#just shook his hand told him to have faith and left him

[arthursfuckinghat]

"Faith, Arthur.. Have faith"

[wroteclassicaly]

For The Record

(Steve Harrington x Female Reader)

Summary: You have a surprise for your best-friend Steve.

Word count: 1,647

Warnings: Language, NSFW, creampie, vaginal sex, slight choking, slight breeding kink if you squint, and fluff.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

A/N: Just a filthy little thing that I’ve been nurturing for a few days. No point to it, just showing Stevie some love! Haven’t written anything this lengthy in a while, but I hope y’all enjoy? ;P 💕❤️🥰♥️

Steve. Steve-fucking-Harrington. The heart of your group with a head of hair (that you’d washed, brushed, picked monster guts out of, and pulled, one too many times), a comforting smile that reminded you of Summer’s fading sunsets that give way to fall colors. All copper, rust, orange, mossy caramels swirling together, deep browns that look like cinnamon (smells like the gum he chews, or the breath spray he carries in his back pocket), sometimes even red in how his cheeks tinge on cold days, the way he makes your body warm. To his protective - fighter mode, like a crafted out of the finest marble guardian-angelic-god.

You’d worship at his temple. All day. Every single day.

His mouth has been in as many places as his hands. He knows every scar, just as much as he’s aware of spots, in which kissing you will cause goosebumps to electrify, sparking themselves known across your skin, or where his fingers will cause that high pitched whine to come from between your lips. You can’t really fathom that it’s been happening, especially for how long. There’s been no talk of labels, what anything means, it’s just been two friends crossing a line and fucking one another on it. You don’t know what you would’ve done, had it not been for Steve-the-hair-Harrington, King Steve, your extra heartbeat, your best-friend, your everything.

And that’s what led you to your current predicament, your planned leap of faith. Wrapped in a maroon colored mini gift bag, you had placed the packet. Steve arrived not long after, movies and pizza balanced in his massive hands, keys dangling from the middle finger of his left hand, a cheesy grin pressing into that beautiful mouth. “Hey, honey,” he had said. “Really missed you today, you know that?”

You’d taken in his appearance of dark Levi’s and a black belt, his signature Nike’s, and a low dipped white v-neck that he’d thrown a plain blue button over, leaving it open, his gold chain visible, nestled in that patch of chest hair. Salivating more at him than the food, it took you a second to help him inside.

You ate in avid chatter, watched one of the lamest, but most comforting horror films Steve could find on the shelves (that no one rented but he knew you’d appreciate), whilst being tucked beneath his bicep, warmed at his side. That’s when you’d retrieved the gift off your coffee table, his palm rubbing circles across your spine, kneading tension until you returned to your position. You handed him the bag and his bushy brows had pinched together, an adorable confusion clear. “For me? What did I do?”

“Just open it, Harrington. Before my nerves make me take it back.”

He cradled the parcel protectively, a pout forming as his watch strapped wrist dips inside. “No way, no how. Nope, not now.”

“Steve…” you laughed lightly, suddenly swallowing as he pulled the packet out, trying to make sense of the name.

“Contraceptive? I don’t… Isn’t this birth control?” He shook the packet before planting it in his massive palm.

You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, choking you like a vice, preventing you from answering in a full sentence.

“Yeah.”

“So, it’s yours? Why did you wrap it up and give it to me?”

“There’s a few missing already, Steve. I just wanted to get used to them before… Before I told you.”

“Told me, what?” He still looked puzzled, seeking out where you’d opened the package and taken a few tablets.

“That I just wanna use these from now on. Nothing else. If you, if that’s okay with you...?” You had felt the sharp claws of the butterflies, threatening to demolish your remaining courage. But this was Steve, you needed to remember that.

It took him a few moments, but then his pupils expanded within the enriching mossy flecks of his irises, at a rapid pace. His tongue licked at the five o’clock shadow above his upper lip. His voice, you’ll never forget how it sounded. Honey-hot and hoarse, raspy with bitten want, raw fucking desire. You’d clenched your thighs together, tongue eager to lick him… every-fucking-where — the burn of it felt on the muscle’s tip.

“Isn’t that something you do with a boyfriend, though? Not casual sex with a good friend, one of your best-friends?”

And you nod, vision swimming with shapes. Had you messed up? Fuck it. “It is.” Is what you’d responded with, taking the packet from him and tossing it with the bag back onto the table. The movie was rolling credits in the background and you were watching Steve’s dotted jugular as he swallowed, showcasing those tendons, all the way up to that stubble bitten jawline, dotted with freckles and moles.

“And who is your boyfriend, honey?” He had to hear you say it. If it’s what he thought it was, or you’d simply break his heart and move on to this guy. Could he really believe in a good thing again?

You leapt off that faithful precipice, years and feelings following, eyes locking, gaze unrelenting. “I was hoping it would be you.”

He was obviously choked up, orbs alight with mirth and excitement, among other things. “Funny that you mention that, because I’ve been hoping for the exact same thing.”And he’d fallen into your arms, seizing you with a kiss, noses nudging, tongues eager and messy. Clothes couldn’t come off fast enough.

The king sized condom lays unopened on your plush blush rug. Having fallen out of Steve’s wallet, that had also tumbled from his jean pocket in haste. Everything was out of control in the best possible way. You could’ve sworn you died a few minutes prior and came back as immortal — able to see through particles that floated on the air, hear cars, horns, music from houses all across town, smell the leaves that clung to the trees, damp with rain water and Autumn air. Your eyes roll back, perspiration damp behind the backs of your knees, where he’s got his current pinching grip, the fat of your thighs pressed into your tits, squishing them.

You realize in the moment, that you truly loathe condoms. Because this? Feeling that wet pre-cum smear down his shaft and around your opening as he pushed himself into you without a barrier for the first time, it was an indescribable experience. Each ridge, every vein, so hot, soft, and fucking, soaking wet. You aren’t sure where he ends and you begin. It hurts like hell, aches in the deepest parts of you, a place you know that he could easily put a child if you slipped up on your only remaining protection.

That thought makes you tighten around him, cream spilling out and further slicking back the curls gathered at his base. He drops your thighs, sweat-slick pelvis smashing into yours, stimulating your swollen clit. His chest hair scrapes against your pebbled nipples, making you arch your back and your toes curl, legs locking around his lower waist. He whines, palm coming up to grasp at your breast, calloused thumb strumming around your areola. “God, honey, your fucking nipples were made for my mouth to suck on.”

And he’s descending, his lips closing over one, tongue flicking and stimulating. You cry out, hand fisting into his honey streaked, chestnut locks. His shoulders work and bend, the dips and freckles and moles visible, glittering with the salt of sweat, his gold chain swaying out from his hairy chest and back again when he stops, nose bumping yours, hot breath on your mouth. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

And holy hell, his vocalizing focus doesn’t cease. “Who took your virginity, honey?” You both know it wasn’t him. But you are well aware what he’s getting at, and as he gives a harsh snap, those full and fat balls smacking your slick ass, you lose further coherency. “That’s right,” he’s speaking again. “They don’t matter, but I do.”

You weren’t aware that you could make the noises that you are. Only able to speak once Steve’s tugging himself and pulling out, stringing from your cunt to his shaft, a squelch echoing. You both groan, emptiness already jumpstarted. You plead for him. “Please, Stevie, need you! Put it back in —“

“Say it, say you’re just a hole for me to fill. That you’re only mine, baby.”

“I… Fuck! Stevie, all my holes are only yours, I’m only yours!”

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, before his jaw drops open and he whimpers. His hand leaves your breast and slides across your sternum, your collarbone, and settles at your neck. You nod to encourage, and those defined digits wrap around your throat.

“Tell me you love these big hands, sweetheart. Because they’re for you. They belong to you!”

“Want them all over me, Steve. All the time. Can’t get enough of you.”

He’s holding firm to his cock, stroking and teasing. You lick your lips as you stare at it, drooling. Reaching down, you tap his wrist (his arm, all muscles and tendons, thick and available to trace with your tongue), as he presses the thick red head into your clit, smearing the combination of you two all around. You mewl in appreciation, legs stretching so far apart that your muscles protest. He’s speaking next, panting out, “Like that? Hey, look at me. He grabs your chin, thumb tugging down your bottom lip. “Like. That?”

Your lip releases with a plop.

“Yes, yes! Don’t stop, Steve, never wanna not feel you again, baby boy!”

“That’s a good girl, that’s my girl.” He circles your sore opening and slips back inside with a loud, wet ease. You bite back the burning pain, welcoming the damp tears of pleasure along your lashes.

Your manicured nails cling to his back, his chest gliding along yours, heartbeat to hammering heartbeat. It’s frantic whispers and begging cries. And when he’s close to coming, you find his cheek with one hand, holding. “For the record, you’ve never been casual to me, Steve Harrington.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[dixons-sunshine]

The Talk | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: No reader descriptions! Reader can be Hershel's adopted daughter. Also, this kinda sucks, but we're gonna roll with it.

Daryl could feel his cheeks burn with a heat that would make the sun jealous. He was leaning against the doorframe while nervously fidgeting with his fingers, his gaze fixated on the ground below. He was starting to royally regret his actions that led up to this highly embarrassing event. And, judging by the way you kept shifting your weight from one leg to the other, he could see that you did, too.

Your father was a lot of things. Kind. Compassionate. Understanding. But above all else? He was a man of faith, a man of God. He firmly believed that sex was an act that should be reserved until marriage. He held a steadfast grip on his beliefs, which made it extremely uncomfortable for you due to the fact that your father had decided that particular moment would be the perfect time to have ‘the talk’—with your partner in the room.

“Dad, is this really necessary?” you asked him incredulously, your eyes widened as you gave him ‘the look’, a look he understood all too well. “You know we've been together for what, six months now? It's a bit too late for this talk.”

Hershel Greene let out a small chuckle, his wise eyes flickering between you and Daryl. “Humour me, Sweetheart.”

“I'm twenty years too old for this, don't you think?”

“You're never too old for a gentle reminder,” Hershel denied with a shake of his head. “Now, Maggie and Glenn had to go through this. It's only fitting that I do the same with the two of you.”

You groaned and shook your head. “I'm not in my early twenties anymore, Dad. I'm in my thirties. I think I'm mature enough to be responsible, don't you think?”

“Daryl.” The archer practically winced when Hershel's gaze rested on him. “I know this must be quite embarrassing for you, Son, but please be rest assured that I'm not here to threaten you in any way. I know that's not in any way effective.” Daryl let out a small sigh of relief, making Hershel chuckle. “Now, to spare my daughter the embarrassment because I can see the way she's death glaring me, I'll keep this short; are you using protection?”

Daryl's eyes widened. He nearly choked on his own spit. “I—I dun'—um—”

“Dad!” you exclaimed in embarrassment. “Please! Just don't.”

Hershel chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I'll lighten up. Just don't do it without the proper protection, okay?”

“Okay!” you told him. “Can you go now? Please?”

“Alright,” Hershel chuckled. He moved over to the door and extended his hand in a handshake. When Daryl hesitantly accepted the handshake, Hershel leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Hurt her and I'll hurt you, got it?”

Well, so much for not threatening him, Daryl thought. He nodded, however, and with that, Hershel finally left. Daryl let out a breath when he felt you embrace him from behind. “What the hell was that all 'bout?” he questioned with a scoff.

