards the door. "So, what do we do now?"

"We need to rendezvous with Magath and receive further orders... as soon as Eren Jaeger shows himself, that's when they're going to release the Armoured."

"So Reiner's here now?"

"Yeah, somewhere."

As soon as the door opens, Porco's eyes glue to where he'd seen you to find...

You were gone.

The streets had quietened from civilian screams but were now replaced by roars of orders from military personnel.

"Well, we got you out. We should leave." Porco frowns, gently guiding her by her back away from the gathering pools of soldiers.

"I wouldn't worry too much." Pieck explained as they quickly stepped down the street. "I think they saw an unfamiliar face, a woman, no less, who was alone. I think they just took their chances. I don't think they really thought I was reconnoitring"

"Well that's good at least." He muttered.

They freeze in place when they hear a person roar: "The prisoners are escaping!"

"Shit!" Porco spits, about to set off into a sprint.

Pieck stopped him, looking into the air behind him. "N-no, it's not us. Look."

Turning, he can see a building not too far away from where the explosion was, island devil's on their wicked ODM gear flying around like a swarm of mosquitoes around a dead carcass, gun fire now echoing around.

"Jesus, this place is a mess." Porco comments, his lip curling up in disgust. "Even Fort Slava wasn't this bad."

Pieck points at them, her face worried under the swelling. "That's team Levi. Which means they got arrested, meaning they've escaped. Meaning -"

"They're against the rebellion." Porco finished. "Which means -"

"Don't get your hopes up. Just because they're going against Eren Jaeger, doesn't mean they'll be on our side."

They watch as the Jeagerists fight the survey corps, the anti-personnel gear beginning to fly in from other areas of the town.

"We need to get out of here." Pieck frowns. "Come on."

She goes to leave when she notices Porco's frozen expression, his jaw tense and eye wide. He watches as your group gets closer, buzzing and avoiding gunfire. He can see you, swerving and gliding with such skill. He'd only seen you moments before... how did you even-?

"Pock! We need to go!"

"I can't she's gonna get herself killed."

"What? Who?"

-

It was like you were supposed to rescue your friends; the stars aligned and just as you needed that distraction, the old weapons workshop exploded. You didn't know why. Or who did it. You just thanked whatever ethereal beings were watching over you as you took advantage of the situation, busting your pals out of the clink like some old weird western story you'd read once from Armin's parents' "forbidden" collection.

"Split up!" You hear Jean roar as you, Armin and Connie begin to struggle, more Jeagerists in-coming. "Meet at the rendezvous point!"

You obey, full faith in Jean's directions as you lower yourself into an alleyway, flying between houses with two Jeagerists hot on your trail, their gunfire loud and aggressive. It was becoming harder to avoid the bullets, luck playing a huge part but that only lasts so long.

You try to quickly smother the panic that was rising in your throat, propelling yourself higher into the sky and blasting your gas as fast as it could go. You remember back in cadets, Jean was the one who taught you how to fully utilise your gas, all while saving your supply. How to use your body's momentum, let that do all the work.

Why am I thinking of this now?

You wince as you glance back, seeing the two follow suit and pull themselves higher into the sky also.

Is this my life flashing before my eyes? Am I really gonna die to Floch's little flunkies?

The irony would be such a bitter pill to swallow. Fighting and training all these years, building your skillset towards surviving Titans... and you're going to be killed by two humans.

We've been through this already! You think, the situation is reminiscent of four years ago, when Eren was taken by Kenny Ackerman.

Such simpler times.

You swing faster, taking Jean's advice and using your body weight to gain speed, not seeing the large claw further back behind you swat one of the men down like a fly. You hear the cry of anguish, your head automatically turning to look when - Ting.

Your dropped focus, even for that one second meant you missed your mark with your hook, clinking off a large brass bell of one of the calling towers, your body weightless as you begin to fall to the side, swinging and turning from your one embedded hook.

The wind is taken from your lungs as you cascade down towards the street, about to swing flat into the building you were connected to. As you fall and turn towards the direction of where your hunters were, your eyes enlarge in horror. Instead of the street, instead of your pursuers was a huge open mouth, jaws the size of those metal horse carriages you'd seen in Marley, those things they called "auto-mobiles". Teeth looking like they were carved from steel coming right at you, the darkness enveloping your vision as you realise too little too late, it was that jaw titan you'd seen in Liberio.

And it was going to swallow you whole.

You hadn't even heard it approach. How did it get here unnoticed?!

You don't have time to think about anything else as you collide with something soft. Something wet, and slightly smelly.

A scream pushes with force from the bottom of your lungs and you're enshrouded in darkness, the large tongue lapping over your whole body, soaking you and making it hard to breathe.

Your body jerks around, thick mucus covering your face making the task of breathing even harder.

You scream again, your blades...well they were in there with you, somewhere, but this heavy mush was preventing you from much if any movement. You try to push yourself up desperately within the blackness but the momentum of this beast's movements just slammed you back down. You felt weightless for a moment like you were falling again before a violent slam knocked all precious breath from your body.

Strange enough, although you couldn't see anything within the darkness, small flecks of coloured glitter began to dance in your peripheral vision, fuzzing their way closer and closer to the centre.

I'm going to pass out...

You sink into the underside of the tongue, feeling gravity press down into you as the jaw titan starts scaling the wall out of Trost.

Why isn't it... eating me... I... can't breathe...

You felt weightless again but at this point you weren't even sure if it were real or you were just starting to leave your body, to head to wherever your fallen comrades before you had gone to.

Your eyes squint as the wet cavern is suddenly filled with light once more, your body is ejected from the mouth as you crash onto the floor. You immediately pull thick strings of mucus off your mouth as you take in a deep breath of sweet, sweet air. Your blades crash down with you, still attached to your gear your clothes soaked with concentrated Titan saliva.

You push your backside away from the beast, hearing the familiar hiss of a body ejecting from its Titan form. You'd heard it before plenty of times with Eren.

Your eyes scan your surroundings in a panic, hands finding the hilts of your blades as you notice you're at the edge of a thick treeline, Wall Rose not too far off in the distance.

As your body grasps as much air as it could to make up for lost oxygen, your chest swelling and shrinking - you watch the figure emerge from the nape of this monster. The steam always made it hard to see, at first, the figure leaping off the empty shell with ease before making its way towards you.

Your trembling arm holds up your sword as you were still sat on the ground, all strength having left you.

When...

You notice his eyes first as he stands there, praying you recognise him too, and that it hadn't been all in his head - his chest heaving just as much as your own.

The Titan scorch marks framed the lower parts of his eyes but never the less, those desperate, pleading eyes belonged to -

"Porco...?" Your lips part in a gasp, getting to your feet but staggering back due to lack of remaining strength.

"So you do recognise me." His voice cracks, his brow still pulled back. "It wasn't all in my head?"

Your own head shakes, too shocked to form tangible words, beautiful lips still parted in sheer disbelief.

He hesitantly takes a step forward to gauge your reaction.

"Y-you... you're...?"

"Are you going to kill me?" His voice waivers, expression pained.

Without removing your dazed eyes from his, you press your fingers onto the two release switches, your gear dismantling and falling from your waist with a loud clink to the floor.

"You saved my life." You test the waters from your side now, one step forward.

That was all he needed.

Rupturing into a run towards you, within moments his body collides with yours, his large arms encasing your entire form as your head buries into his solid chest. He grits his teeth together in a furious attempt not to cry, his eyes tearing up regardless.

His heart pounds against your head as he trembles over your form.

"You're real..." You gasp. "You're the Jaw titan? How? Is that why we can talk? I don't know how it works -"

"Me neither." He lets out a breath of air with a smile as he rests his chin on top of your head, his eyes closed as he cherishes this moment. "But I'm sure glad it does."

Chapter IV The Crossroads

You sit in Porco's shirt and coat, your clothes drying on a tree branch as you sit at your little camp just a little way into the tree line. Porco built you a fire to keep you warm as you dry. His shirtless form sat on a fallen log looking into the fire.

"Pieck will be arriving soon." He mutters. "I told her to meet me here. I kind of went off mission to save you. But I couldn't ignore you being chased down like some rodent."

"Thank you." You reply with sincerity. "I'm not sure how much longer I would have lasted. But Porco... if our dreams were real, why didn't you tell me? I saw you in Liberio... we could have changed how things pla -"

"No." He cuts you off with a melancholic sigh. "What we have is just between us. No one else would understand. And even if they did... it wouldn't change anything. You and everything else is... separate."

Your eyes lowered. It was hard to hear, but you knew he was right.

"Will Pieck try to kill me?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I put my neck out for you, she understands me that much, at least."

"Right."

"They already know we're here so... are you warm enough?"

You nod, your face burning slightly. "Yes, thank you."

Porco's eyes catch glimpse of your bare calves from under his long coat, respectfully glancing away into the flames as his nose starts to sink into a shade of red.

"So, that means..." You begin, wondering how to pick your next words. "You work alongside Reiner, right?"

He stops for a moment as if mere words froze him in place.

"Yeah."

"Oh..."

"You two were, together, right?"

You nod. "Up until he betrayed us and left."

Porco presses his lips together tightly. So many foreign emotions surged through him; envy, anger, even a pepper of pity. To have turned his back on her must have taken every ounce of strength he had. Maybe he should start cutting the guy some slack.

"Is he here?"

"You know I can't answer that."

This was going to be more complicated than you'd initially thought.

"Yeah, he's here."

The familiar, slightly gruff vocals made you both jump and turn to see Reiner standing there, large arms folded against his equally large chest.

Your breath was taken away instantly.

He'd aged well. His eyes which had witnessed more than enough horror for one lifetime were framed with slight crow's feet, his handsome face now peppered with a short amount of facial hair. His serious expression, and his eyes although framed differently, those honey orbs hadn't changed a bit.

An automatic response was getting to your feet.

"Don't worry, he won't try anything." Porco warned, his gaze piercing the blonde. "Isn't that right?"

"Well, you didn't waste any time, did you Porco?" His frown evident and pulling further down his beautiful face. "What was it you said you were going to do when you saw her?"

"Don't."

"Take real good care of her? Well good job, because now the plans gone to shit. Pieck isn't coming, Magath sent me instead."

It took every ounce of strength within Reiner not to look at you. Or maybe, that made this easier. One look into your eyes he so desperately missed, would melt him like butter.

"What? Why?"

Normally, Reiner would have shot a look in your direction, but he couldn't bring himself to. "We're really going to talk about this in front of the enemy?"

His vocals were dull but his words sharp, the blade of betrayal sinking into your breast all over again.

"I wouldn't be the enemy if you hadn't made me the enemy." You hiss, emotions thrashing from the reins of control.

"Why is she here?" Reiner ignored you, keeping his gaze on the shirtless Porco. "And why is she wearing your clothes?"

"Don't act like you can't hear me!" You call, taking a step forward. "After everything you've done, you can at least acknowledge me! Look at the mess you left behind you in your wake of death and destruction!"

Reiner's pained eyes finally glance over to you.

He holds the gaze for a few seconds, not knowing what to say. Where would he even begin? You're taken aback when you realise he's choking back the water that was threatening to spill out from his warm optics.

A tense, pregnant silence falls over the mini makeshift camp.

"Look, there are more important things going on right now..." You manage to choke out a whisper. "Figure out what you want to do. As soon as my clothes dry I'll go. Okay? Both of you pretend you never saw me, and I'll do the same."

Desperation clawed at both of the men's throats. They'd waited so long to see you, and now you were leaving. Without any conversations about... well, anything.

"No." Reiner muttered.

"No!" Porco snarled at the same time, his anger directed at Reiner.

They lock into a stare, the tension thick and just seeping with testosterone.

"Look..." Reiner then lets out a sigh. "Pieck has been assigned to bring Eren out into the open tomorrow afternoon. That's when it's all going to go down. We're both needed. Y/N."

Your head glances back up at your ex-lovers eyes.

"You can either stay here with Porco, head back to Eren or come back with me to my camp. It's your choice. There are... things I'd like to talk about with you before I kick the dust. If not, I understand. If you want to head back to Eren, we'll have to hold you here until we move out - not risking you informing him of anything."

"I don't even know where he is." You breathe with honesty. "Wouldn't it be wise to just, you know... kill me?"

The two then exchange glances.

"I don't think either of us is prepared to do that if we don't have to." Reiner replies. "Besides... Haven't you realised yet? I knew Porco would be a bit slower to catch on, but not you."

"Wha- what are you talking about?" Porco frowns.

Reiner's volume increases, his emotions now getting the better of him. "How dumb all this is. How we're all the same. Just pieces in a game. Yeah, some of us are knights. Some are pawns. Some are queens... but we're all being played against one another for all the wrong damn reasons. And I'm getting pretty fuckin' tired of it, wouldn't you say the same?"

Your head bobs in affirmation, the sliver of the Reiner Braun you once knew shining through the deep, dark abyss of his lost personality. He's still in there.

All you can hear in the tense silence is the crackling of the firewood, the flames dancing so carefree it was almost worthy of envy.

"No, I see it." Your whisper barely was audible.

"So... What's it going to be?" Porco asks you, his fingers fumbling together anxiously as he awaits your decision.

You feel like screaming from the top of your lungs. This impossible decision lay before you - you wanted to just yell for the three of you to just stay together. But you knew that wouldn't be possible. Would you go with your previous love, reconcile and hear him out?

Or

Do you stay here, with Porco the one who so far hasn't betrayed you and you've finally met after years of on-and-off ethereal communication?

This could be your last chance to hear Reiner out. One or both of you could die any time in the not-too-distant future. It seemed impossible.

No matter which decision you make, it's going to hurt.

You tremble, not really knowing what to do or what to say. You just wanted to crumble, fall from your damned pride and cry in a heap on the floor. You're oh-so-tired now of all of these hard decisions, and it didn't look like they were going to stop anytime soon.

So, y/n.

What path are you going to take?

Reiner

or

Porco

You have mere days to decide. Chapter IV Part II - 22/04/2023

[missjulielovesbows]

new year's day: satoru x reader

part of my jjk taylor swift inspired stories

not proofread (can you guys see a trend)

probably one thousand words give or take

it was a warm morning, the breathing city below, the clouds swimming playfully in the sky, and the sunlight giving a gentle glow to the living room of your shared apartment. satoru was still sleeping - you had woken earlier - so you decided to curl up on the couch, snug with a book in your hands. as you turn the page, eyes soaking each purposeful word, you hear the most obnoxious laugh - a laugh you could recognise anywhere.

"aw, is this where you've been hiding, my love?" a voice snickers, footsteps following as the morning rays stream into the room. you sigh, a smile playing on your lips.

"well, good morning to you too, sleeping beauty," you hum out, eyes drifting lower to the page, engrossed in the plot.

with a huff, satoru appears behind you, forearms resting on the top of the couch, "don't you dare read that last page," he scolds playfully, a smirk on his face, "you promised you'd help me with my new year's party, anyway" satoru huffs, a teasing grin on his face as his lanky figure crashes on top of you in a mock punishment. 

"'satoru! okay, okay, fine!" you giggle out, trying to shove him off without losing the page you were on.

it was a losing battle, unfortunately.

the page was lost.

"jeez, you weight a tonne, old man" you tease, wheezing under him until his figure finally retreats off you as he puts his hands up in mock surrender and hurt. 

"i'm not that old, woman," he pouts, grabbing your hand once your book had been set down. "now it's time for you to help me, angel. just like you promised" 

~~~

"those sparkly candles are better for the new year's theme, satoru"

"these polaroid films would be perfect for the photo booth, 'toru!"

"oh! and those glitter decorations would be amazing decor, 'ru!"

after running around like headless chickens in the nearest mall till sundown, you and satoru end up in a taxi being driven home - a sudden downpour rendering walking home a poor decision. the weather was almost as temperamental as your boyfriend. 

"i knew you'd much rather be with your handsome party-host boyfriend than at home reading that boring book. right, sweetheart?" satoru purrs, his hand snaking behind your shoulders as his cheeky grin sparkles in the glow of the city. 

and you want to retort but... 

there's the soft lights of the darkening city caress his face and the steady thumping of the raindrops on the taxi window and the way his lips curl into that teasing smirk and the thought hits you...

you love him. 

and it's not like you don't know this already, you do. it's just the realisation that this kind of love isn't black and white, it's golden. it's the kind of love that makes you understand why people lost their minds and fought the wars. it's the kind of love you know you want to cherish forever. 

and with this realisation, your hand moves to hold his - delicate as you intertwine your fingers. and you squeeze his hand three times in the taxi. each beat to represent a word. 

i

love

you

and his eyes. his ocean blue eyes. they understand. 

"it'll be a long road, but i'll be there. with you. for you," he says softly, squeezing your hand back with three precise beats. 

"i'll be there when you're the toast of the town, love. or if you strike out and you're crawling home," you whisper, eyes filled with adoration. 

in the rearview mirror, crinkles can be seen on the taxi driver's face. 

ah, to be purely, deeply in love. 

~~~`~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

soon enough, satoru's new year party had began. the food had been cooked and arranged, the sparkling decorations had been set out, and the polaroid cameras were ready to be used.

and as their friends poured into the apartment, the party rose to life.

suguru had managed to get haibara to help him coax nanami into doing karaoke together. utahime was complaining shoko's ear off about how annoying gojo satoru is. and satoru had somehow managed to drag yaga into this whole mess of a party as they (or more pointedly, satoru) 'talked' - read: satoru doing all the speaking with a few words from yaga who seemed to enjoy the party, as much as he tried to hide it - about anything and everything in between.

and as the minutes ticked closer to the fated hour, you slotted yourself into satoru's arms, admiring how the lights of the apartment gives an ethereal glow to his face.

with a cheer, you two kiss, a heartwarming buzz filling the apartment as everyone celebrates the new year. and the party carries on.

nanami tends to a drunk haibara as suguru - tipsy but not as drunk as haibara - teases the former, bottles of alcohol scattering the floor. shoko cradles utahimes head, a lollipop in her mouth as the girl slept peacefully. yaga - who had managed to hide away from satoru - was smiling, some of his cursed corpses surrounding him as they gorge themselves a paternal look in his eyes at his ex-students.

before the sun begins to approach, nanami excuses himself, assisting his drunk friend as they make their way down the apartment. yaga decides to follow suit, glitter that satoru had scattered around him leaves a sparkly trail in his wake (you'd get satoru to clean the glitter up, it was practically impossible anyway). and utahime - who had been woken up by your boisterous boyfriend - began to attack him, her kicks and punches slow and sluggish.

she had slipped her heels off, running forward to tackle your boyfriend with a drunken yell.

shoko and you share a look of endearment at satoru's nature and utahime's actions.

satoru's laughter fills the apartment, a sound you etch into your mind. you may not need to memorise it, you would be able to recognise that laugh anywhere. so that you can hold it forever

as satoru provokes utahime further, the latter shoving the former to the floor, shoko passes you a lollipop, eyes watching the feisty and drunk girl.

after a while, the two of you decide to separate the bickering for utahime's sake. you were both worried she'd pop a blood vessel with satoru's idiocy.

clutching the heels of her friend, shoko bids farewell as the pair makes their way to the lobby.

all thats left is the heartwarming atmosphere, as you lay on the floor with satoru.

"its time to clean up now, satoru," you sigh, smiling at the memories you know you'll hold dear.

you would spend your midnights with him, but when worst comes to worst, you'll still be around to clean up bottles with him on new years day.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Oh, Hello

Mayans MC Masterlist

Part one of A Gentle Kind of Love.

Contains: Fluff, mutual pining, angst (endless longing and hints at a dark backstory, ) slow burn, flashbacks in italics.

6K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #a gentle kind of love.

"When I saw you, it was quiet for the first time in recent memory."

You put your hand on your face, your side aching from laughter, "no Angel, despite what the TV shows tell you, we can't diagnose children with psychopathy, we have to wait until they're adults."

Angel huffed, "then what do they have?"

Manny waved his hand, "you told me this the other day, it's a conduct disorder."

You smiled, "that's right, you remembered."

Manny smiled, his eyes filled with cheer, "well sweetheart, everything you say is interesting so of course I remember." You felt a wave of embarrassment come over you. Just because you weren't going to give it away doesn't mean you weren't overwhelmed with shyness at the handsome Mayan's praise.

"I'm going to get myself some water, you guys want anything?"

Manny smiled, "a beer please Tesoro."

You walked over to the bar and Angel leaned close to his brother and spoke just loud enough for Manny to hear, "oh y/n, you're so smart, please let me touch your tits."

Manny huffed, "shut up man, just because I listen doesn't mean I want in her pants."

Angel smiled, "you don't just want in her pants, you want to make sweet, sweet love to her because you're all goo goo eyed."