You simply giggled and shook your head. “Beth just got with Zach and she's refusing to have the talk with him. I guess this was his way of feeling like he has some semblance of control, even if it was unnecessary.”

Daryl chuckled. “Not gon' lie, this was prolly both the most amusin' and most terrifyin' moment of my life.”

“Yeah, but you prevailed. I'm proud of you.”

Daryl scoffed and turned around in your embrace, his hands going to rest on your hips. A small, lopsided smile rested on his face. “It would'a been amusin' to see what he would'a said if we told him ya were pregnant.”

“Do you want him to get a heart attack?” you laughed. “I'm not gonna lie to my dad like that.”

“Admit it. It would'a been kinda funny, though.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Yeah,” you finally conceded. “Yeah, it would've been pretty funny.”

[vanilleandclove]

the meadow in which you lay | 4

ser erryk cargyll x arryn!reader | chapter four: to ward and protect

As the news of Viserys's death rings through the realm, you quickly take arms to aide your cousin and be her greatest asset as she has fully begun her labors. Making way to King's Landing as quickly as you could, taking the connecting road from Dragonstone rather than sailing.

word count: 1.5k | warnings: conversations of religion and faith, descriptions of a high-risk birth. erryk jinxes his own death... | a/n: i changed how rhaenyra finds out the death of viserys and how her birthing sequence was! everything is in fact, intentional. this part is shorter than the others (filler lol). happy hotd day!

previous - next

taglist: @wolvestitches @holb32 @callsignwidow @fwaeriys @hummusxx

"The life of King Viserys was taken brother" you spat, your hand gripping your hair under stress, the night was dark and only the livestock were filling the gaps in silence, "He was murdered by the Hightower's as they drunken him with milk of the poppy, Rhaenyra, Daemon and I- we all saw it".

"I am only sharing the news for you to make arrangements with our cousin, they plan to anoint Aegon as King to the Iron Throne" your brother gripped your upper arm, "We will rally support for our cousin's claim just as she is our kin, but she needs your support at court. You and I both know of Daemon's temper, Rhaenyra may not want a war immediately, but he will" he continued, "You may also seek comfort with… Erryk" your brother lightly teased.

It took a near several days, few days too long, to reach Dragonstone, just as Rhaenyra began her labors, you had reached Dragonstone. The halls filled with your cousins screams, your brother demanding the knights to find Daemon, you searched the halls to find Jace and Luke, only to find them sparring on the beach.

"The Lady Y/n Arryn!" the knights announced in sync, causing the boys to shift their attention rather quickly, smiles donning on the princes' faces only to be diminished as they noticed the somber look on your face.

"Your mother is in labor dear boys!" you shouted, "She will need your support".

As the boys sprinted to flee the beach and return back to the keep, you saw the look of concern reach both the children's faces, you quickly followed just behind the two before reaching Rhaenyra's chambers; her groans of pain filling the walls of the room, bouncing off the stones. You left the boys to their mother before Rhaenyra called you into the room.

"I will set voyage to King's Landing Rhaenyra" you told her immediately, "They surely taken Rhaenys as prisoner, perhaps I can free her". Your cousin gripped your hand like a vice, before nodding at your words, seeing the sheer and unrelenting agony your cousin was facing. "I can wait until the end of your labors" you spoke with concern, staring into her eyes and rubbing her back.

She shook her head before dismissing you. You immediately reached your horse before setting voyage for King's Landing, not caring how sore the inner parts of your thighs were or how exhausted you were, your cousin needed you. Taking from the look of her face and the absence of Daemon in her chambers as she was birthing.

You rather wished to have a dragon to set this voyage, but your horse, a beautiful, white steed was enough. You had sharpened your sword before setting off to Dragonstone with your brother, though not having to brandish it, you would rather be safe than sorry.

Taking two-night falls to reach King's Landing, promptly being met with the acts of whores and drunks running rapid in the streets of silk. You knew the sneakier spots of the Red Keep, ones where guards do not patrol, but you had to change your attire to your undergarments as they were rather less formal. As you avoided the guards easily before being met with silver directly to your face.

You cursed your lack of plan before realizing who you ran into, Erryk. His hand quickly coming to your mouth to stop you from yelping, scurrying you both off into a quarter, locking the door just behind you to prevent unwanted visitors. You searched his eyes as you knew them to be ravaged with concern and guilt, as he rested his forehead on yours, your heart thumping in your chest.

"You could have gotten yourself killed my Lady" Erryk's lip quivered before resting a hand on your waist, you faintly sobbed before grabbing a hold of the knight's face, "How did you-?".

"Do not worry about it" you answered, kissing the knight deeply, "I must find Princess Rhaenys, I was hoping I'd find you under different circumstances".

"Alicent has imprisoned her in her quarters and has kept Meleys in the Dragon Pit" Erryk faltered, "I cannot reach her just yet, Criston has been guarding her door heavily".

"We both know how piss poor Criston is at his job" you chuckled, "Tomorrow is Aegon's coronation, Criston will be occupied. If you need aide to take down the guard after him, I will gladly help my love".

He laughed, looking deeply into your irises, wishing to love you more than just by words and soulful feelings, kissing your lips once more. "I missed you my Lady" placing another kiss on your lips, this time filled with the wanton need for your own soul, how beautiful your light whimpers were. Your kisses were halted by the noises of the maidens and maesters roaming the halls, your foreheads touching once more.

"We cannot, not now at least" you began, "Let us just lay together Erryk, come morning we will have Rhaenys and Meleys. I know of your hatred to the usurper and his kin, swearing fealty to Rhaenyra is an oath you may choose if you wish. I will swear to aide my cousin in this battle for the throne no matter your position".

"I love you" he whispered, "I will follow the true heir, Queen Rhaenyra. I swore an oath, I plan to keep it" he continued, before kissing you once more. You often wondered how many sins you have committed under the eyes of the Seven, granted you never expressed such emphasis in creed, though you honored the ones who did for they had a better purpose to live than you did.

"Do you believe in fate?" you questioned the knight as there was a silent pause between the two of you, "That everything happens for a reason rather than that of nature's design?".

"I believe we all have set paths that our experiences guide us to" Erryk answered, "But some things are of nature's design. I could die on the hour, but I can also die in a fortnight from today, or when I am old and spent".

You would hope to whatever deity that was looking over your conversation that his death would be one of peace, when he is in fact old and frail, not when he has years of wisdom and love ahead of him. You could only hope, what such a dangerous concept to leave in the hands of stranger you never once knew. You did envy Alicent of one thing, her gods excused her treachery, only wishing the Seven could have blessed you when it came to who you found yourself in love with.

Come the hour of the wolf, all murmurs of the streets simmered, the only noise that filled your ears was that of Erryk's soft huffs and heartbeat as your head laid on his chest. Erryk's calloused hand found purchase in your hair as he slept; whereas you found yourself restless, perhaps a symptom of anxiousness that riddled your bones so much that it penetrated into your soul.

What dark games the life you held in your hands played, wishing for your burdens to be released. Not wishing to wake the knight that laid under your body, how the long hours of being a part of the Kingsguard must have also burdened him greatly. You too would be deeply trammeled if you had to guard the secrets of Aegon, depravity and all. Venturing on into your mind, you wondered how your cousin was holding up in the wake of her labors.

The morning came as quick as the night, the faint pain that pounding in your head was a nuisance, but you had duties to proceed to. As you helped Erryk dress into his armor, you caught glimpses of cuts and scars that littered his back, noticing the definition of the muscle in his arms.

"May you?" Erryk held the white cloak in his hands, a reminder of the oaths he took. You nodded, though his back to you inhibited him from seeing. You clipped the cloak into his armor, careful not to pinch his skin.

You may not believe in fate, but you do believe it was written in the constellations that you were bound to meet the knight of your dreams.

[romanceyourdemons]

here’s a second century warlord followup (3.2k words)

By Strategem, Huang Mi Turns Aside an Army of 100,000

Huang Mi cut down the hill to the south of the city and realized four feet down how poor an idea that was. The hill, steep enough that he had to descend in zigzags, had seized into a stone-hard lump with November frost, and the glazing of snow spread across the unyielding dirt denied his shoes any purchase at all. He managed to slide directly down for several feet, his knees bent and his skirts hitched to his knees in an already unsuccessful attempt to keep them free from winter muck, but his right foot caught on a stone, turning his controlled glide into an unplanned splits and then into a reeling, careening half-tumble down the rest of the hill. He was glad the blank south wall of the city was the only thing bearing witness to his humiliation. He was less glad when a man caught him, and less glad still when he recognized the man as the one he least wanted to be embarrassed in front of. “Lord Yue,” he said, bowing before his liege to keep his flushing face angled toward the snow. He would have much preferred breaking an arm against a tree.

“Yuzhi,” said Lord Yue, helping Huang Mi up. “You’re hurt?”

Huang Mi shook his head. 

Lord Yue wrapped his scarf around Huang Mi’s shoulders and neck. “You’re cold, then. Where’s your horse?”

“Still up there. I couldn’t figure out how to get it down the hill.”

“You just take that footpath around.”

“Oh.” Huang Mi turned to make the long trek up to where he had left his horse tied to a branch, but Lord Yue took his arm and turned him back.

“I’ll send someone up to get it. Let’s get inside first and discuss.”

Huang Mi barely remembered to give Lord Yue back his scarf before they entered the room where General Chou, General Wu, and Governor Han waited to hear the results of Huang Mi’s expedition to the army camped thirty li to the south of the city. That army should be the only thing on their minds. Huang Mi would have gladly kept Lord Yue’s scarf and maybe slept holding it, but he could not allow anyone in that room suspect that his feelings for his liege were anything other than appropriate loyalty. That he could not let Lord Yue know went without saying: he had great trust in Huang Mi as his advisor, and anything that damaged that trust put their entire army at risk. Neither General Chou nor General Wu particularly appreciated Huang Mi’s quick elevation in the six months since he swore loyalty to Lord Yue. They were brilliant warriors and valuable generals, General Chou highly capable in frontal attack and General Wu with a skill for ambush, and between the two of them Huang Mi did not doubt they could take care of him cleanly enough. And of course he could not let Governor Han know: she was Lord Yue’s wife. He tried to make himself look presentable as he sat to deliver his report.

“The army is a hundred thousand strong. They are trying to reach Lord Liu within the week, and they are demanding two-thirds of our grain.”

Governor Han interrupted incredulously: “They expect us to survive off a third of our stores?” Between the citizens, the army, and the four households of refugees they had accepted earlier that month, it would be difficult to make their grain last the winter as it was.

“They were very specific. They claim they will accept the gift of two-thirds of our grain, or they will sack the city and take all of it.”

“I certainly hope you didn’t take them up on that.”

“I told them they should save their efforts. We’ll burn the grain before letting it fall into their hands.”

Lord Yue nodded proudly, the way he nodded proudly at everything Huang Mi said. He had too much faith in Huang Mi. The generals had just the right amount of faith and muttered bitterly between themselves. In fact, Huang Mi had not intended to make such a bold statement at all. His plan had been to stall and make a break for home as soon as possible, but his “there’s no need” had turned into a fierce statement of opposition before he fully planned the sentence. He wished Lord Yue didn’t trust him so much. He really wasn’t much of an advisor at all. 

“I hope you have some kind of brilliant plan, Advisor Huang,” said General Wu. He articulated the title with acid precision, and, even though Huang Mi did not particularly mind having lost the command he once held, he knew a barb when he saw one. He smiled, though, and assured the generals that the situation was under control, and Lord Yue suggested they have some supper first, if Yuzhi’s plan could allow for such a delay. Huang Mi’s plan certainly could: it did not exist yet. He wished Lord Yue wasn’t so good to him. He wished he could tell Lord Yue that he was as good as he claimed.

Governor Han drew Huang Mi aside as the group broke to prepare for supper. “You don’t have a plan, do you?”

Huang Mi went very still, like a cornered deer. Governor Han had been Lady Han until the city’s erstwhile governor became bedridden with a sudden illness in September and asked Lord Yue to manage civil affairs until he recovered. Lord Yue had no training managing civil affairs, but his wife did, and she had filled the post flawlessly. The title “Governor” had originated as one of the generals’ low blows, but Governor Han not only allowed but preferred it. Her skill in governing certainly merited it. She and Lord Yue, Huang Mi had pieced together from confessions and rumors, had been espoused in an effort to prevent the war that broke out between their fathers and killed them both regardless. Proper spousal affection had never developed between the two, not even when she traveled to the front to be with her husband after he suffered a grave injury, and especially not when, more than eight months later, she was still unable to return home. She preferred to speak to him as Governor Han and Lord Yue, rather than as his undesired wife and her undesired husband. Huang Mi did not understand how she could not love Lord Yue—after the many long nights he had spent with Lord Yue playing chess and discussing schools of strategy, he had determined that there was no one in this world better, kinder, braver, more intelligent, or more gorgeous than his sworn liege lord—but that was Huang Mi’s own problem, not Governor Han’s. For now, Governor Han’s problem was Huang Mi. “You don’t have a plan,” she said efficiently. “Tell me what you think your plan should be.” 

Like a whirling leaf catching on any tree in its path, Huang Mi’s whirling mind caught on anything that looked like a plan. “General Chou can pin them against the bend in the river, and then General—”

“River’s frozen. Won’t work.”

“General Chou can lead them into Hawthorn Pass, then a contingent led by General Wu can burn—”

“Everything’s wet. Won’t work.”

“General Chou can guar—” Huang Mi noticed Lord Yue approaching and quickly changed his tone. “General Chou will divide his men to guard the north, west, and east gates, making as much a show of force as he can. A hundred archers will hide out of sight on the south wall, and, after dark, we will boil snow on a bonfire inside the walls. The enemy will see this and think that we are burning our grain, and that we are relying on the protection of the hill to defend us on the south side. They are desperate for grain, and will pour down the hill into the pits full of sharpened sticks that we have dug. The archers will also shoot them down, and General Wu will have led his men around behind his camp by way of Hawthorn Pass to rout them from there.” 

Lord Yue smiled, apparently completely satisfied with this made-up plan, but Governor Han frowned. “Why will they go directly down the hill when there’s a footpath?”

“We’ll block it with boulders. I got a look around the enemy’s camp—they’re eating every third day. They won’t be too careful.”

“And do you really think we can have your pits dug by nightfall?” Her skepticism seemed softened, but it was certainly far from appeased.

“If Governor Han will let us requisition wagons from the city to transport the earth away, I am sure we can manage it.”

“Excellent,” Lord Yue said. “I’ll inform the generals, and we’ll get to work.”

If the generals received Huang Mi’s plan with their usual sidelong remarks, Huang Mi did not hear them. They began work, and they worked as evening bled scarlet over the cloudy skies, and it was not until twilight grey muddied the sunset that Governor Han pulled Huang Mi away from Lord Yue once again. “It’s not going to work,” she said. “The ground is too hard.”

She was right, of course. Even with pickaxes the work was too slow. Huang Mi sought refuge from the obvious in ill-advised bravado: “If we had my hometown men here, the pit would already be ten spans deep.” He missed his men. He had not been a good commander to them, and he was glad that they were safely in the service of the shrewd and competent lord they had intended to swear loyalty to from the start, but there were times when he felt very, very alone in Lord Yue’s camp, and there were times when he lay awake at night to worry about the inevitable day when he would have to strategize for the man he loved against the men he loved. If he cared for Lord Yue less, he would be able to forget his lord. If he cared for Lord Yue more, he would be able to forget his men. He knew he would never forget his hometown, cradled by soft green mountains where immortals liked to hide and full like a cup with the scent of plum blossoms. He knew that he would likely never see his hometown again. He would likely never see a springtime again. It would have been better for everyone if he had never laid eyes on Lord Yue.

“This stops now.”

“What?”

Governor Han crossed her arms. “Advisor Huang, listen to me. When I was young, I was in love with my tutor. I might still be. I’d have to see him again to know for sure. I wanted him to admire me, so I would say just anything in answer to his questions. And he was just as infatuated with me as I was with him, so he would accept my wrong answers. My father heard me give a completely incorrect recitation, and he said that to me: ‘This stops now. You can marry your tutor and I’ll get you a new one, or you can get yourself out of love with him and continue your studies.’ That’s what I’m telling you now. Get yourself out of love with Lord Yue or get yourself into something real with him, but this—” An eloquent flick of a fingertip summed up Huang Mi’s past six months of agony. “This stops now.”

Huang Mi wanted to say something to stall, but he could not come up with even the most meaningless of platitudes.

“I don’t mind and he won’t mind,” Governor Han continued mercifully. “He doesn’t mind my lover. I think he minds that you’re not already his. I only care that, short of some flash of genius from your famous mind, my city is going to be ruined by morning. Make your decision.”

“I…” This decision was too big to make. This decision was more daunting than the army a hundred thousand strong camped beyond the hill. “I need some time,” he said, leaving Governor Han before she had a chance to call him back and struggling directly up the hill, relishing the sting of cold and bark tearing at his hands as he pulled himself up by roots and stones. He balanced himself on the ridge, windmilling his arms to keep himself from falling backwards as he shuffled to a more sure footing and turned around. Through the gloom and heavy flakes of snow, the archers on the south wall could not be discerned at all. That was good. The line of trees and brush at the bottom of the hill broke up the shape of the pit and made it difficult to identify from this height. That was good. But the pit was hardly a forearm’s length deep, and the twilight was already tightening into dusk. They did not have time. He squatted and contemplated falling onto his side as he watched snow gather on their two dozen wagons of dirt. This snow fell so heavily, so fast. Already some of the wagons looked like they were filled not with frozen soil but with—

Huang Mi bolted to his feet quickly enough to make his cold knees ache and began pelting directly down the hill with violent abandon. He did not care what it cost. He needed to get to his lord as soon as legs would take him. Running calculations on the fingers of one hand as he poured himself over the uneven snowy ground lost him his balance, and he traveled the rest of the hill on his stomach and face, but he had his answer as Lord Yue helped him up a dozen yards from the hill’s base and half-carried him to even ground. “Tarps,” Huang Mi said. “Governor Han, we need tarps! We need to act quickly, my lord. Have the men shovel snow onto the wagons, enough to cover all the dirt. Full to heaping. Then have them cover the wagons with the tarps, but tack them down carelessly—leave snow showing. General Wu will lead the wagons by the high road through Hawthorn Pass. Two torches in front, no other lights. Then he’ll dump the wagons—” A dark look from Governor Han made Huang Mi hastily amend his plan— “the wagons’ contents into the gorge, extinguish his torches, and return as quickly and stealthily to the city as possible, keeping off the main road and hiding the wagons in woods for safekeeping.”

“Is that all your plan?” asked General Wu. He wanted to pick a fight, but Huang Mi did not have time.

“Three more things,” he said shortly. “General Chou will rearrange his men to guard this gate as well, and Lord Yue will prepare a force to attack the camp once General Wu informs us of the completion of his task, and if General Wu loses a single man before sunrise then on sunrise he may personally kill me any way he wishes.”

Lord Yue made a sound of acute concern, and Huang Mi certainly did not enjoy having to put his neck on the line to make his word good, but it was almost dark and there was no time to bandy words. He smiled at Lord Yue and shook his head, and Lord Yue sighed. “Do what Yuzhi says,” he said, “or the consequences will be the same as if you had disobeyed me.” General Wu pressed his lips together to smother his mouthful of words and bowed to accept the instructions; Governor Han raised her eyebrows expectantly at Huang Mi and permitted his reassuring look; and Huang Mi’s new plan ground into action, shovelful by shovelful. 

“My lord,” Huang Mi said on their return to the city, once he and Lord Yue were safely alone between four walls. He had an ultimatum to meet. It frightened him more than rebuffing the ultimatum of the enemy, but Governor Han had been right. This had to end now.

“How many times will I have to ask you to call me Ziyi?”

“My lord, this may be the last plan I make for you.”

Lord Yue shook his head emphatically. “I won’t let General Wu hurt you, Yuzhi. I won’t even let him scratch you.”

Huang Mi’s heartbeat pushed and tugged at his fingertips, hidden inside his sleeves. He resisted the urge to chew his knuckle. “It’s not that. It’s…” Any words he might have followed these eluded him, so he tried again: “I wouldn’t mind dying, either, if I—could kiss you first.” The sentence stung the air. He had preferred his cowardice. He finished his confession as lamely as he had begun: “And I am afraid that makes me an unfit advisor.”

“I’m not.”

Lord Yue let silence spool out after these words for so long that Huang Mi began to wonder what they meant.

“I won’t lose you, Yuzhi,” Lord Yue said. In the firelight his eyes looked more green than gold, and his hands already enclosed Huang Mi’s cold hands as he spoke. “Not as an advisor, not as a lover. You’re the only one I really trust.”

“The generals say I’m a rabbit trying to lead a pack of wolves.” Huang Mi wanted to bolt.

Lord Yue smiled, a smile that suggested the generals were going to receive a lecture soon. “A rabbit, perhaps, but a rabbit with the instincts of a tiger and the good fortune of a phoenix—and the looks of a very handsome man. I’ll even kiss you if you call me Ziyi.”

Huang Mi felt light-headed. This was not something that was supposed to happen. This was something he had wanted to happen for—for his whole life, it seemed to him now, but it was not something that was supposed to happen. He made himself nod. He made himself ignore his racing heart and say, “Okay… my lord.” He did not realize his error until Ziyi began to laugh, and then he smiled too and corrected himself—“Ziyi, Ziyi, Ziyi”—until Ziyi’s lips got in the way of his voice. 

General Wu returned before long, his men still unharmed, and Ziyi took reluctant leave of Huang Mi to lead his crack troops to the deserted field of melted snow where the enemy had recently been. The enemy, mistaking the ill-lit wagons of snow for all the city’s grain, had followed General Wu to the gorge, where they had seen the destruction, it seemed, of the grain they so desperately needed. Caught between the options of finding a way to the bottom of the gorge to salvage what had not been washed away by the river and crossing the bridge to the next stronghold, already distantly visible, they chose to break camp and move on. 

When Ziyi saw Huang Mi again, he picked him up and twirled him around; when the generals saw Huang Mi again, they grudgingly nodded respect. When Governor Han saw Huang Mi again, she congratulated him and told him that she wanted every borrowed wagon returned undamaged by the end of the next day. General Wu had hell to pay when he could not find one of the wagons again. But that was not a problem Huang Mi had to solve. For seven days and seven nights, Ziyi never once let him feel cold.