Manny slapped his chest, "shut up, she's coming back." You handed the beer to Manny with a smile, not too long ago, you never would have thought this would be how you'd be spending every weekend.

You had been in Santo Parde for two months when you saw him on the street."Cruz, is that you?" You recognise those tattoos anywhere, Coco turned his head and broke out in a run towards you, leaving his friends behind to watch on as he wrapped you in his arms.

"What are you doing here?"

You smiled, "settling down, I had to trade off the blazing heat for the humidity but I got sick of the rain making my head hurt. How are you going?"

Coco smiled, "better, I'm six months clean."

You hugged him again, "that's wonderful news Coco, I'm so happy for you."

His friends wandered over, "are you going to introduce us to your friend Coco?" You smiled and stuck out your hand, "I'm y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

The tall man smiled and accepted your hand, "I'm Angel, and this is my younger and much less handsome brother EZ."

Coco huffed, "don't even think about it man."

Angel raised his hands, "I wasn't doing anything, how did you two meet?"

Your faces fell, "oversea, I'm a trauma counsellor and went over there to help out, I work mainly with kids."

Coco smiled, "yeah, I think she spent more time giving us therapy than the kids."

You shook your head, "just thanking you for keeping me safe."

He laughed, "until you weren't."

You nodded, "yeah, that wasn't part of the plan."

EZ's brows wrinkled, "wait, you're that y/n?"

You smiled, "you been talking about me Cruz?"

Coco smiled, "just telling them how cool you are."

You shook your head, "it was nice to meet you two, I better be getting back home or my cats are going to kill me."

You did your best to avoid the Clubhouse parties on the weekends, too many loud noises and too many loud people but their sad faces every time you turned them down finally made you cave. It didn't take long for you to warm to everyone but Manny was a different story, the first time you met eyes, it was like you had known him your whole life.

You walked in and looked around, the Clubhouse was nice enough. It smelt like booze and smoke and sex and the music was just loud enough to be annoying. Coco stayed close as he took you around to his brothers, each one smiling softly as you introduced yourself. 

"Is that everyone?"

Coco shook his head, "nah, Manny and Riz are out, they'll be back soon." You sat with him and Angel, talking about what you thought of the town,

"So Coco tells me you're some kind of fancy Dr lady."

You rolled your eyes, "I have a PhD in psychology, not that fancy."

Angel smiled and turned his head, "hey golden boy, you've got some competition." 

Coco huffed, "sorry about him, EZ's the brains of our operation."

You shook your head, "I'm sure you cope just fine." A door opened and Coco stood up and waved the man over. You looked him over, he was tall, with long hair and a soft face.

"That's Riz."

You accepted his extended hand, "it's nice to finally meet you y/n, Coco's said a lot." 

"Where's Manny?"

Riz shrugged, "refuelling, he'll be in soon." Riz went off to deal with something else and you, Coco and Angel settled into an easy conversation, that was until the door opened again. 

Time slowed as the man walked in, he was tall too, maybe a little taller than everyone else and lean, his long neck made to look even longer by the block letters inked on it. He walked over at Coco's raised hand, a charming smile on his face. 

You stood up and he came closer, "I'm Manny." He took your offered hand, his skin was warm and rough, carved from years of manual labour, the rings in his fingers cold against your flesh as he squeezed gently.

"Oh, hello Manny, I'm y/n."

He smiled and said your name like he was tasting it, "hi y/n." His voice was the perfect mix of gravel and soft and you wished you could crawl into his long arms and fall asleep to the sound of it. 

"I know EZ is short for Ezekiel, is Manny short for Emmanuel?"

He smiled, he liked the sound of his name coming out of your mouth, "yes ma'am." 

You had known everyone for three weeks when pulled Bishop and Coco aside early one night before things got busy, "I want to cook dinner for everyone. You've all been so welcoming to me and I want to say thank you."

Coco nodded aggressively, "fuck yeah."

Bishop glanced at him, "are you going to let me have a say, this is my charter."

Coco looked at Bishop like he had three heads, "you have to try her cooking man, she could turn an MRE into a feast. We'll all be there at six thirty."

Bishop smiled with a shake of his head, "thank you, we'll be happy to take you up on your offer."

You smiled, "wonderful, just make sure everyone texts me about their allergies and come hungry."

You had planned the dinner for six thirty but Manny, Angel and Coco showed up at four. When you opened the door, Coco lifted a box filled with cans and bottles, "you know, I bought booze for tonight.."

Coco smiled, "we wanted to help out."

You sighed, "so I'll feed you before dinner or because you want credit?"

Coco walked in and tossed off his shoes, the others following, "both."

You shook your head, "alright, it's going to be a lot of work so I hope you're ready."

You walked them into the kitchen, Manny looked around, a curious look on his face, "where are your kitties?"

You pointed towards the back, "in the sunroom because I'm cooking. I'm feeling pretty unloved here, no 'how was your day y/n, what are you cooking?' you went right to the cats."

Manny shrugged, "your cats are cool."

You huffed, "well, you can see them once we're done here."

You explained what you needed them to do , "why does Manny get to do the icing while we're stuck cutting onions and chillies?"

You rolled your eyes, "because I know he has the self control not to eat it."

Manny smiled, "I won't disappoint you."

Angel and Coco shared a look, "this food better be worth my onion tears."

Coco chuckled, "trust me mano, it is."

They were actually quite helpful, although Angel couldn't cook for shit but he was a fast study, "you sure they'll be enough for us to take some home?"

You giggled, "yes, Coco, for the fourth time, unless everyone eats their weight in food, there will be enough for everyone to take leftovers."

The other arrived right on six thirty, Creeper pushing his way in, "are the cats out?"

You sighed, "Manny and Angel are with them in the sunroom." Riz smiled like he was going to ask you a question, "yes, you can meet them too, I think Lady Midnight will like you."

You had to bang on the door to get them to come out for dinner, "please stop making out with my cats and come and eat."

They left the sunroom with smiles on their faces, "they are very cute." You were right Lady Midnight liked Riz.

"I know, you should see them all curled up in a cuddle puddle. Is everyone ready to eat now?"

"Fuck yeah, it smells great." Bishop had already sat at the long oval table in the middle of the small dining room.

"We helped."

You smiled, "yes Coco, you, Manny and Angel were great helpers." The start of the diner was quiet, the only sound was people asking what they were eating, "good?"

Someone moaned, "mmm ah ha."

Angel swallowed his bite and put another one on his fork, "better than sex."

You laughed, "I don't know whether that was a compliment or you just told on yourself."

There was a burst of laughter and Hank tapped the table in humour, "oh, I like you."

Sadly, there wasn't much left over by the time dessert came, "you said there would be extra."

You shrugged, "sorry EZ, helpers get first dibs. Maybe there'll be dessert to take home, if there's any left."

There wasn't, they all left with full bellies, yawning and talking about doing this again. Manny lingered, helping you clean up, "you didn't need to stay behind, I have a dishwasher for when I have people over."

He smiled, "just because they're happy to be fed and leave doesn't mean I am, I had to thank you for doing so much work."

You smiled, "what a gentleman, or is it so we can pig out on the secret cake you saw me hide in the back of the fridge?"

He smiled, "you got me."

You sighed, "wipe down the table please, I'll go warm us up a slice."

"Are you coming to the party this Friday?" Manny was leaning in your kitchen doorway, helping you make soup for Coco who was hauled up in bed with the flu. You had promised him extras if he helped you take it to him and that had turned into him spending the day assisting you.

"Yes, I don't have anything else better to do."

He smiled, "come on, a beautiful woman like you? I'm sure you could find someone to take you out?"

You smiled, "if you mean homicide then yes but I don't have people lining up at my door unless it's for food or cat cuddles."

A cat scream and soft paws landing on his knee stopped him from disagreeing with you, "little perv."

Manny laughed, "it's not his fault you don't have a beard for him to lick."

You smiled as Manny picked up the cat, "don't listen to her Mr Butts, you have good taste."

You shook your head, the cat rubbing his face on Manny's cheek, "can you put that little attention whore down and come and help me."

Manny smiled, "sorry little buddy, duty calls."

He opened up the cupboard with a smile, "I still can't believe you live in a fairyland cottage."

You shook your head with a smile, "life has to have some whimsy or it's sad and boring."

"Welcome to my home, please remove your shoes and no smoking inside."

Manny and Creep looked around, "gee, this place is nice."

You smiled, "thank you. I got it for a steal because it was in such a shit condition. I had to knock down three rooms but that gave me extra room for my garden.  Everything was finished like a day after I arrived, I'm just grateful people do consults online." 

"How many bedrooms?"

You pointed to the hallway, "two but I use the smaller one as a library, the couch pulls out if anyone needs to stay over."

Manny's hand grazed the hanging plant on the wall, "I saw a sun room when we drove in, that must be nice."

You nodded, "the best, but the cats love it more that I do." 

"MEEEEEEEOOOOOWWW."

"Speaking of, that would be Mr Butterscotch, he has a thing for beards."

Creep smiled, "you have a cat?"

You nodded, "three, they're all in the sunroom now, a lot of people don't like cats so I tend to keep them away when I have people over."

Manny and Creep looked at each other, "let em out, we like cats." 

Manny nodded in agreement, "cats are great."

You walked away to let them out with a shake of your head, "alright then, Mr Butterscotch will lick you, it won't be fun."

Manny waved his hand, "it can't be that bad." 

The rush of little feet had them smiling from ear to ear and they crouched down to greet the tiny creatures, "who's who?"

You pointed to the small black one, "that's Lady Midnight, she's very sweet but kinda judgy. The one rolling over is Sir Fluffernutter, pats only end when he says they do and if you stop before then he will bite you." 

Many laughed as the last cat climbed up his shirt, "I'm guessing this is Mr Butterscotch?"

You nodded, "yep, little perv." Creep wasn't paying attention, rather, he had one hand on Lady Midnight's head and the other scratching Sir Fluffernutter's chest. 

"Are they always this friendly?"

You nodded, "yes, Creep, they are. Now that you've met my cats, what brings you to my house?" 

It was late afternoon, the sun was dropping in the sky, a pleasant wind picking. You had come to the Clubhouse to help set up early that Friday, the day free of work because of a burst pipe in your office building. You were carrying the cups from the sink to the cupboard on the other end of the bar with Gilly's help, Taza sitting at the bar drinking. 

"So what happened?" Gilly seemed genuinely interested.