[grugruel]

Lust for Vampyr

Pairings: Paul Hill x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A new handsome priest arrives at Crockett Island and youre desperate for his attention, but when he seems to be avoiding you, you do the only logical thing. Show up at his door

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: Blasphemy, age-gap (reader over 20), oral sex (f! receving), pinv sex, rough sex, praise kink, slight thigh kink? Little bit of edging and cock-warming, tasting of blood (vampire shenanigans), PRIEST KINK.

Id never really found any interest in attending mass, despite my parents insistent attempts to drag me along. I had been watching the old monsignor preach for years now until he left for his pilgrimage, leaving a blank spot for a new priest to take his place.

Paul Hill had he called himself, and it was like lightning struck. All of a sudden I had a new fevor for the faith and although I had moved out long ago, my parents were thrilled to say the least. Little did they know though, that a fire had stirred within me. I started with innocent glances, admiring him from a far, telling myself it was just because of his enthusiastic way of preaching. But then getting a thing for his tall stature, big hands and stark black hair. He had me cleching my thighs together as I sat next to my parents in the church pews.

He made me want to confess my every sin to him and eventually I did, when I grew desperate enough. Just for the chance to hear him breath in that quiet intimate way I had begun to crave.

We had met briefly, just to introduce ourselves, but thats it. I wanted to talk to him more though, learn more about him. So I started lingering after mass, telling my parents to go on ahead without me just so I could get a word with the new father. But he usually dissapered into thin air before I got the chance, seemingly avoiding me like the black death.

Which Is how I ended up in my current situation. It was after the usual mass, I had dressed extra nicely tonight. I was standing in the cold on the fathers poarch, knocking on the rectory door in my fancy dress, black tights and mary janes.

I felt out of place, I know I shouldnt be here for this reason, I know I shouldnt have dressed nice in an effort to seduce a man of the church. Shame crept up my cheeks, coloring them a bright red. But I heard shuffling behind the door, then footsteps coming toward me and immedietly regretted my decision.

What was I doing? This is so stupid, hes going to send me away, direct me back to my parents like a lost child. My thoughts came to a sudden halt when the door finally opened, and there he stood. Father Paul.

He was in his regular black shirt and white collar, wearing his tight jeans. His eyebrows rose when he saw me, 'Ah' he sighed, as if expecting me but surprised none the less.

'Father.' I greeted, smiling faintly, 'Youre a busy man, you always disappear after mass, its hard to find time to talk with you.' I told him, he smiled apologetically 'Unfortunately yes, Ive had some urgent business to atend to lately, its taken up all my past time.' He explained as his gaze trailed down my body, eyes lingering on my thighs, 'I- uhm. . .' he shook his head, completley lost in thought when a particularly chilly breeze blew by. He shuddered, apparently noticing the cold for the first time, which managed to break him out of his trance and making him pay attention to my own shivers. Noting the goosebumps lining my arms and collarbones. He met my gaze again, hestitating slightly before moving out of the way 'Its freezing, please do come in.' He said, smiling cheapishly. 'Thank you.' I whispered as I passed him, intentionally brushing against his arm and hoping that he would catch a whiff of my perfume.

He closed the door behind us and made his way to the kitchen, 'Tea?' He asked.

'Yes please.' I answered and he smiled to himself, pleased with my manners. He gestured to the armchair in the middle of the room, 'Please, sit.' He urged me, then put a kettle of water on. I nodded and sat down, crossing my legs.

We waited on our opposite ends of the room, an akward silence settling over us. Finally though, the wistle of the kettle rang through the rectory and he made us two cups and sat down on the sofa opposite me. He handed me my cup and our fingers brushed as I took it, our eyes met, lingering on eachother. But he cleared his throat and looked away, 'So what brings you here?' He questioned.

I rested the cup in my lap as I tried to come up with an appropriate answer. 'We havent peoperly met, I suppose. . I simply wished to get to know you a bit better.' I said shyly.

He smiled, 'Well ofcourse, thats reasonable enough. Did you have any specific questions in mind?' He asked, sipping his tea.

I blanked completley, what was my plan here? 'I- No, not really. Uhm.' I stumbled ahead blindley.

He chuckled, 'Youre never this nervous in confessional are you.'

My face lit up in shame, averting my faze from him 'Well father, I suppose it gets easier in the dark.' I said, sipping my tea nervously.

He chuckled, 'I suppouse it would yes.'

I nodded gravely, looking back at him and found that his eyes had drifted to my body. It took me by surpise, but pleased me grately, 'Father?' I asked, trying to get his attention.

'Mmhm?' He hummed distantly, not taking his eyes off of me. Perhaps I wasnt so far off in coming here after all, my tights and skirt seemed to be working. Gaining some confidence, I uncrossed my legs and his gaze followed them intently. God, all he needed to was look at me and I was his, completley and utterly. In a sudden surge of brazenness, I let the cup rest in my lap again, clutched in my hands. Then spread my legs wider and slid the cup between my thighs, still in my grip, so that the view of my panties was blocked by that alone.

His bresthing stuttered, a made a sound that was barely a gasp. He rubbed his hands over his face and combed them through his hair in an effort to collect himself. But it did not work, he felt himself being affect by you, in the same way he was everytime he saw you. Which Is why he had to run off, why he had to keep his distance from you.

He sank further into the sofa, liftning his lap to adjust his position and then sat back down. I practically drooled at the sight, a tingling sensation pulsing through my core. I had to close my eyes for a few seconds, making an effort to think straight, at least until the feeling had calmed down and I could talk freely again. I moved my gaze back onto him and our eyes met, communicating with eachother, exchaning desires we could never say aloud.

Both a bit distracted by eachother, I decided to take the bull by its horns, 'Listen, father. I-' I began, but he shut me down instantly.

'Dont-' he said, holding his hand out to stop me, 'I know. . . I know.'

My mouth fell open in shock and I scrambled for an excuse, but I could not find the words. Shame tainting my tounge. 'Ive tried to stay away, but youre persistent. And I told myself that you must be a trial from god, tempting me, testing my faith.' he said, sitting up straighter and looking into my eyes.

'A trial that I will undoubtedly fail.' he confessed. Relief surged through me, he did want me. I reached out to lay a hand on his knee, but he jumped up, walking backward until he hit the kitchen counter. He leaned against it and crossed his arms, ensuring that they could not reach for me. He was fighting his urges, his own body was betraying him. I stood up, walking around to sofa to meet him, but he shook his head 'No, NO!' he shouted, making flinch in response to his sudden outburst.

'Im sorry, but this- this cannot happen.' He gestured between us, 'Whatever this is.' he sighed desperately and I stopped in my tracks, because I knew he was right. But he was just meters away from me, he was in my vecinity. Free to do with me however he pleased, if he pleased.

I whined at the thought, beacuse it could never happen. I grabbed the back of the sofa and bent down to rest my forehead against it, in a desperate attempt to collect my thoughts. A quiet complain reverberated through my body, "Why did it have to be a priest?" I bashed myself, a whine escaping me as I shook my head slowly. I slid forward, resting my elbows on the sofa so that my hands were free to hide my face. If only I could turn invisible, just disappear. But I was too painfully aware of his looming prescence to escape the moment, he kept a safe distance, occupied with battling his own thoughts.

I burned hot, terribly hot, my face ablaze from the shame of my indecent thoughts and actions, in stark contrast to my body which was only lubricated by them. Every single nerve-ending was tingling in reaction of what I craved.

I was trying, but failing very badly to calm myself, when there was movement in my peripheral, it happened so quickly that I was sure I had imagined it. But it was too late either way, because he had appeared behind me. All I noticed was a small gush of air and then he was pushed up against me, hips to ass and I involuntairily froze.

A shuddering gasp came form behind me as he lrt go of his restrictipns and his hands made contact with my skin, one hand moved to hold my hip while the other explored the dip of my lower back, testing its limits. He rubbed a few slow cicles with his thumb onto my skin, seamingly mesmerized by the goosebumps that rose. He stopped, for only a moment and then flattened his hand against the small of my back. He pushed downward with his palm and as if he'd found a hidden button, my back arched, and my breathing faltered. It was as if god himself had touched me and I had to bite my cheek to stop from moaning.

A low intake of breath could be heard from behind me, as if astonished by what he could accomplish. And as he kept the hand on my lower back pushed against me, he strengthened his grip on my hip and pulled me closer to him. When completley flush, I felt him again. But this time, there was an evident hardness in his jeans and I moaned reflexively, I couldnt help myself. How could I be excpected to? The priest of Crockett Island himself was hard, for me. How I did not scream and beg for him to tear me apart right there is beyond me.

He hissed in response to the friction that the thin fabric of my dress created against the rough fabric of his tight jeans. I tried griding against him with what little movement his hold allowed me, which earned me a displeased grunt and smack on the ass in punishment. I had to cover my mouth as another moan threatened to escape me.

Visions of everything I've dreamed of him to do to me flashed through my mind, things I've only ever imagined while touching myself. My entire skin was on fire as I tried to collect myself, scarcly succeding. I could only manage a single word.

'Father?' whispering it quietly, I turned my head a sliver, as far as I dared. It was enough to make out his disheveld state, chest heaving from supressing his heavy breathing, his usually perfect hair fallen in stressed strands over his forehead, his shirtsleeves carelessly folded and rolled up, showing his forearms. Such simple things drove me absolutley feral, I had to restrain myself from shaking in anticipation of his next move, barely daring to move in fear of him retracting from me.

But he never moved and everything was quiet apart from his shuddering breaths, a result of him fighting his most carnal desires. I wanted to touch him, to caress his beautiful face, to feel his skin under my fingers, and although I loved the shallow feeling my impact had on him, I wanted it deeper. So despite my better judgement, I straigthened my arms and moved to stand up and turn to him. But he quickly stopped me, grabbing a fistful of my hair and thrust my body forward into the sofa, my hips colliding with the back of it as he shoved my face into the pillows, cushioning the force of it.

He hadnt wanted me to see him like that, as if I saw him it would all become real. His desires, his unholy thoughts, his betrayal of god. But I did not care, I had crossed that point a long time ago.

'Father, please.' I begged, voice muffled by the pillows. And there was a slow realisation in his movements as he loosened his grip on me and stepped back. Confusion crowded my already full mind, as he began rubbing the back of his head in distress, turmoil brewed inside of him.

'Im so sorry' he whispered. Oh. . . Poor father, he mustve thought I was begging him to stop. 'Please forgive me, I dont know what came over me. I would never want to hurt you, please know that.' he rambeled, meeting my eyes, begging for for my forgiveness.

I stood up, shaking my head in dissmissal as I made my way to the light switch, turning it off, darkness enveloping us. I searched for soothing words to reassure him, 'You could never hurt me father, im yours.' I said and made my way through the darkness to him, trying to locate him from memory, I reached out blindley in an effort to avoid colliding with something but he met me half way, seeing my struggle.

I did not question it as he laced his fingers with mine and led them to his chest, making my heart skip a beat. I slowly traced my hands upward until I felt his face, enjoying everything my working senses had to offer me. His scent and the feeling of his soft shirt and skin. I placed my hands on either side of his face, cradeling him 'Take me now, in the dark.' I said carefully and stod on my tiptoes.

I leaning into him and as he did not retreat, I kissed him once, tenderly. 'Nobody but us will know' I whispered against his lips, then moved to kiss his jaw, feeling him relax under my touch.

'We will repent in the morning' I assured him and then quated myself, '"It gets easier in the dark"' I found his hands, and moved them to my breasts 'Take me now.'

This time, father Paul did not hesitate. He squeezed my breasts as he met my lips forcefully, kissing and biting me like a starved man. One of his hans dove behind my back, while the other found purchase under my ass. He hoisted me up into his arms in one quick motion, I gasped, surpised by his strength.

He walked me to the armchair, setting me down in it and kneeling in fornt of me. He spread my legs with his strong hands, and laid them on each thigh, squeezing hard. His hands slid up my thighs until they met the hem of my dress. He met my eyes, asking for reassurance and I nodded enthusiatically, giving it to him. He continued moving his hands upward, the dress catching on his wrists and follows his movements. He leaned closer, kissing a trail along the inside of my thigh until he came to my core. He ripped my thights open and moved my pantied to the side, and as he already had me go-ahead, he dove right in. I gasped as he made contact with my core, his tounge thrusting inside of me. Tasting my very being, he moved one of his hands to my clit, attacking it feverishly as the other stayed squeezing the soft flesh of my thigh. He was feral, and I loved it. He hummed as he ate me out, absolutley loving every second of it. My moans became needy and high pitched as I grabbed his hair to shove closer, he did not protest. I came hard and fast, closing my eyes as white light blinded my vision, making me dizzy. As I opened my eyes again the room was spinning, and the father sat proud infront of me grinning. 'Youre doing so good, my girl.' He said and rose up to kiss me, I could only manage a smile. To lost in pleasure to do anything else.

He picked me up and walked me to the sofa, laying me down on top of it and puttin almost all of his weight on me. He rested his forearm close to my head, letting it support his weight and tangling his hand in my hair, grabbing it and gently pulling my head to the side. While the other hand traced down my shoulder and lowered the strap of my dress, to gain easier access to my breast, then kneading it greadily. His lips moved from my mouth and kissed their way down to my neck, sucking and licking at that tender spot above my collarbone. I moaned reflexively, which only spurred him on further. His hips were moving against mine, enthusiastically and rythmically with the rest of his body. Our closeness made his clothed erection rubb against my core perfectly. I moved my legs to stradle him, tightening the grip and bringing him even closer to me, then rutting my hips against him. The friction was delicious and that paired with the fathers delerious assault on my neck, his breath hot against my skin and his moans vibrating through me, had me close to coming undone right then and there.

My hands had found their way to his back, scratching and pulling at the fabric, but it wasnt enough. I moved my hands to unbutton his shirt, but struggled due to our position. I grew tired and greedy from not succeeding, so I removed his colar and tore his shirt open, yanking it down his shoulders, but did not manage to get it further. Displeased about ruining his shirt, he bit me, once, hard enough to draw blood. I gasped and he stopped, removing his hand from my breast and slid it to my neck, coating his fingers in my blood. Stunned silence had settled over us, apart form our unanimous labored breathing. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting my blood and it was like he became a whole other person. If lust had not driven him before, it did now. I found it strange, but was to mesmerized by the moment to question it. He stood up, resting one knee on the sofa between my legs and began unbuckling his belt. I bit my lip from anticipation, the sight driving me mad, he looked positively devine. 'Have you done this before?' He asked me, I nodded my head in response, 'Have you, father?' He did not answer, his eyes were just drinking me in.

'Touch yourself.' He ordered, and I wasted no time. I moved my hands down my body, lifting the skirt of my dress with one hand and shoving the other down my panties, sliding it inside me to wet it then circling my clit in slow deliberate motions.

'Oh. . . ' he shook his head, 'Good girl' he praised in a shallow whisper, he looked at me like I was no longer a test from god, but a gift. He moaned as I touched myself, surely I was a sight in itself, my breast out, the skirt shoved up over my thighs and hips and my chest heaving from breathing heavily as he was towering over me. His tussled hair and shirt pulled down beneath his shoulders, exposing his chest and collarbones, his veiny hands working his belt. I closed my eyes as I felt myself coming close, and the sound of him drove me further. The belt buckle clanging, a zipper opening and the rustling fabric of clothes falling to the floor was erotic in a way I never could have suspected. White dots were specking the darkness of my eyelids, and a spring was tightening deep in my stomache. My breathing became frantic as I envisioned the father inside of me. I was a second away, when he snatched my hand out of my panties and I whined in frustration, the specks darkened and I felt moving around me.

I opened my eyes and he was below me, stark naked, holding my hand to his face and licking my slickness from my fingers much like he had done with my blood. 'Beautiful angel, you taste divine.' He sighed.

I moved the hand he was holding the caress his face 'Please father, I cannot wait any longer'. And he odded, sliding his hands under me and lifting my hips to pull my dress upward, once he'd done that I sat up to help him pull the dress over my head. He then lowered himself on top of me, pushing me back into the sofa and resuming his previous position.

'Im yours, only yours father.' I whispered and he kissed me tenderly as his hand traced down my body, feeling every curve on the waw down and pulled my panties to the side. He lined himself up with my entrance, teasing my opening by sliding himself through my folds. My breath caught, 'Please, please, please.' I whined desperstley, begging seemed to be the only thing I was capable of around him.

He suddenly slid inside and we gasped in unisome, our eyes met and we stayed like that for a while. No one moved, no one talked, we just admired eachother silently while he let me adjust to his size. He raised his eyebrows, as if asking for consent and I nodded eagerly, pecking him on the lips. He slid out of me completley, confusing me terribly and I desperatly clung my arms around his shoulders, burrying my hands in his hair to make him stay. But he only chuckled in response and kissed my arm lovingly, then slammed back into me. Setting a brutal pace, almost knocking the air out of my lungs.

I could not tell whos moans belonged to who, but amidst the frenzy he gave me a few short kisses on the lips in reassurance, then nuzzled his nose against my cheek and moved his forehead to the crook of my neck, whispering against my skin 'Youre doing so good, sweet girl.' His sweet words were a stark contrast to his hard, fast thrusts.

A few hours ago I was nervously getting ready for mass, dressing nicely in hope of the new priests approval, and now hes ballsdeep inside me.

He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it in fast circles. I covered my mouth with one hand as a scream threatened to escape me, while the other tore into his back, leaving long red scratch marks and he hissed into my neck. Enjoying every part of the pain and pleasure mixing with eachother.

He straigthened his arm to sit back anf change position, but never relenting his pace. He raised my hips onto his thighs, placing one hand on my waist in a grip that will be leaving bruises on my skin, and pushing the other hand down on my abdomen while still circling my clit with his thumb. His thrusts hit that spot inside me that made my toes curl and it all became quite overwhelming, about to push me over the edge.

'Im- Im close' I managed inbetween breaths and he hummed, nodding as his own movements became irregular. I grabbed onto the cushions for dear life as I was tipping over the edge, electricity sparked between us, and all of a sudden I felt thunder tearing through me and he collappsed on top of me. His thrusts slowed down, allowing me to ride through my high.

'Good girl' he sighed and kissed my forehead as his ruts came to a stop and pride surged thorugh me.nHe stayed inside me, laying comfortably with me as oour breaths calmed together. I could feel his seamen sippering out of me, and I loved it. Because it was him.

'Will you stay with me tonight?' He asked.

'If you'll have me.' I answered, smiling as he kissed my lips.

[w2soneshots]

Oh shit -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: secret relationship.

summary: you and Harry get caught while trying to hide your relationship.

I've been with Harry for just over 2 months now, but no one knows. When I say no one I mean no one, not any of the boys, not Faith (my best friend and also the person who introduced me to Harry), even our families don't know. When we decided to get together we knew it was slightly risky, we didn't want to divide the group if it didn't work out. It's a complete secret, we've been sneaking around during parties and night outs, lying about where we were when we were actually staying at each other's apartment and there's also been times where we've almost been caught, snogging or being a little to touchy.

Today Faith asked me to come along with her and Olive to one of the sidemen shoots, so that she had someone to talk to and help her with Olive while they filmed. I've never been to one of their shoots before, Harry always told me he'd bring me along when everyone knew. We weren't planning on keeping our secret for so long but we just couldn't figure out how to tell everyone, it's also quite fun sneaking around, it kinda makes you feel like a teenager again.

I got dressed into some jeans, a white t-shirt, dark blue hoodie and my converse. I left my hair how it was and applied a little bit of makeup. Once I was finished I left. Once I arrived outside of the studio that they are filming in today, I looked down at my phone and saw a message from Harry: "I'm the only one here, come inside!!" I looked up to see him standing just outside of the building. I smiled and quickly got out of the car.

"Hi." I said with a smile as I walked up to him. His lips spread into a small smile "Hey, how are you?" He asked. "I talked to you this morning." I said with a slight chuckle, referring to our phone conversation earlier while I did my makeup. He pulled me into him and pecked my lips. "Harry!" I said sternly then pulled away "someone might see us!" I said looking around the car park. When I made sure the coast was clear I looked back at him, he had a huge smirk on his face. I shook my head and playfully slapped his chest.

Josh turned up soon after followed by everyone else, Ethan, Faith and Olive being last to arrive due to a toddler meltdown. I sat next to Faith while Olive sat asleep on my lap "you have the magic touch." she said looking down at her daughter. I laughed slightly "she's so cute!" I said quietly. "She's all cute when she's asleep but as soon as she wakes up she turns into a little gremlin." she stated. I laughed "I know, I've seen it first hand." I said referring to the time I looked after her for an afternoon so Ethan and Faith could film a video, and she was a little menace, but she's to adorable to get annoyed at.

The boys finished filming almost an hour and a half later. I quickly popped to the toilets before everyone left. But before I could get there I felt two hands on my waist, pulling me back slightly. I turned quickly, knowing exactly whose big hands those were. Without a word he smashed our lips together. "gosh so confident today." I said as we caught our breath's quickly. He smirked "wanna come mine later?" He asked. I smiled "you know it." and smashed our lips back together. When I heard a gasp. "Oh shit" I thought. I quickly separated myself from Harry and looked down the hallway to see JJ standing there with a shocked look on his face. My eyes widened, as did Harry's when he realised the situation.

I looked to Harry "it's time to tell them." I said softly. He nodded and we looked back to JJ. "Are you too?" He said pointing at each of us quickly. We both nodded and he gasped once again "omg!" He said running towards us and pulling us into a joint hug. The three of us walked back into the green room. "We have something we wanna tell you." Harry started. Everyone looked up confused as we sat down. JJ looked as if he was about to burst with excitement. "Me and Harry have been... seeing each other for a while now." I said. Each one of their eyes widened. "No, fucking way!" Ethan shouted, jumping from his seat. "How long?" Faith asked. "Two months." Harry replied. "Two months?!" Tobi exclaimed. I nodded "sorry, we couldn't find the right time to tell you." I shrugged. They all quickly began celebrating.

"Wait why are you telling us now?" Simon asked after everyone calmed down. "I caught them snogging in the hallway!" JJ said with a chuckle. The entire room erupted into laughter and I shared a slightly embarrassed look with Harry. I actually feel relief knowing everyone now knows, it was fun for a while but I feel like we can properly start our relationship now.

[toboldlygohome]

Oblivious

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: You are oblivious to all of Leonard's attempts to flirt and all of your friends think it's hilarious.