You sighed, "it's a whole mess. I was in the middle of a session when I heard this bang and Penelope came rushing in with her patient. The ceiling in her room fell in, we're insured and we have a spare room but we've been kicked out till the builder can come tomorrow and see if it's safe." 

Taza put his beer down, "who's Penelope again?"

You smiled, "we met at a conference, her main job is helping with missing person cases but she does individual and group grief counselling three days a week. We decided to start working together when I moved here but we've been friends for years." 

"Do your work with adults?"

You shrugged, you hoped this was Gilly leading into asking for help for his combat trauma, "yes and no, we both work with parents and I sometimes talk to adults about trauma in their childhood but that's alongside their adult therapist. Having said that, I did a lot of adult stuff overseas and my door is always open." 

He swallowed and averted his eyes, "that's really good."

Manny walking in pulled your attention away, you waved to him and he trotted over, his face split by a grin, "you're here early?" 

You nodded "yep, burst pipe, I'm out of the office until they say it's safe."

Manny's face filled with concern, "is everyone ok, what are you and Garcia going to do in the meantime?" 

Gilly and Taza looked at each other, sharing a knowing smile, "we're all ok. One of the families waiting for their appointment is part owner of a building company. He can't help but his partner in Oakland can, he's coming to check it out tomorrow and we'll go from there. We should be alright to use other rooms but if not, there are spaces we can rent." 

Manny smiled softly, "if you need any help cleaning up, I'm happy to volunteer."

He looked at Gilly and Taza, his eyebrows slightly up, Gilly filled in the silence, "yeah, sure, we'll help too."

You smiled, "thank you gentlemen." 

"What's everyone talking about?" You rolled your eyes at Angel's voice.

"Hello Angel."

He smiled, "you're here early?"

You nodded, "yes, a pipe burst at the office so I thought I'd come by and help everyone set up."

Angel sucked in his tongue, "well, we're all happy to have you here, hanging around." His eyes were stuck on Manny. 

"MANNY, YOU LEFT YOUR WRENCH OUT AGAIN."

Manny rolled his eyes, "it's not my wrench, I better go sort this out." he sighed and left, leaving you with Angel, Gilly and Taza.

"What was that?" You shrugged at Angel's question.

"What was what?" 

Angel smirked, "you got this dreamy look on your face." He clasped his hands in front of him and batted his eyes, "oh Manny you're so handsome."

You picked up the towel and hit his chest with it, "shut up dude."

Gilly smiled, "you do look at him, at lot."

Your eyes wrinkled in confusion and barely there indignity, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Sure you do, you've been looking at him like that since the day you saw him in the ring beating the shit out of that Yuma guy who was up Chanche's ass."

You hadn't been in town long, Coco had convinced you to visit the Clubhouse on the Sunday after your first party and see the place in the light of day. "It's much nicer without all the people here."

Coco smiled, "yeah, it's nice. Lettie is excited to see you again and Hope's here."

You smiled back, "I can't wait, lead the way." 

Coco walked you to where Lettie was standing, next to her was a woman you imagined was Hope. She offered you a smile and a handshake, "you must be y/n, Coco and Lettie are so happy that you decided to settle down here."

You and Hope got along like a house on fire, ganging up on Coco with Lettie as he stood there in embarrassment. A commotion pulled everyone's attention, Bishop was standing between Manny and the Yuma Mayan who had come to bring the last of Manny's stuff from the garage. You caught the tail end of the conversation, Bishop telling them the handle it in the ring, then shirts were coming off and fists were being taped. 

Angel wandered over and invited everyone to watch, "why do I want to watch Manny hit a stranger?"

Angel smiled, "long story, he deserves it." The small group walked over to the octagon, Manny was looking at the man with what could only be called hatred. But you were looking at him, his back was covered in the Mayan patch, his muscles firm under his skin. 

The fight was over fast, Manny was quick, the other member no match for his long limbs and fast hands. Angel cleared his throat next to you, "you enjoying yourself?"

You stuttered, "umm, he's very good at that."

Angel smirked, "sure, you know we all noticed that you spent most of the other night with him and he's usually face deep in someone by nine." 

You rubbed your face, "I'm new and I'm Coco's friend, he was probably just being nice." 

Angel gave you a strange look, "if you say so." 

You were in the storeroom packing the extra beer away when Manny walked in, "you need a hand?"

You smiled, "sure, how have you been?"

He smiled back and started packing the shelves, "good, what about you?"

You broke down the box and threw it towards the door, "I've been great. You didn't need to help me."

Manny huffed, "well I wanted to, and look, we're already done."

You walk out of the storeroom only to be greeted by a smiling Coco, "what man?"

He chuckled, "nothing, I've just thought packing shelves was for prospects."

"Not when it's y/n doing it."

You jumped, Angel had come from nowhere, "dude, where did you come from?"

He shook his head, "I saw you two coming out of the backroom and I figured you had some fun, it's a shame you were only doing bitch work."

You shook your head, "shut up, both of you. Manny was just being helpful."

Coco raised his eyebrow, "sure."

Manny's eyes kept glancing toward the door, "she's late."

Angel shrugged, "she probably had to stay back with one of her patients. Chill man, it's not like she's fucking some dude or something." Angel was right, you were only an hour late but Manny didn't wait for you, when you walked in, he had a woman in his lap and a smile on his face.

He might have missed how your shoulders fell when you saw it, but no one else did. "Hey y/n, how was work?"

You smiled softly, "good, long but it was good. What about you?"

Bishop smiled, "the same old, fixing bikes and dealing with these shitheads." You missed the way his eyes moved to Manny when he said that, "you seem sad?"

You shook your head, "nah, it's just been a long day."

You cast your eyes away as Manny looped his arm around the woman's back and took her into the dorms, an idea had Bishop smiling, "have you met our new prospect?"

You shook your head, "it's news to me." He took you over to the man in the prospect kutte, he had been a hang around for a while so you did know him.

"Hello Raul, the kutte suits you."

He smiled, "thanks y/n, can I buy you a drink?" You thought for a moment, pining after Manny wasn't doing you any good and while Raul was a poor substitute, he do to quell your growing need for human contact.

"I'll take a cream soda if you have them."

He smiled, "I think we do, Hank likes them."

He handed the old fashioned bottle to you with a charming smile, "thank you Raul."

You lost track of time talking to Raul, it was late at night when you were heading home, just as you were saying goodbye with a hug, Manny walked out and saw it, from his angle, it looked a lot warmer than it was. Manny sat down next to Angel who sighed, "looks like you missed your chance Mano." Manny shrugged, pining over you wasn't doing him any good anyway.

The distance between to two of you only grew with time, he stopped waiting for you on party night and he stopped saving you a seat at more formal get togethers, you would walk into the Clubhouse and find him with another woman, seemly filled with joy that she got to bag the talk of the town that night. So you would find the prospect and spend your night with him, it was easier than answering everyone's questions about why you looked so sad or why you weren't talking like you used to.

Tonight's party was much louder than normal, you did your best to cope with the yelling and the loud music but it was getting to you. Raul seemed to notice your discomfort, "you wanna head to the dorm? It's kinda loud here and I can't hear myself think."

You smiled, "alright." You knew what you were getting into but judging by the noises coming out of Manny's room, he was busy making someone's night.

EZ and Coco watched you go, "so that's it I guess."

Coco shook his head, "nah, he's not her type. I doubt they're going to do more than talk."

EZ cocked his head towards the door, "it's getting really loud, I got to go check on Sally."

Coco nodded, "I'll come with."

"You're not serious?"

Raul nodded, "I'm so serious, as serious as serious can be."

You laughed, "wow being a prospect kinda sucks."

He smiled, "it's not so bad with you here, they're nice to me when you're around."

You huffed, "I've mastered the art of the mum lecture." He chuckled then burst into full blown laughter when the sound of Bishop singing to Elvis floated through the walls.

As the laughter faded, the air changed and you were leaning in to kiss him like your head had a mine of its own. His lips were rough but his face was smooth when your hand came up to stroke his cheek. You shoved the thoughts of Manny down into the pit of your soul and focused on his rough hand on your forearm.

You paused, putting a hand on his chest, "we should talk about some stuff before this goes any further, make sure we're on the same page."

He huffed, "yeah, talk about how you're gonna suck my dick."

You sighed and stood up, "and we're done here. It was nice spending time with you Raul but I don't think we're compatible."

His eyes went wide and he looked at the door, "if you go out there, they'll never let me live it down."

You nodded, "I know, I'm not interested in answering questions anyway so I'm gonna head out the window, my car's not far."

You climbed out of the window with little trouble, walking to your car as fast as you could. You didn't expect to hear EZ shout as you walked by his trailer, "hey y/n, I didn't see you come out the front."

You smiled, "umm, yeah. Raul isn't my type. I jumped out the window to avoid anything like this happening."

Coco got stiff, "did he.."

You cut him, "no, no. We're just better of as drinking buddies." They nodded, "I'm going to head home, my cats are missing me."

They smiled at each other and with one last pat on Sally's head, they went inside. It didn't take long for someone to pick up on the mood, Hank walking over, "what's got you two all weird?"

EZ smiled, "where's y/n?"

Hank rubbed his face, "doing the same thing Manny is, making a mistake."

Coco shook his head, "nope, she went out the window ten minutes ago."

Hank smiled, "no?"

Angel walked over, seemingly picking up on whatever was going on, "what is everyone so secretive out?"

Hank smiled, "our prospect swung and missed at the good doctor."

Angel smiled, "how do you know, she doesn't seem like the type to kiss and tell."

EZ glanced at the dorm door, "we caught her going out the window."

Angel pressed his lips together, "oh wow, that's rough. Maybe Manny…"

"What are you fucks gossiping about?"

Bishop could tell that they were planning something, "nothing pres."

He didn't buy it, "bullshit, talk."

Hank's face broke into a grin, "looks like love is still in the air between Manny and y/n."

Bishop shook his head, "grow up, you all need hobbies."

"You should have been there, she was moaning and whimpering like she hadn't been fucked in years." They all sat around and listened to Raul brag, unbeknownst to him, Manny was the only one who was in the dark about what really happened.

Angel shook his head, unimpressed that the soon to be ex prospect was lying about you "dude, we know she's hot and all but we don't want to hear about this, she's our friend."

Raul chuckled, "alright, more memories for me."

The smirk on his face had Coco ready to blow, "let's call y/n, she's on her lunch break and see if she's ok with us hearing about this."

The prospect waved his hands, "you sure you wanna do that? I don't know if the lady…."

Manny cut him off, "do it Coco, let's hear it for her." Bishop rolled his eyes, they were like little boys.

"Great, everyone be quiet, she'll only talk on speaker if she thinks it's just me and her."

He called you and you picked up on the second ring, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your call?"

Coco smiled, "I wanted to talk about the other night."

You paused, "am I on speaker?" No one made a sound.

"I'm alone, I'm in the middle of something. You wanna tell me what had you ducking out bedroom through the window?"

"Coco, we've been over this. I don't want to humiliate the poor boy."

It was hard to miss Manny's smile, "come on, it will be like old times, give me the dirt."

You sighed, "you're not going to leave this be until I talk and I want to know why."

Coco glared at Raul, "he's bragging that you two fucked, he's been going into detail."

"What?" The upset was clear in your voice and if looks to kill, Manny would have killed him five times over.

"Graphic detail."

You huffed, "I should have walked out the front and put up with the questions. The guy's an asshat Coco, I thought he was being nice to me just to be nice but turns out all he wanted was in my pants. The moment shit got heated, I tried to put on the brakes so we could talk like adults and the dude basically demanded a blow job. I can't tell you to not vote him in but if you do, I think you'll have a lot of unsatisfied women walking around."

"Wow, why didn't you say anything?" Coco knew the answer, he was trying to get you to put your foot in your mouth so this dance between you and Manny would end.

"Why do you think? I tried Coco, I really did but I don't think I'm cut out for the party lifestyle. I miss my cats and my fluffy slippers. Dude, I'm not a teenager anymore, I like my bed and not having to see… You know what. I've already said too much, please don't let this get back to anyone."

"Alright then, thanks for clearing that up."

You sighed, "no worries." You sounded sad.

"You coming this Friday?"

Manny felt his heart race, "nah, I got a tub of ice cream and a horror movie with my name on it."

Manny knew that we wouldn't be back, there was something about the way you spoke that told you he lost his chance, "well that sucks, I guess I'll have to come to your place to hang then?"

"That would be for the best, pass my love onto the guys."

They didn't see you that Friday or Saturday, nor the next week. Manny had barely said a word since that day on the phone, too deep in thought to do much. It took till church for it to come to a head, "I don't even want him prospecting anymore, he's got months left and no one can stand him."

Bishop huffed, "this isn't about him, this is about you and y/n. You've barely said a word since that phone call."

Manny scoffed, "he's a fucking disrespectful liar."

Hank sighed, "we ain't taking his patch, and you need to talk to her. We miss her and she's not going to come back until you clear the air."

Manny shook his head, "I don't see what there is to talk about, she's the one that vanished."

Coco huffed, "man, she's shy. She watched you crawl into bed with everything with a face while she sat at that bar waiting for you to notice that she came here every week for you, You really think she's coming back here after that kind of humiliation?"

Manny scoffed "bullshit man, she's being nice to me. What happened with the prospect has nothing to do with it." There was back and forth after that, a lot, enough that the volume in the room grew.

"That fucking enough!" Bishop wasn't impressed, "your petty whining isn't going to help. You think she wants you at each other's throats over her." He pointed at Coco, "go over there and see what's going on in her head, and you." Manny clenched his jaw, "be a man and handle your shit."

"Hey Coco."

He smiled and lifted the bag in his hand, "I brought your favourite."

You invited him in as he took his shoes off, "are you coming here to hang out with me, or my cats?"

Coco chuckled, "both, Lady Midnight is my best friend."

You gasped in fake offence, "what about Sir Fluffernutter, you'll break his little heart if he hears that."

"Lady Midnight doesn't bite me if I stop petting her."

You chuckled, "he's just letting you know how much he loves you."

Coco put the food down and went to get the bowls, "where have you been? We miss you."

You shrugged, "busy. I told you I'm not the partying kind."

"Meow, meooooooooooow." Coco smiled and picked up Mr Butts, "little perv."

Coco shook his head and picked the cat up, "he's sweet."

You laughed, "he's a little perv." Mr Butts started licking Coco's face while you portioned off the food.

"Why are you really here?"

"Manny."

You threw your hands up in the air, "what about him, good Lord Coco, please leave well enough alone."

He shook his head, "it ain't well enough, you two have to stop dancing around each other."

You put your hands on your hips, "Coco no, be logical for one fucking second and think about it. The man knows nothing about me, what do you think he's going to do when he gets the gory details?"

"Think you're a badass."

You put the bowls on a tray and carried them toward the table, "no he won't. He will run and hide like the rest of them, how the fuck do you even expect me to start that conversation. I'm not looking for sympathy Coco."

Coco sighed, "you want me to tell him?"

You stomped back to the kitchen to get napkins, "no fucking way. I haven't seen you in two weeks, please just drop it so we can have the food."

Coco put the cat down and sat next to you, "he's going to ask questions eventually."

You rubbed your face, "then I'll deal with it, or I'll avoid him until he loses interest."

"Alright then." You tucked into the food, hopeful that the subject was dropped.

"Are you coming back to the Clubhouse?"

You shook your head, "no, I'm not. The heat's fucking with my head anyway, I have had a migraine four days this week. Being in a place that stinks like booze, smoke and sex isn't going to help."

"The guys miss you. Poor EZ walks around like a lost puppy looking for someone to talk to about smart people shit."

You smiled softly, "well, he has plenty of smart people around him if he'd just try. You all know where I live, if they want to see me that bad, they can come here."

Coco nodded, "I guess you're right. Lettie is really interested in that course you told her about.

You smiled, "is that because of your mum or you and Hope?"

Coco tilted his head, "nah, me and Hope, I don't think she thinks about my mom any more than I do. Hope's been good for her."

"Lettie is a good kid, I don't know why you were worried about them getting along. She wants you to be happy and it's pretty apparent that Hope loves you."

He smiled, "I love her too, things are really good." His eyebrows went up, "which reminds me…"

"Coco, no. Just let me bask in your happiness. And as for Lettie, I can get her a job in my office. She'll have to start doing intake interview but if she's a good fit, Garcia can get her into group work while she studies."

Coco's face broke out into a grin, "I think she'd love that. Thank you y/n."

You were cornered at the butcher shop by Angel, "when are you coming back?"

You sighed, "not you too. I'm not, like I told Coco, you know where I live. If you want to spend time with me, then you can do it at my place."

Felipe raised his eyebrows, "son, I thought you knew better then to meddle in lady's affairs."

"See Angel, listen to your father."

Angel stopped you just as you were walking out the door, "at least come to the barbecue this weekend. Marcus will be there, Coco told everyone so much about you and he wants to meet you."

You rolled your eyes and went to respond but Angel stopped you, "Canche will be there, we all hate him after what happened in the desert, we need you for moral support."

You exhaled, "fine, but it's your fault if shit gets weird."

You must have stared at the dress for an hour before you put it on, you knew going to this thing was a mistake but Angel wasn't going to let you say no. After fixing your hair quickly, you picked up your bag and walked out the door, kissing Lady Midnight between her tall ears before you left, "don't look at me like that, I know I'm making a mistake."

Part 2

The summary line was taken for the Julien Baker poem "First Love Poem in Recent Memory"

Chapter releases are up to you.

Hearts and blank reblogs with no tags will be worth one point each.

Comments and reblogs with comments/tags will be worth two points each.

This means a maximum of 5 points per person.

Chapter two will be released after 20 points.

[alfgifu]

Fic analysis 51. Going out with a bang

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56189497/chapters/142741402

Word count: 10,006

Chapters: 3

First posted: 26th May 2024

Last chapter up: 28th May 2024

Summary: 

Fitzroy has been growing increasingly jittery as the Red Company approaches Solaara for the Jubilee. It's not a surprise when he asks Cliopher to run away with him for one last night of freedom.

Almost everything that follows is.

(All fics in this series build out from events in Embers - and therefore spoil it - but I've tried to keep them viable as stand-alones too.)

How and why this came about

This was the second fic I ever started working on in this fandom. The google doc dates from January 2023. It had been sitting around unfinished for over a year when I once more ran out of things to commute-fic.

That initial version included most of the first half of the first chapter, up until the point where Fitzroy gets stuck in the mud. I had in mind already that it would follow up on what eventually happened to Lord Leofric, who had amused me so much as a character that I had broken from Cliopher’s pov to write a chapter of Embers from his perspective.

At this time I was also thinking about fluff and soft fics. I had attempted to write a pure fluff fic and gone immediately off the rails and ended up with All fear gives way, a fic which is many things but is certainly not fluff. I had wanted to write something gentler for In every heart there is a room, but while gentle that whole story draws the characters through a painful and grounded conversation.

In Going out with a bang I once again set myself the challenge of trying to generate pure fluff from beginning to end. I didn’t entirely succeed - shenanigans broke out, so it feels more funny than fluffy to be honest - but I came closer than I had anywhere else. At least it felt like I could honestly apply the ‘Fluff and humor’ tag.

What worked and what didn’t

There’s a huge timeskip between the other Embers fics, all of which take place around the Petty Treasons era, and this one which takes place post-At the Feet of the Sun. I’ve done my best to keep these fics canon-compliant or at least (since some parts were joshed by Game of Courts) fully compliant with canon vibes. Given that challenge I think the tone of the fic is about right - it will no doubt not hold up in terms of details to canon events around the Jubilee of his Radiancy’s reign, whenever a book containing more on that is published, but it will hopefully still feel plausible.

I was going for a Kip and Fitzroy who are entirely comfortable with themselves and one another, without really exploring in any detail how they reached there from the still-somewhat-undiscussed relationship they have by the end of At the Feet of the Sun. Setting the story just before the Jubilee and having them sneak off for some alone time together gave me background tension without having to have anybody cursed/kidnapped - just enough to provide a good reason why they might both be extra solicitous to one another.

I hadn’t thought this far ahead when I first started the fic, but in practise having Lord Leofric there gave the characters a reason to reflect back on their past and their relationship and recognise their importance to one another. Another victory for fluff!

The last chapter is shorter than the other two. I had grown more comfortable with varying chapter length by this stage - I might have expected it to be longer, but once it was done it was done and I felt like adding anything further would soften the impact.

It is of course annoying that the whole fic is 10,006 words. Part of me would like to nip into it and find 6 words to remove. But that part of me is being silly.

What I learned from writing it

It turns out that I can write fluff, even if it doesn’t come naturally to me. I have to think and plan for it fairly hard, because I always want to add plot! And tension! And those things tend to slide away from fluff and towards drama, that is, bad things happening, if I stop focusing on them. Hurt/Comfort then mostly ensues, or pure crimes if I’m stressed enough.