Character(s): Leonard "Bones" McCoy, James "Jim" Kirk, Spock, Nyota Uhura, Pavel Chekov, Hikaru Sulu

Warning(s): Slightly cringe attempts at flirting, Painfully oblivious reader, Stephen King references

Leonard was finally ready to move on. The divorce had left him with wounds he wasn't sure he could heal from. He hadn't been interested in dating for years afterward. But for the first time since then, someone had caught his attention.

You were the new head of Archaeology aboard the enterprise. You had been transferred from the USS Celine to assist in the 5 year mission. To say you were new wouldn't be exactly correct, you had been on board for about 6 months already. You had taken to the position well and were already good friends with everyone in your unit, as well as all of the bridge and command personnel.

Leonard knew he liked you the moment you met. You had a firm handshake, a killer smile, and when Captain Kirk asked if you were single, you told him it wasn't his business. Jim's stunned face when you shook his hand and walked away was priceless.

Of course there were far more reasons to admire you other than your ability to take the captain down a peg. You were incredible at your job, finding ancient ruins in the most unlikely of places. You were like a dog when it came to fossils, sniffing them out almost as soon as you landed on alien soil. You were smart and always ready to answer questions. You were also highly tolerant of people's mistakes, something that was slowly rubbing off on him. When you were around, Leonard found he had more patience for stupidity and everyone else noticed as well.

You were kind, you were a great listener, you were hilarious, you were dependable, considerate, honest, cheerful, and you could always be counted upon for some witty banter. Not to mention you were the most beautiful person Bones had ever seen in his life.

That's not to say you didn't have your downfalls too, everyone does after all. You were self deprecating, a little easily distracted, and of course you were the most painfully oblivious person in the universe.

~~~

It all started one morning at breakfast. You were sitting in the cafeteria with Jim, Nyota, and Spock.

Leonard had made his decision the previous night while drinking with Jim. Bones wanted to pursue a relationship with you, but he wasn't going to just tell you point blank. He wanted to gauge your interest before taking that leap of faith.

"Mornin'" Leonard said as he sat down beside you. "Jim, you look terrible."

Jim, who was still hung over from the night before, frowned at the doctor. "Gee, thanks. I had no idea."

"You're welcome. Now Y/N on the other hand, you look great this morning," Bones smirked. Jim and Nyota immediately perked up, clearly not expecting him to be so forward (especially not this early in the morning.)

"Thanks Doc," You smiled at him and returned your attention to your oatmeal.

"What's your secret?" Asked Bones upon deciding that your smile was a good sign.

"My secret?" You raised an eyebrow.

"To looking so good every morning," he clarified. Nyota and Jim looked at each other incredulously.

"Ummmm," You thought out loud. "Get good sleep, take your vitamins, and don't get wasted at two in the morning." You patted Jim's shoulder and stood up with your empty bowl. "I better get to the lab, see you guys later!" You grinned.

Everyone bid you a good morning before gawking at Leonard, amusement etched on their faces. "What's your secret? Did you seriously ask 'what's your secret?'"Jim cackled.

"Leonard, you seriously need to up your flirting game." Uhura barely stifled a giggle.

"I know it's been awhile doc but seriously, that was terrible! And I've heard Spock's attempts at flirting," Kirk snickered.

"It wasn't that bad, y'all are acting like I'm some cretin who stole their oatmeal and called it flirting. I called them attractive, get off my back." Leonard rolled his eyes.

"No, you said they looked good. That could be interpreted in, so many ways. As far as flirting goes, that was pretty pathetic." Nyota said.

"I would have to agree doctor, perhaps you could take instruction from the captain or even-" Spock started.

"Shut up and eat your breakfast," Leonard snapped, causing another fit of giggles around him.

Bones sat there, glaring into his eggs, trying to figure out where he went wrong. The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed that Uhura was right. You didn't realize he meant it in a romantic way. Maybe he was more out of practice than he thought. He was just going to have to give it another shot. Practice makes perfect after all.

~~~

The next day, Leonard tried a different approach. Coffee mug in hand, he made his way to your office only to find it empty. He looked all over the labs, nowhere to be seen. It wasn't until made it up to the bridge that he found you deep in a discussion about landing sites for an upcoming mission.

Your head perked up when you saw the doctor come in from the turbolift. "Ahoy, McCoy! We missed you at breakfast this morning." you smiled as he came to stand beside you.

"Sorry darlin', had some gamma shift engineers to patch up." Bones casually passed the mug over to you. "Made you some coffee."

"Really? for me?" You peered into the cup and beamed, "thank you doctor, it's just how I like it!" Jim gave Leonard a subtle thumbs up while you sipped your drink.

Leonard had a good feeling this time. You were happy with the gesture and even Kirk seemed impressed. It felt like a good first step, until-

"First Chekov brings me a croissant, then McCoy brings me a coffee. I'm so lucky to have such great friends. Thank you guys!" You smiled at the two men.

"You are very welcome!" Pavel grinned.

Leonard's mood plummeted almost instantly. While he was glad you got to enjoy a croissant and a coffee, Chekov's untimely generosity made his romantic gesture seem more like a friendly one. He was going to have to go back to the drawing board.

You turned to the captain, cradling your warm cup in your hand. "Is there anything else you need of me Captain?"

"No Commander, I believe you've answered all my questions," Jim said.

"Wonderful! If anyone needs me, I'll be in the lab trying to decode some ancient texts," you took another sip of your coffee before strolling back to the turbolift.

Once you were out of sight, Jim patted Leonard on the arm. Sulu and Chekov were trying their damnedest not to laugh, and failing miserably of course.

Leonard furrowed his brows at the two of them before looking back at Jim's cheeky grin.

"You told them?" Leonard scowled.

"Told them what?" Jim laughed.

"About..." Leonard rolled his eyes and gestured to the turbolift.

"The only ones I told were Uhura and Spock," Jim assured.

"He didn't need to tell us anything, It's written all over your face Dr. McCoy," Sulu said.

"Yes, you get all red in the cheeks and you have this look in your eyes like you've seen the sun for the first time. It is very obvious you are vying for the Commander's attention," Chekov agreed.

"If I'm so obvious, why isn't Y/N picking up on it?" Leonard crossed his arms.

"Maybe you need a new approach, try... I don't know, making up new excuses to spend time with them. Or maybe you could try touching them," Jim suggested.

"Touching them?"

"Yeah, nothing inappropriate or anything. Just little things, like pats on the back, nudging their shoulder. Stuff like that. Might show Y/N you're interested without having to use the words, you know?"

"I don't know Jim..."

"Look, you're a doctor right?"

"I hope that'd be pretty goddamned obvious by now," Leonard glowered and put his hands on his hips.

"And as a doctor, you have a pretty good gauge on if someone's uncomfortable right?" Jim asked, "just try it and if you get the sense they're uncomfortable, just stop doing it. Easy as that."

"Why do I get the feeling it's not going to be as 'easy as that?'" The doctor shook his head.

"Because you are an incorrigible pessimist, Bones." Jim patted his shoulder.

"I'm done here, some of us actually have work to do," Leonard grumbled and trudged to the turbolift.

"All work and no play makes McCoy a dull boy," Kirk beamed.

"Quote Stephen King to me one more time. See what happens." Bones said as the doors closed. Alone in the elevator, he allowed himself to think about where to go from here. Perhaps Jim's ideas weren't so terrible. He rather liked the idea of spending more time with you. He usually talked with you during mealtimes and meetings, but not much outside of that. The touching is what was making him nervous.

He came into contact with people all the time, being a doctor was a very hands-on profession. He just didn't have Jim's level of confidence anymore. It felt ridiculous, he could stitch a man's thumb back to his hand and deliver an infant in the middle of a battle, but he couldn't touch your shoulder? Maybe he'd just skip that step for now. Quality time, that seemed like as good of a direction as any.

~~~

He continued bringing you coffee every day, It gave him more time to get to know you and Leonard was falling harder by the minute. He hadn't really looked forward to anything in a long time, but he looked forward to your coffee talks. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough anymore. The chats weren't long enough and you still weren't catching on to his feelings.

It had been a particularly stressful day, it felt like everyone needed something from him and he was in desperate need of a break. The moment things got quiet in the medbay, Leonard snuck away and his feet carried him to the archaeology labs.

It was quiet inside. A few ensigns were at work in their stations, putting together fossilized bones and carbon-dating old tools. Leonard found you in the back of the lab where you were busy decoding some old scrolls. Learning to understand a lost language was no easy task; Leonard couldn't fathom the amount of reading it would take to accomplish such a thing. Still, you seemed ready to take on anything the Captain dished out.

"Commander, I see you're hard at work," Bones smiled and came to stand beside you.

"I see you're not!" You joked and looked up at him from your seat. "What brings you to my neck of the woods doctor? Did I forget about an appointment?"

"Not at all, I was just taking a break and wanted to see how you were doing," he said, hoping you would understand what he was trying to say: that he was thinking of you and wanted to see you out of everyone else on the Enterprise.

"Well I'm really glad you're here Len, because I've just made a breakthrough!" You beamed. "Take a look at this," you motioned for him to look closer.

Leonard leaned in to look at your scroll. "So, you know how I found these papers in a box under the Mofeli excavation right?"

"Mhm, you insisted there must be a basement and you found one," Bones hummed.

"I originally thought the site was a business, that these papers must be some sort of documentation. You know, like land deeds, proof of insurance, perhaps even money. Basically stuff you would usually keep in a lock box, but these aren't ledgers or inventory slips or anything like that at all."

"What are they?" He turned to look at you.

You met his gaze and gave him a grin that could melt the ice caps and outshine Sirius. "They're love letters," you said and his heart hammered his chest painfully. He was only just now realizing how close he was to you. How his hand was resting on your back, how his face was mere inches from yours.

"See, if you look here you'll find this symbol all over the place in these letters. It's the symbol meaning love or lover. I've completed the translation on this one right here." You returned your attention to the paper. Leonard swallowed and glanced at the sheet, trying his damnedest not to stare like some creep.

"What, um... what does it say?" He cleared his throat.

"It says, and I'm paraphrasing here, 'My dearest love, I find words elude me. My heart blossoms for you under the light of the sun and keeps me warm when the light fades. I find not the courage to speak, but many a whim to write. I desire your embrace. I seek your song. I crave your hand. I covet your blazing eyes. One day I-' This part is all faded so I can't make it out, but the last thing it says here at the bottom is 'May our hearts and bodies be intertwined for eternity, and our souls may sing together as one.' Then there's what I assume to be a name at the bottom, but I'm not sure how to pronounce it."

"It all sounds a little sappy to me," Leonard joked in a slightly strained voice. This whole thing with the closeness and the touching and the letter was really affecting him. If you noticed his struggle, you gave no indication, In fact, you seemed perfectly at ease being this close to him.

"Hey, a little sap never hurt anybody," you elbowed him lightly in the side.

"Croakus sap can."

"Touché"

Leonard chucked softly and lightly patted your back before crossing his arms casually over his chest Your easy conversation was already helping him relax again. "so, Commander, you've been down here in your lab for an awfully long time. What do you say we go for a walk to the observation lounge?"

"Sorry doctor, I would but somebody's got to make sure the ensigns don't blow the place up. That, and Spock wants me to finish three more translations by the end of my shift," you explained.

"Of course he does," Leonard huffed.

"But I'm free this evening if that works for you?" You tilted your head.

"Of course, absolutely." Leonard had no idea if that was going to work for him, but he was going to make it work.

"Great, I'll see you then," you said with a surprising amount of enthusiasm.

"See you then. Don't work too hard," he smiled and left you to your translating.

Bones was pleased with himself. He had managed to follow Jim's suggestions and they appeared to work. He'd even managed to secure a date with you later that evening...Well...he hadn't actually called it a date when he suggested it. No matter, Leonard would just clarify all that the next time he saw you!