I also found that I wanted to wrap up the Embers series here. This felt like a good coda to the earlier stories, leaving the characters in a happy place. It also let me show how far Cliopher had outgrown Lord Leofric in every possible way, which was extremely satisfying.

There’s always a chance that an idea strikes and I slip something else in, but honestly I’m not sure what that would be. The stories that grabbed me have all been told. I might have told them differently, and better, if I wrote any of them for the first time now - but then again I might not have attempted this series in the first place if at any point I had had any idea that that’s what I was doing. It was satisfying to mark the whole series as complete.

(And yes, this means that I think there’s at least one untold story idea for each of the series that I haven’t marked as complete - no idea if I’ll get round to any of them, but as long as there’s something dangling it doesn’t feel right to tick the ‘finished’ button.

[hanakogames]

the 'romance' progresses

“I’ll be nicer to you than you were to me,” she told Jerry. “You look very celostrous, Jeremiah.” “Celostrous” was a pet word of Jerry��s own coining. “Your dress matches your eyes and the silver beading on it looks like fairy mist. It’s a frock of frocks.” Marjorie continued her admiring survey of Jerry and her becoming finery. As she had remarked the gentian blue of the crepe exactly matched her chum’s eyes. Again Hal’s handsome, resolute features sprang into memory. This time memory played her an unkind trick. She saw Hal’s eyes as they had appeared in that unforgettable, unguarded moment as he had paused before the portrait of herself at Castle Dean on Christmas Day. She had then come into a very disturbing realization of how much pain she was causing him through her lack of love for him. She had tried to forget, knowing that she could offer no remedy. Work had largely driven away that disturbing memory since her return to Hamilton. Those two blue, despairing eyes returned to haunt her only upon receipt of a letter from their possessor. There had been only two letters. Marjorie had not answered either very promptly. She sometimes went so far as to feel that she might be better pleased not to hear from Hal.

can't you feel the love... for her best friend Jerry who she's been inseparable from for years on end, who makes up little songs to sing in her honor, and both of whom praise each other's looks, BUT NO we have to marry her brother.

Eventually.

He still isn't showing up yet, instead we're back to the usual hijinks with all the other girls, good and bad, and no men anywhere. The naughty girl is plotting to sneak onto campus during a masquerade and risk being caught when the order to unmask comes.

And then there's shock and scandal about which girl danced with which. Halfway through this book and no sign of any interaction with the man of her destiny.

Marjorie decides not to go home for Easter break. Jerry decides to also skip the break to stay with her friend. Will her brother secretly show up?

Thought of Hal next reminded her that she would not see Hal at Easter. That would be best for them both. Still she visualized Hal’s disappointment, not only at not seeing her—he would miss Jerry’s comradely companionship. It would be of no use to tell Jerry she ought to go to Sanford for Easter on Hal’s account. Jerry would hoot at the idea. Marjorie decided that she would write Hal a particularly cordial Easter letter to try to make up for her absence. She brought her mind summarily back to the subject of Brooke Hamilton. What was it Miss Susanna had once said of him concerning love? And when was it she had said it? An instant, and Marjorie recalled the occasion. It was the only time the mistress of the Arms had ever mentioned Brooke Hamilton as having loved. She had said on the occasion of Marjorie’s introduction to the portrait of her kinsman in the study that Brooke Hamilton had believed in the romance of deeds; not the romance of love. She had also said that he had “found after all that love was love. That the romance of men and women—” Miss Susanna had stopped at this juncture and had never again renewed the subject. Marjorie grew inwardly vexed with herself for having permitted her thoughts to run toward love. Because, unfortunately, Hal had fallen in love with her, the thought of Hal must ever bring reminder of the unwelcome fact. 

still nothing. this is really quite weird.

ah, here we go. Marjorie discovers the concept of love by reading the journals of the deceased Hamilton describing his admiration for a girl named Angela (in terms that I must say are certainly no more glowing than the ones Marjorie uses for other girls...) Yet as she reads through his life Marjorie becomes inexplicably annoyed with the author for failing to recognise Angela's love for him. Then Angela nearly dies and he decides he loves her after all and rushes home to marry her and Marjorie cheers.... then Angela dies anyway a few months later.

“I, Brooke Hamilton, a strong man, remain here. If only I had earlier understood love. I might have, had I not been so closely wrapped in my own dreams of achievement. What even greater things I might have accomplished with her by my side. Great love is the impetus to noble achievement. I know it now. Dear Angela! I bruised her tender heart with my selfish indifference to her love for me. God in mercy willed that I should not break it. Out of long years, four months! Forgive me, sweet. I shall never write in this book again.” Marjorie put her curly head down on the table and cried. She had lived and suffered that balmy spring morning with Brooke Hamilton. She had a sad impression that she had forever passed out of the comfortable state of disinterest with which she had formerly looked upon love. Nothing would ever be the same again.

so I guess now she decides it's selfish to not get married and she pretty much has to?

Then the thought which had been pounding at the walls of her brain for admittance entered her consciousness. Suppose that, some day, too late, she were to discover she really loved Hal? She had the same friendly regard for Hal which Brooke Hamilton had entertained for Angela. Hal loved her truly. Angela had truly loved Brooke Hamilton. The mere idea of such a far-fetched catastrophe filled the sober-faced, lately tearful lieutenant with panic. 

and still not a flicker of actual attraction to him.

Back to girlish escapades, the naughty girl apologises for all the mischief she's caused, spring arrives.

She understood dimly that her mood of wistful sadness was born of more than her ardent love of Spring. She was still gripped by the supreme tragedy of Brooke Hamilton’s love story. She almost wished she had not read it. She was sure that she could never bear to read it over again. In the next breath she made sturdy resolve that she would. She would not allow herself to be affected to such an extent even by a story as sad as was Brooke Hamilton’s. Then, without invitation, Hal invaded her thoughts. She was no nearer being in love with him than she had ever been, she reflected with an almost naughty satisfaction. Nevertheless, the moment she began to think about love, he appeared, a blue-eyed image of her mind, always regarding her in the same sorrowful way, in which she had caught him viewing the portrait of the “Violet Girl.” Marjorie had no suspicion that she had changed a great deal in mind since the evening at Severn Beach when she and Hal had walked together with their friends along the moonlit sands and Constance had sung “Across the Years.” She had listened to the sadly beautiful song, which had breathed of blighted hopes and love’s misunderstandings without either sentimentality or sentiment of mind. Hal had characterized her faithfully when he had told her that she had not yet grown up. Neither he nor she knew that the growing-up miracle had begun when she had laid her childishly curly head on the study table and cried out her heart over Brooke Hamilton’s tragic love affair.

bleh

[reiding-writing]

Spencer making cold!Reader flustered? And morgan teasing

CUP OF COFFEE [ONESHOT]

/kʌp əv ˈkɒfi/

a local officer on a case you’re working on really wants to impress you, spencer reid does it without even trying.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, morgan being morgan, reader trying to be civil but ultimately failing

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff || 2.9k || series masterlist!!

a/n: reader doesn’t actually get all that flustered but i feel like it’s more accurate this way rather than having her go into a full on fluster considering her personality-

main masterlist!!

It was always fifty-fifty when working with local police departments on a case. They either wanted absolutely nothing to do with the FBI or they would follow you and the team around like a bunch of children.

This one was the latter, and it was arguably the worse of the two.

It felt like every time you rounded a corner you had a police officer just waiting to divert all of your attention away from the case so they could ask you questions about your job, and it was starting to get really frustrating.

“Have you ever worked a case like this before?”

“Not specifically,”

“How do you know how to write a psychological profile for a type of crime you haven’t encountered before?”

“I‘ve got a PhD in Psychology-“

“What exactly is a psychological profile?”

You were starting to get really annoyed now.

You know there was no ill intent behind his questions, he looked no older than his early twenties, fresh on the scene and to the types of things the criminal world really had to offer.

He genuinely wanted to learn, but when you were trying to catch a serial killer before they had the chance to kill anybody else, you didn’t exactly have time to entertain all of his questions whilst also focusing on the profile you were trying to curate at the same time.

“You can ask me your questions after this guy is behind bars,” That was probably as nice as your request was going to get.

“Right- Sorry- I’ll stop talking now,” He pressed his lips into a tight line with a small nod as he took your words to heart.

The boy reminded you of Spencer in some ways. He was tall and disproportionately lanky, he seemed to have a never ending stream of curiosity, he dressed decently similarly, and he even made the same expressions you’ve come to recognise as a staple of Spencer’s personality.

One thing that was very different between the two though, was that Spencer knew how to take a hint.

He would’ve left you alone the second those words came out of your mouth, but instead you had now gained yourself an observer as you worked, one that was cemented by the scraping of metal chair legs on the carpet and a messenger bag hitting the floor.

You fight the urge to audibly groan at his persistent presence, closing your eyes with the silent prayer that something would call his attention out of the room so that he would leave you to work in peace.

Then there was a knock on the door.

Looks like God was on your side today.

“Come in,” You call out towards the door with an internal sigh of relief, wringing the whiteboard pen in your hands as you turn towards the door you’d specifically left closed so people like officer curious sat at the round table wouldn’t bother you.

Your relief was short lived when Morgan walked through the door, and you don’t even try to hide the groan that leaves your mouth at the look on his face as he enters. “What now?”

“Now now, that’s now way to be a good role model to your youngers now is it?” The smug look on Morgan’s face only widens as he spots the officer at the table. “I’m looking for pretty boy, can’t find him anywhere,”

You shrug as a response. “Unlike the rest of you, he knows when to leave me alone, so I haven’t seen him,”

If that wasn’t the most direct indirect way for you to say you didn’t want the officer’s presence whilst you worked you didn’t know what was.

Morgan raises an eyebrow, his smirk unwavering. “Well, we've got a lead on the case. Thought you might want to be in the loop.” He glances at the officer, then back at you.

You give him a short hum and discard the whiteboard pen on the table, having to physically raise your hand to stop the officer from following the two of you out of the room. “We need to speak privately for this, I’m sure you understand,”

“Right- Right yeah sorry- I’ll just uh- wait here then…”

You give him a short nod with your lips pressed taut into a line as you push Morgan out of the small meeting room and into the hallway, following behind him and clicking the door shut behind you.

“Got yourself a fan have you?” Morgan chuckles slightly as he watches the officer take a seat back at the table through the room’s window, his eyes on you as he tries to silently soak in every detail of the conversation through the glass.