~~~

He never got to make the distinction that your walk was intended to be a date. You had brought a friend with you. Leonard could feel the fear in your ensign companion's eyes. Bones was sure everyone on the goddamned ship knew what he was trying to do but you. It was still a nice night despite the unwanted guest. He learned a lot about where you grew up, your interests, and your favorite films and music. He learned your favorite flower was the iris, your first job was a librarian, he even learned you were in a band during your time at the academy.

The more he learned, the more he liked you. He wasn't even sure if liked was the right word anymore. You had quite a few things in common. Your favorite foods, you liked the same movies, and you enjoyed the same music. You asked him questions that got him really thinking. They were the sort of topics you don't realize you have an opinion on until you start talking about them. But what surprised him most of all was when you asked about his daughter. What sort of interests does she have? How is she doing in school? I wonder if she would like X,Y, and Z. He was always hesitant to talk about Joanna or his ex, but it felt easier with you. Like that wound he had been carrying for so long was finally closing.

Your friendship progressed beautifully, but he felt like you were growing more and more blind to his advances. He had seen you turn plenty of people down before. If you weren't interested in someone, you made it abundantly clear. But you had yet to do the same with Bones. It wasn't just him: Jim, Nyota, Pavel, Scotty, Hikaru, and pretty much everyone else who knew you were puzzled as well. Even Spock couldn't understand how you were so incognizant. It was funny for them at first. They would laugh at every compliment you didn't register, every smile you didn't realize had meaning, every coffee, every walk to the deck, every deep conversation, every breath of relief when you come back from a mission. He was even so bold as to tell you in no uncertain terms that he'd do anything to make you smile.

The laughter turned into looks of pity. Leonard was about ready to give up. Maybe you weren't interested and you just wanted to let him down easy, you were good friends after all. Bones sat at the bar as Jim poured him another glass. Normally he was the one playing bartender, but Jim insisted he take over.

"I gotta say Bones, I really hate seeing you like this." Jim poured himself a drink too. "How did lunch go?"

"I told them they have beautiful eyes." Leonard sighed and shook his head.

"And?" The Captain probed.

"They said 'if only they worked as well as they look,'" Bones groaned.

"Ah..." Jim stared into his drink. He tried to put himself into Leonard's shoes. What would he do if he were in this situation?

"I don't know what I'm doing wrong..." McCoy muttered.

"You aren't doing anything wrong, Y/N just-" Jim started.

"It's something I'm doing, it has to be. Maybe this is a mistake."

"No, Bones it's not a mistake. That couldn't be farther from the truth."

"And how would you know? It's not like you have any problems finding dates," Leonard rolled his eyes.

"Seems like Y/N's not the only one who's oblivious," Kirk chuckled.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes Jim." Leonard took a sip of his whiskey and ran a hand over his face.

"Believe me Bones, I wish it were a joke. There's just no way the two most unaware people are head over heels for each other. I'm waiting for the punch line" James smirked.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Bones scowled.

"Look, just... we have shore leave coming up in a few weeks. Ask them on a date. Like really ask them. Be frank, be clear, make sure there is no way Y/N can misunderstand you. Trust me," Jim squeezed Leonard's shoulder.

"Fine. But if this goes south, you owe me as many drinks as it takes to forget this whole debacle." The doctor downed the last of his glass.

"Bones if this goes south, I'll eat my hat."

"You don't have a hat."

"Point still stands. It'll work, you just have to have a little faith. And lucky for you, I have enough faith for the both of us." Jim winked.