“More like a parasite, he hasn’t left me alone for more than five minutes all day.” You groan exasperatedly as the two of you walk to a private area to have your conversation.

“Can you blame the kid? He’s probably never seen an FBI Agent in person before, he’s just excited,”

“Annoying is what he is,”

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

When you return to the put-aside meeting room reserved for your profile making, there are two cups of coffee on the table, and of course, the officer is still sitting there.

His head turns up to the door as you open it, and he straightens his back in the chair. “Welcome back- I uh- I made you some coffee, I wasn’t sure how you liked it so I asked one of your team members- Two sugars right?“

He pushes the mug carefully in your direction so the drink doesn’t spill, and you walk right past it back towards the whiteboard.

“Thank you, but I don’t drink coffee in mugs used by other people, nor do I drink coffee made by an unhygienic office coffee machine,” You try your best to be civil as you shut him down.

“Ouch-” Morgan leans against the door frame with his arms crossed, shaking his head in exaggerated disapproval at your response. “Don’t be so harsh-”

You roll your eyes at Morgan’s input, turning your gaze to the now slightly embarrassed officer. “I appreciate your effort,”

“I should’ve asked you personally, I’m sorry-”

“Don’t apologise you didn’t do anything wrong, it’s fine,” You give him a small tilt of your head to hammer the fact that everything was fine home so that he didn’t completely crumple up into himself and leave you to deal with it.

“Right, sorry- I mean-” The officer sighs as he gives up talking, taking the two mugs in his hands as he stands from the table. “I’ll take these out,”

Morgan follows the boy with his eyes as he walks past to leave the room, and you slump your shoulders the second he’s out of sight.

“For God’s sake-”

“You’ve really got yourself a little shadow,” Morgan continues to revel in your misery as he steps further into the room, letting the door close behind him.

“I am two minutes away from ripping him a new asshole if he doesn’t take the hint and leave me the fuck alone,” You groan exasperatedly, dragging your palm down your face as you take a seat on the edge of the table. “I’ve barely gotten anything done because he keeps peering over my shoulder like a goddamn five year old with separation anxiety,”

You weren’t wrong in the first half of your assessment, most of the whiteboard you’d been using to write down your notes was empty despite you working on the profile for multiple hours at this point, and judging by the attitude of the poor officer you were slandering the second half of your assessment wasn’t too far off either. “You never get that frustrated with Reid,”

“How is that at all relevant to anything I’ve just said?”

“Come on, you’ve gotta be able to see the similarities here, he’s practically a carbon copy of what Reid was like when he first joined the team,” Morgan gives a short laugh as he gestures in the direction that the officer had just left in.

“Reid was just as annoying back then,”

“He’s barely changed at all-” Morgan rolls his eyes at your half-assed way of explaining why Spencer was an exception to your frustration.

“He’s changed a lot actually,” You shake your head with an impatient sigh as you lean over to grab your whiteboard pen, using it to keep your hands busy.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” He mirrors the way you shake your head with his own. “That boy is your kryptonite and you know it,”

“Get your ass out of this room before I cover your face in whiteboard marker penises,” You don’t refute Morgan’s claim and he knows it, standing up with a smirk and his hands raised comically in surrender as he retreats to the door.

“Yes ma’am,” He turns for the door handle with a laugh, but the door swings open before he can, and you mentally prepare yourself for that goddamn police officer to walk back into the room and continue hovering over you like a mosquito.

You don’t have to.

“Well speak of the devil,” Morgan tilts his head knowingly at you as Spencer bypasses him to enter with a cardboard holder of take out ocffee cups in hand, eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion at why you and Morgan would be having a conversation about him without him being present.

Morgan nudges Spencer with his elbow, eyes locked on you as he starts to spill. “Little miss Ice Queen and I were just talking about-”

“There’s a possible lead in the case.” You interrupt him before he can divulge any details of your conversation. “One you would benefit from knowing about. Morgan was looking for you,”

“Oh-” Spencer gives a short nod in your direction, leaving the cups on the table to ball his hands together and then flex his fingers like a mini hand workout. “I was in the coffee shop down the block sorry,” He takes the two cups from the holder, one in each hand, and holds the one in his left out towards you.

You take the cup from him with your lips pressed into a small line, as much of a thanks as you’re going to give and as much of a thanks as he was expecting in the first place.

“They were established back in 1902 and continue to make their coffee using traditional methods rather than using a machine like most coffee shops do in the present day.” He takes a sip from his own cardboard cup after his little bit of exposition of the shop’s history and you mirror him in doing the same.

Absolutely perfect.

As to be expected from someone when the person who ordered it had an eidetic memory. And maybe a little bit better because that person was Spencer Reid. Maybe.

“I-” You’re not exactly sure what to say. Obviously a thanks would be worth voicing, but he had gone out of his way to buy you a cup of coffee, even if him remembering your order was like reciting the alphabet in his head.

“Thank you, it’s nice,” You give him a small nod through your mostly deadpanned expression as you take a second sip through the plastic lid of the cup, trying in vain to seem nonchalant about the unannounced gift that he’d brought back for you.

Morgan noticed immediately. Of course he did, because when was Morgan ever minding his own goddamn business?

“No problem,” Spencer’s face erupts in that bright smile of his, and his words get half caught in his throat as he tries to speak whilst in the middle of swallowing. “Did you know that coffee is actually a fruit despite coffee beans being called, well, beans? The coffee beans that we use to make drinkable coffee are actually the pit of coffee cherries, that grow on bushes in low-altitude tropical regions,”

You give him a small hum and a nod as an acknowledgement of you taking in the information, and Morgan laughs at the way your eyes flicker away from Spencer’s gaze rather than holding it firm like you usually would. “No coffee for me pretty boy?”

“You had a cup of coffee in your hand when I left,”

“So what? I’m stuck with the shitty police station coffee and little miss ‘I hate everyone’ gets your old fashioned fancy coffee?” Morgan’s accusation holds no malice in it whatsoever, and if his tone wasn’t enough to display that, the goddamned smirk on his face definitely was.

“I do not hate everyone, just you,” You shoot your retort at him with a roll of your eyes and a scoff.

“You wound me,” Morgan clasps his hand dramatically over his chest, pretending to stumble backwards out of pain. He knew you didn’t hate him really, no matter how much you claimed to.

“Caffeine helps increase brain functioning, which will help when curating a profile,” Spencer half points to the still mostly empty board behind you and you almost groan at the reminder of just how little progress you’ve made. “And she doesn’t like the coffee machines, so a proper cup of coffee is the next easiest option,”

You almost forget to breathe as Spencer explains his reasoning behind the coffee run. He’d remembered that tiny detail. Obviously he had, he had an eidetic memory. But he’d actually thought about it and made a conscious decision to find you a caffeine fix elsewhere in the wake of that knowledge.

“Everyone should preferably be drinking properly made coffee, but with the prices I’m not surprised people choose the cheaper option, even if they’re not getting as much caffeine per drink,” Spencer shrugs as he continues his explanation, finishing it off with another sip from his cup.

Your eyes turn up at the mention of the price. You hadn’t considered the fact that him buying you coffee actually included him buying the coffee.

“How much was it?” You glance between him and the cup in your hand as if trying to figure it out yourself based solely on the black tree printed on the cardboard, eyebrows furrowed at the idea of him spending a lot of money on two cups of coffee of all things.

“Uh,” He deliberates on whether to actually tell you, but he knows that you’ll find out one way or another so there was no real point in trying to hide it from you. “Eighteen for the both of them,”

“Eighteen dollars? You spent eighteen dollars on two cups of coffee?” He was expecting that reaction from you.

“Proportionally it’s actually relatively inexpensive considering how it’s made and the beans that are used. Some professional coffee makers charge upwards of fourteen dollars a cup,”

“And those coffee makers are absolutely fucking insane,” You stare down at your cup as you internally judge whether it was worth a whole nine dollars. It was a great cup of coffee to be sure, probably the best one you’d ever had, but nine goddamn dollars? It wasn’t even a large cup. “Nine goddamn dollars for a cup of coffee my god,”

You can see Spencer’s expression falter slightly in your peripheral vision at your outrage of the price, something that you’d definitely not intended and something you considered an easy fix as you left your cup on the table to rifle through your bag.

“You are simply something else Dr Reid I swear,” The second you pull your purse out of your bag he knows what you’re going to do, and he tries to shut you down before you can even start.

“I- You don’t- I chose to pay for it with my own money you don’t-”

You make a ‘zip’ motion across your mouth with your middle and index finger to stop him from talking as you pull out a ten dollar note and shove it into the chest pocket of his cardigan so he can’t refuse to take it from you. “Never buy me a drink that expensive again,”

“Right,” Spencer presses his lips tight into a line with a small nod, “Did it taste okay at least?”

“It was probably the best cup of coffee I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t make it not ridiculously expensive.” Spencer doesn’t even try to suppress the smile that emerges on his face at your approval, even if it was backhandedly berating him for buying it in the process.

“Cough cough lovebirds, in case you forgot, Reid still needs to be debriefed about the new lead,” You don’t even bother trying to retort to Morgan as you pick up your coffee and leave the room with Spencer happily trailing behind you.

[lokisprettygirl]

The Bodyguard (Loki x Female reader) (Au) (18+)

Read chapter 42 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 43

Summary : The rich girl in you comes out for a moment and you fuck up.

Warning : 18+, Heavy Daddy kink, Smut, Unprotected sex, rough sex, Praise kink, Violence, Mentions of self harm, murderous thoughts, Mention of Suicide, Rape, abuse, sexual violence, Harsh language, bodyshaming, fatshaming, mention of neglect and abuse, emotional abuse, Unhealthy Eating Patterns, blackmail, starving and under eating, implied smut, mention of drug use, some weird feeding kink I’m (loki is) developing, short chapter

When Loki took you to the bakery you felt extremely nervous, but he was there all along, stroking your back to calm you down, your supervisor taught you to differentiate between different boxes and you weren't supposed to mess up. 

"Okay I think..I get it" you mumbled to her and she nodded before she left

"You got this baby..just give me a call if you feel anxious okay?" He kissed you softly and you nodded

"I'm right here baby..right here with you" 

You wished you would have listened to him and talked to him about your worries, about your incompetence, about your inability to do even a simple task. You met Hela and she wasn't downright rude to you but you didn't feel you two could ever become friends either. Suddenly everything overwhelmed you and you felt as if you didn't just fit into this life.

For two days your minor fuckups were fixed by your supervisor Carol and Loki was there to calm your nerves but she was getting annoyed you could tell, on third day in her absence you fucked up majorly. The boxes that were supposed to be used for cookies were swapped with cupcakes and it ruined those cupcakes. A whole batch got ruined because you messed up, you should have just called Loki and told him that you fucked up but you felt ashamed and humiliated. 

When they realised what you had done, Nick called you and asked you if you were okay and willing to do this job because if not he could hire someone who actually wanted to be there, he wasn't rude but you felt offended nonetheless, your ego got bruised and the rich girl in your snapped at him, he looked at Loki so he apologized on your behalf and grabbed your hand to take you out of his office. 

"He can't talk to me like that" you huffed angrily and he turned his head to look at you,

"Well he can, he's your boss darling and he wasn't being rude or obnoxious, he just wanted to know if you were willing to work here" Loki said to you and you crossed your arms. You didn't know why you thought he'd take your side on this. 

"Fine..I'm going home" you said to him and he shook his head,

"You're not going anywhere without me, it's not safe out there baby..okay?" he was called back to work so he asked you to wait for him but the anger and humiliation you felt in the moment made you want to run away. At home when you got hurt by your dad and Steve, you hid yourself in your room, that was your safe space and after you met Loki, he became that space but now seeing him not stand by your side even when you were being irrational hurt you immensely. 

So like a spoiled child you did exactly what he asked you to not do, you sent him a message and you went home or you tried, but you couldn't find your way, you were never good with direction, you wanted to find the address on the map but you didn't even remember that. It was written on a paper and you never memorised it. 

You should have just gotten back to the bakery but your phone died and you felt too afraid to even ask the locals, in the fear that they'd recognise you. You haven't even memorised Loki's new phone number yet. That's when you realised that you had fucked up.

Loki was worried and shocked that you'd even attempt to do something so careless, you knew how dangerous it was to go out there on your own but you did it anyways, he opened his message and just the simple three words made his heart still,

"I am leaving, I can't do this anymore" maybe you just meant the day and the job but his mind told him otherwise, his fears came to life when he came home and he didn't find you. His eyes welled up, anxiety was building every second so he called you but your phone was turned off. He paced back and forth in the living room blaming himself for this, he knew how hard it was for you, if he was more supportive you'd still be here. If he was more loving you won't leave him. 

"Please be okay baby please be okay..I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry" he cried as he mumbled to himself, he went down on his knees, panicking more and more as he looked around, feeling empty and hollow all over again. A memory from his past prickled his heart.

He was battered and bruised after his men had beat him to a pulp, barely awake when he heard Sameera's voice in his ears

"I am sorry Loki" his eyes fluttered but it was hard to see because of the blood dripping down in them.

"Truth is I never loved you, I only loved what you could do for me and you gave me that momentarily but then I didn't like it, I didn't enjoy what you gave me, I missed the money and being able to get whatever I wanted, go wherever I desired and you failed me, I'm sorry, I should have told you that" 

That was the last thing he ever heard from her before he passed out and fell into a coma.

"No she'd never leave me..she'd never hurt me like that, she's not her, she would never-- " his voice came out all muffled because it was getting harder for him to breathe. He couldn't even imagine you doing the same thing to him. You would never leave him like this, so he got up and decided to look for you all around the town, maybe you just got lost and your phone died. 

He went to all the places he had taken you in the last few days, the store, that one restaurant you really liked but he didn't find you anywhere. He was losing hope more and more, his mind screaming at him that he was abandoned again but he stopped to look at the gas station and that's where he found you, sitting on a chair all alone with a blank look on your face. 

You saw him but you didn't react, he didn't know what you were thinking so he walked towards you and sat down, you were relieved to see him, so relieved but you knew you had fucked up badly. For a good few minutes none of you said anything, he was angry, so angry and hurt and he didn't want his anger to get to his tongue. He didn't want to ruin this any further. He didn't want to lose you any more than he might have. 

"I'm sorry" you mumbled, your voice meak and sad, you turned your head to look at him and watched the tears slip past his cheeks, you tried to put your hand on his to comfort him but he pulled away and stood up.

"Are you going to come home with me? Or do you want to run away again?" He asked you stoically, his voice didn't carry the tenderness he had you spoiled with.

"I want to come home lo, I'm sorry I shouldn't have left, I should have listened to you" you weeped as you grabbed his hand but he pulled away again and started walking towards the car. He wanted to hold you and feel you around him, to make sure that you didn't abandon him too but he was beyond hurt and felt betrayed. He thought he had given you enough love that no matter what happens you'd come to him, he thought you'd talk to him but you ran instead. Anything could have happened to you, there were bad people around everywhere and you could have gotten yourself hurt, he could have lost you forever. 

He waited for you to sit inside and then drove off before you could say anything, no wonder Hela doesn't like you, and when she will hear about this, she'd hate you. All the rich girls are the same, spoiled by lavish lifestyle and treatment to see beyond that, you felt utterly foolish in the moment, a rash decision might have cost you his trust and you couldn't afford to lose that. 

"I didn't run Loki, I just wanted to get home, I just thought..I thought I would.. and my phone died and–" 

"Don't y/n.. just don't .. alright?" he cut you off mid sentence, your name sounded foreign coming out of his mouth because he always called you baby.

When you both reached home, he left again to grab dinner for you two and when he came back he didn't say anything to you, the way he was behaving was scaring you, you didn't want to lose him or the affection that you craved so badly. 

"Please talk to me" you walked towards him and tried to sit down on his lap but he shook his head, he was angry and he didn't want to say anything he won't be able to take back, but this stunt you pulled on him today had scared him, he was scared by your ability to just walk out on him. Just like she did. 

"Finish your food and go to sleep, I talked to Nick, he still wants you to work there..that only if you want to do it" he got up after he was done and went to the bathroom to take a shower, that's when he allowed himself to cry, how could you just run out there knowing the dangers and the circumstances. Why didn't you talk to him? 

When he came out, you were on the bed sniffing and he couldn't have that either, how could he ever sleep knowing that you were hurting? As he got in bed he wrapped his arm around and pulled you into him, he didn't say a word but his warmth was enough for now.

"I'm sorry loki..I'm sorry I never wanted to hurt you like this" 

"But you did" he mumbled and you nodded,

"How do I fix this? Please tell me what can I do? I can't take this lo, I can't –" 

"Go to sleep y/n..we will talk tomorrow" 

And you didn't argue for once, next morning when you woke up he was getting ready for work so you got ready too. You tried to kiss him but he pulled away immediately, his eyes gave it away, the sadness and hurt it held clenched your heart. 

On the way to the bakery he didn't say a word which was not like him at all. He always turned his head to look at you, compliment you for no reason or would just smile. 

When you reached the bakery he looked at you,

"Can I trust you to not leave without me?" His question hurt you deeply but you knew he wasn't being irrational, you couldn't even imagine the thoughts he must have had when he couldn't find you, maybe he thought that you abandoned him like Sameera did and you never wanted to put him through that pain. 

As Hela approached you two he smiled at her and bent down to hug her. Did she not know? Did he not tell her? You felt relieved but it also hurt you because he was all alone looking for you with several destructive thoughts in his head.

"Hello y/n" she greeted you so you bent down to hug her, she was taken aback for a moment but then she hugged you back. 

"I'll see you at lunch" Loki said to you and you nodded, well at least he talked to you. 

During lunch he sat in front of you but didn't say a word , he just ate silently, you could see how sad he seemed and you never wanted to hurt him like this after everything he has done for you, 

"Looo?" You called out to him and he hummed in response, didn't even look at you, then he got up and left once he was finished with his food. Your eyes teared up at the callousness, you have been ignored all your life so you were used to it but you didn't want him to do the same with you. When you both reached home, you hugged him tightly and he tried to pull away but your grip was strong, you won't let him ignore you anymore.

"I'm sorry lo.. What can I do? Please tell me..I can't..I can't lose you too..I don't have anyone..I just have you" your voice trembled and he couldn't take it, he couldn't make you feel that way, he had promised to always make you happy and he didn't want you to feel unloved even for a moment but he was so hurt by what you had done, he grabbed your shoulders to pull you away only to pull you closer to him again.

"Are you going to run away again?" 

"Never never I'm so sorry, I never wanted to run I promise, I just ..got angry" your voice choked on your tears as you spoke.

"Why?" He asked you and you looked down,

"You didn't take my side and I felt hurt" his eyes teared up more and you clutched onto the collar of his shirt to hide your face between the crook of his neck.

"I didn't take your side? When you were being a brat?" You looked at him and nodded as he said that.

"I'm sorry ..please" you cupped his cheeks to kiss him and he responded immediately, he picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the couch, he took his shirt off while you unbuttoned his jeans and his lips latched onto yours again, 

"Want me to fuck you? Answer in yes or no" you looked at him shocked, this was new, it was rough and passionate but not in a way that scared you, it comforted you instead.

"Yess please" 

As soon as you felt his cock inside, you couldn't help but smile, he placed his hands on the arms of the couch and used it as a leverage to thrust in and out of you, 

"Not on your side huh? All of this has been for you baby, I'd give up my whole life for you and you took off because I didn't take your side?" He whispered in your ear before he sucked on your neck softly. 

"I'd never..ever..ohhh daddy..I got lost I promise, I never wanted to run from you lo, I'd never leave you like that" you whimpered as the feeling he gave you in the moment confused you, he was upset you knew but he was also fucking you as if he'd never get to fuck you again. 

"Anything could have happened to you, do you have any idea how I would ever go on with my life without you? Living everyday knowing fucking too well that I failed you" his eyes teared up and he brought one of his hands to grab your chin and kissed you fiercely,

"You could never fail me lo, and I'm sorry I worried you and hurt you, I never wanted that..I love you lo..I love you so much daddy" 

You mumbled between the kiss and he grunted as his orgasm approached.

"And I fucking love you so never ever try that shit on me again or I'd lock you up here I promise you, I'd rather keep you bound then be dead out there" 

You tried to register his words and it made you cum, you knew he was upset and just saying anything, as soon as his anger would subside he'd melt into a puddle and probably apologise for this. But God you'd be lying if you say that this side of him didn't want you to stay at his feet all the time.

Once he got back to his senses he pulled out immediately and cleaned you up, he got a phone call and you asked him who it was but he said it was from Nick but you knew he was lying.

Then he put his clothes on and left the house, leaving you all confused. 

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