Leonard wished he had Jim's enthusiasm. Officious little prick, he thought to himself...Dammit, now I'm quoting Stephen King.

~~~

Shore leave was just around the corner and Leonard was no closer to his goal of asking you on a date. Everyone was running around, trying to prepare the ship for inspection, he still had his normal duties to attend to, neither of you had time for coffee all week, Spock was being especially nitpicky about protocol, and he was anxious about what you'd say when he eventually got around to asking the million dollar question.

Yeah, Leonard was about ready to lose his marbles.

He was prepping the supply storage units, when Spock strolled in for the tenth time that day.

"Dr. McCoy," Spock greeted, startling Bones to the point that he nearly dropped his box of gauze.

"My god man, what the hell do you need this time?" Leonard implored, "don't you have anything better to do with your day than pester me?"

"Indeed I do, doctor" Spock replied.

Leonard huffed and sat down his box, "then what is it, did you miss my face or something?"

"I saw your face only moments ago, I have no need to miss-"

"It was a joke Spock, what do you want?" Leonard pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I came to inform you that I saw Commander Y/L/N coming in this direction." Spock stated.

Leonard raised an eyebrow, "and?"

"It is my understanding you are anxious to speak with them regarding your-" Spock started.

"Your understanding is correct, I just..." Leonard sighed and shook his head.

"Would it help if I told you the odds that they will say yes?" Spock asked.

"Never tell me the odds Spock," Leonard grumbled.

"Then I will simply say, good luck." Spock turned and left again, leaving Bones to decide if he was ready for this. He didn't have time for a decision, because there you were in the doorway with two mugs in your hands.

"Hey, stranger," You laughed. "Looks like I got here just in time, you look like you need some." You handed over the cup and Leonard took it gratefully.

"Thanks," Leonard offered you a smile and took a sip from his mug. It was just how he liked it, right down to the temperature. Together, they retreated to the safety of his office. Once inside, they fell into their usual conversation. He waited until things got quiet, then he decided to go for it.

"So, got any plans for shore leave?" Leonard asked, leaning back in his chair in an effort to appear more at ease.

"No, not really. Maybe I'll visit with a couple friends, catch up on sleep. How about you? got any exciting plans?" You leaned in, resting your chin on your hand.

"Not yet," he admitted. "But I'm hoping to make some."

"Oh? You got someone special in mind?" You hummed.

"Someone incredibly special, yeah." Leonard smiled. So far, so good.

"Oh, well I hope it goes well." You shifted awkwardly in your seat.

"Me too..." Leonard agreed. You both didn't speak for a moment, the distant hum of the warp core did little to tame the silence.

"Hey Y/N... I was thinking maybe we could go to that restaurant you like, you know the one with the really good Chicken Parmesan you're always talking about." He mused, "what do you think?"

"I, um... I think they'd like it" The smile you gave him looked...sad?

"What are you talking about? Who'd like it?" Leonard couldn't possibly be more confused.

"Your special someone?" It was your turn to look confused.

You've got to be kidding me

"I'm talking about you darlin', do you want to go to that restaurant with me, just us, nobody else. You and me. Together." Leonard clarified, meeting your gaze.

You looked positively flabbergasted. He couldn't possibly mean what he was saying, right? There was no way Leonard wanted to... I mean, he was way too good for you! You had been trying for months to get his attention, to no avail. This must be a dream. You're going to wake up any minute.

"Darlin'?"

"I, uh...what?" You blinked out of your daze.

"Dammit Y/N, I'm trying to ask you out on a date!" Bones ran a hand through his hair, exasperation evident in his tone.

"Really? Me?" You asked hopefully.

"Yes!" He replied "Look, it's okay if you don't w-" You suddenly burst into laughter and all the words died on his lips. "What's so funny?"

"Oh, I'm sorry! It's just-" You giggled, "I actually came here to do the same thing..." You said sheepishly as you dug into your pocket "I, um... I got us tickets to see your favorite band. Figured if you said no, you could just take Jim instead." You handed the tickets over to him.

Leonard stared at the tickets in his hand, shock written all over his face. "Sweetheart, are you telling me we've both been dancing around each other for months, when we could have been doing stuff like this the whole time?"

"Seems that way, yes."

Leonard smiled and shook his head. "We're not very good at this, are we?"

"Not at all," You laughed. "Ahoy McCoy? What was I thinking?"

"Points for creativity darlin'," Bones chuckled. He almost couldn't believe things had turned out so perfectly. But in his experience, coincidence didn't exist. "Jim knew, didn't he?"

"He was actually the one who pushed me to come here," you admitted.

"Same. The bastard told me you'd say yes... Guess this was one of the few times I should have trusted him." Leonard concurred.

"So... What now, doctor?" You leaned a little closer. How had he never noticed your eyes before. He knew they were beautiful of course, but the way they were looking at him now made him weak in the knees. Had you always looked at him like that?

"Well, for now we're going to finish up our shifts, wouldn't want anyone to think we're slackers. But later, we're going to meet at the recreation room for a drink, possibly a game of darts. Then we'll see where the night takes us," McCoy smirked.

"How romantic, I can hardly wait for you to sweep me off my feet, they're killing me from all this running around, you know?~" You mused, resting your chin on your palm.

"Now you listen here darlin'. I'm a doctor, not a broom." Bones couldn't hide his amusement when you rolled your eyes at him.

"Well, what if I sweep you off your feet then?"

"You'll have to be careful, you might drop me and we could end up tangled in a whole mess of limbs."

"Oh, I'm counting on it.~" You teased.

Leonard swallowed hard and hid his bashfulness with a sip of his coffee, "Well in that case, sweep away."

You laughed again and McCoy was sure he had never heard a more beautiful sound in his life. He could see a future with you then. He wanted to sweep you off your feet, kiss you until you were breathless, share coffee with you early in the morning, and swap stories until late in the night. He wanted to introduce you to his daughter.

Baby steps.

"I hate to cut this short doctor, but I left the ensigns alone for too long, I'm worried there will be no lab to return to. I'll see you tonight?" You asked, fidgeting nervously with cuffs of your sleeves.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm not going to change my mind." Leonard smirked.

You blushed and smiled in relief, "good! Great!" You stood, grabbed your mug, and sauntered happily to the door. You paused just a moment and looked back at Bones sweetly. "See you later, handsome."

"See you later Y/N," replied Leonard. You gave him a cute little wave before hurrying back to the labs.

Once he was alone again in his office, Bones leaned back in his seat and admired the tickets on the desk. He almost couldn't believe how thoughtful you were, but this wouldn't be the first time you gave him an incredible gift. A couple months after you met, Bones had mentioned offhandedly that he missed a particular brand of whiskey from Earth. Despite being light years away, you managed to find some and give it to him. It wasn't even a special occasion, you got it just to make him happy. Leonard supposed he should have realized your feelings for him right then and there. Damn. He really was oblivious.

McCoy wanted to give you something tonight- no, he needed to give you something tonight. Something sweet, something romantic, something that says: 'you're special to me and I need to show it to you because I'm terrible with words'. But where was he going to find something like that on a starship? The botany labs. Flowers make for a great gift on a first date! Maybe if he was lucky, they would have irises growing down there. So what if bouquets are a little sappy?

A little sap never hurt anybody after all.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Good evening Dear Reader, it's been awhile, hasn't it? I've missed you so much! Don't worry darling, I don't return empty handed ;)

Now Presenting...

Starring: Ryomen Sukuna, in a modern day curse-less AU Summary: After being left at the alter by your less than magnificent fiance, you only have one thing on your mind: revenge sex. And who better to help you out than the man your ex hates the most.

Warning: This fic contains a gratuitous amount of smut, both praise and degradation, unprotected sex, face fucking, finger fucking, multiple orgasms, and is all wrapped up in a nice cream-pie. viewer discretion is advised ;)

Okay, admittedly, you may have had this coming. Everyone and his mother warned you about Satoru Gojo. About his womanizing ways, his commitment issues, his demanding job. Still, none of that mattered to you. You were convinced that you could fix him! That love would pull through. He’d realize that you meant more to him than being a playboy, and he’d settle down for you. You knew in your heart that you would have your fairytale ending with him.

Yea well turns out your hearts a dirty fucking liar. The weight of that realization was crashing down hard on you as you nursed a vodka sweet tea at what was supposed to be the reception for your wedding. You secretly vowed to never pick up another romance novel ever again. There’s not many things in this world more mortifying than being left at the altar. Maybe somebody pulling an “I told you so” right after you got left at the altar? That could be just as bad.

“I told you so,” Nanami said as he sat next to you, tie already undone. The groan that escaped your throat was a little more raw than you intended as you dropped your head into your arms. It was official; this was the most humiliating day of your life. 

“Thanks Kento, that's actually exactly what I needed right now,” You muttered as you picked up your head long enough to finish your drink.

“Always happy to help.” He said, patting your back in what you were fairly confident was meant to be comforting. You sighed as you rubbed your face, not even caring if your makeup smudged anymore. You were sure at least your mascara was wrecked. 

“I just don’t understand what I did wrong,” You admitted, turning to face the partying crowd, dancing the night away as if this wasn’t the worst night of your life. At least it was all on fuck faces dime. “I was the perfect fiance! I was loving without being suffocating, I supported him in everything he fucking did, I was faithful, shit man, we fucked constantly, it was like-”

“I don’t need to know the details, thanks.” Nanami said, quickly cutting you off before you put any images in his mind. He shook his head to expel any that had slipped in. “It’s nothing you did Y/n,” He assured you, “Gojo is just not the type to commit to a coffee order, let alone a marriage.” You shook your head, not wanting to accept it.

“I just wish I could find a way to hurt him like how he hurt me.” You muttered. You scanned the faces dancing in the crowd. You were shocked to see how many of his friends were still there. Nanami made sense, at some point he became more your friend than Satorus. But Suguru? That one didn’t make any sense. Unless it was to report back to Satoru what you were do-

Oh.

Oh, he was definitely here to make sure you were a fucking mess. He was here to report back to Gojo that you were indeed destroyed and were never going to get over him. No, No absolutely not, you were not going to let him have that. 

“Y/n, are you listening?” Nanami asked. You absolutely were not. 

“Uh huh, yea,” You nodded, scanning the crowd for a body to get under, “I’ll be sure to start investing tomorrow-”

“Nope, not even close to what I was saying.” Nanami groaned, rolling his eyes. He recognized that look on your face. “What are you scheming Y/n?” It was then your eyes landed on the perfect target- I mean hookup. Ryomen Sukuna, nursing a drink in the back of the venue, watching the party the way a lion watches a herd of gazelles. You never fully understood Satoru’s friendship with him, but you completely understood why he got the invite. The two were less close college friends, and more bitter rivals patiently waiting for the other's downfall. The two constantly had to one up and outdo each other, and you had no doubt in your mind his invitation was just another way to try and show off.

“So, Nanami, You still talk to Ryomen, right?” You asked, ignoring whatever he was saying before.

“I don’t like that you’re asking me that right now.”

“Oh, don’t be like that. I just want to know if he’s sing-”

“No.” Nanami said firmly, looking at you with the same eyes a father gives a child that keeps drawing on the walls.

“No he’s taken or no you won’t tell me if he is or not?” you asked, taking out a compact from your bag to check your makeup. It actually wasn’t that bad! Shout out to waterproof makeup!

“No, I’m not going to watch you make mistake after mistake. Ryomen is bad news. You think Gojo was bad? Well he’s ten times worse.” Nanami warned, looking into the crowd to see if he could find Ryomen lurking in it. He didn’t even know he was here! And if anyone would be down to make a bad situation worse, it was him.

“How does my ass look in this dress?” You asked. Satoru had picked it out because it was “danceable” for you. It wasn’t something you would have chosen for yourself, but you still felt like you rocked it. 

“I’m not answering that question.” He sighed, rubbing his eyes in annoyance.

“You don’t have to, I know I look good.” You smiled and winked. The dress may not have been great on you, but it’s fine. Confidence is what's really attractive. You took a deep breath, then went to approach the unapproachable. Ryomen couldn’t have looked more disinterested if he tried, but the closer you got the more interesting he became. His black dress shirt hugged him just a little too tight, leaving very little to the imagination. He had his sleeves rolled up, tattoos on full display while he checked his watch. He looked up from it just in time to capture your eyes with his, intrigue and amusement igniting behind his scarlet irises. 

“Hi Ryomen,” You smiled. You had been working on a loose outline of a script as you made your way to him, but now that you were next to him that script was about as good as your marriage was. And well, considering your marriage never actually happened..

“Hi Y/n. I’m surprised to see you here, honestly.” Ryomen had never been one to beat around the bush. You noticed his eyes fall to your cleavage.Oh good, he was willing to play ball.

“Why are you surprised? It’s my party.” You smiled, resting next to him against the wall.

“I don’t know many people that would want to go to the reception after getting so publicly dumped.” He said. Ouch, ok that was uncalled for. You hoped the sting didn’t show on your face. If it did it didn’t phase him.

“Hey, the party was paid for,” You shrugged, “No use letting a perfectly good open bar go to waste, especially when I’m not paying for it.” You grinned. You had successfully earned yourself a smirk from Sukuna, and a point for the home team.

“I’ll drink to that,” He laughed, “Want me to grab you something?” The ball was in your court, quick, be clever! 

“A drink actually sounds great right now. How about a Sex on the Beach?” You smirked.

“Ooo, I don’t think they’re serving those. How about I give you a Screaming Orgasm instead?” He smirked back.

“Hmm, I don’t know, I may need a Leg Spreader before that.” You hummed, giggling for the first time all night. He nodded, 

“Got it, a Blowjob for me and a Leg Spreader for you. I’ll be right back.” he nodded, walking off. The thought of Ryomen trying to take a blowjob shot, hunched over the glass and trying to drink the liquid without using his hands, genuinely made you laugh a little. You found an empty table nearby to take up residence at, and contemplate if you really wanted to do this. Your relationship was in the gutter, there was no getting around that. Being left at the altar was the kind of blow you can’t just come back from. 

But you didn’t have to fuck his friends (enemy?). Doing this was most definitely an act of war. Whether you were actively together or not, Gojo was extremely territorial of you. You knew that was why Suguru was here; to make sure you didn’t jump into a rebound. If he found out you slept with Ryomen Sukuna of all people on your (almost) wedding night of all days, that would eat him alive from the inside out. There would be hell to pay for sure.

Good. You reminded yourself that you didn’t ask for this fight, but you would win it. You smiled as Ryomen returned with two drinks: a whiskey neat for him and a drink that looked more akin to chocolate milk with whip cream for you. 

“Gotta say; looking a bartender in the eye and asking for a ‘screaming orgasm’ will never not be funny.” He joked, handing you your drink and sitting across from you. 

“Yea, why are so many drinks named like that? It’s weird, right?” You asked, tilting your head in genuine confusion.

“All bartenders are secretly nymphomaniacs,” He said with enough confidence you were almost convinced that was a real requirement to make drinks. “You’d know that if you slept with more.” and he said that as if it was some moral failing on your part that you had not slept with an adequate number of bartenders. It made you laugh.

“Oh, my mistake you’re right. I’ll fix that right now,” You bluffed. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to the bar.

“Be my guest.” He offered, calling out the aforementioned bluff. 

“Oh, but that means I’d have to leave my guest alone, and that’s just bad hosting.” You faux pouted. He shrugged.

“Oh, I wouldn’t be alone for very long.” He smirked at you from behind his glass before taking a drink. You wanted to call him out on his bluff, but, you knew he wasn’t bluffing. Satoru had dragged you to enough social events with Sukuna to know that he rarely went home alone. You decided to go with a different strategy. 

“Well, what if I told you I had my sights set on a better prize for tonight?” You asked, batting your eyes and bringing your arms together to emphasize your chest. Sukuna gave a dark grin, seeing right through you.

“I’d say good choice,” he winked, “especially for what you’re trying to do.” Welp, you didn't have anything planned for that comment. You blinked at him

“What do you mean?” You asked, playing dumb. 

“Come on Y/n, I’d hope you’d give me more credit than this. You got stood up at the altar by your asshole, hopefully ex, fiance, and now you want to fuck the guy he hates more than just about anything else to get back at him. It’s a solid plan honestly, and luckily for you, I’ve had my eyes on you since the first time Satoru brought you around.” He was making eye contact with you. The fire in his crimson eyes danced with mirth and hedonistic intent. You realized this was probably why Sukuna had even bothered to show up to the reception. He had your plan before you even did.

Before you could respond, you were startled by a heavy hand on your shoulder. “Hey Y/n, how you holding up?” You looked up to see Sugurus' gentle smile. It didn’t reach his eyes. His eyes held nothing but steel and mild resentment. He always looked at you like that. You moved your shoulder from under his hand.

“I’m fine Sug, thanks for asking.” You muttered, taking a long sip of your drink. ‘Don’t sit down, don’t sit down, don’t sit down,’ played in your mind on repeat.

“Of course, Y/n. It’s the least I could do.” He said, sitting down. ‘Fuck!’ “I know this must be hard for you.”

“Actually, You’d be surprised.” You said, getting your nerves back together. This was Gojos' spy. You couldn't let him see you falter. “I’m just ready to be over it.”

“You know what they say; the best way to get over somebody is to get under somebody.” Ryomen chuckled as he finished his drink. Suguru glared at him.

“Yea, I never liked that advice.” He said, venom lacing its way into his words as he shot daggers at Sukuna with his eyes. He turned back to you, “It’s always sounded like a good way to make your situation worse.” Was that a threat? 

“I mean, You never know until you try.” You challenged.

“I disagree.” Suguru warned. You brushed him off. 

“Well, If that’s how you feel, so be it. Do me a favor?” You asked, looking at him with your best doe eyes.

“Of course, anything.” He said, plastering back on that fake sympathetic smile.

“Watch my drink for me,” you said, standing up and taking Sukunas’ hand, “Ryomen and I were just about to dance.” You grinned. Ryomen returned your grin ten fold, laughing as he followed you to the dance floor, leaving an almost visibly confused and quite frankly offended Suguru to seeth at the table. Last time you looked back, he had taken out his phone and was furiously typing on it. Good.

“I knew I liked you.” Ryomen whispered into your ear as the two of you made it to the dance floor. 

“Try to keep up with me.” You whispered back. You let the music flow through you, taking a few seconds to find your rhythm before moving your body in time with the music. Ryomen to his credit didn’t miss a beat, dancing not only to the beat, but in harmony with your own body as well. 

As the music played the two of you became more acquainted with each other's moves and dance styles. You thought you would switch it up on him, going in to grind. He didn’t falter for a second, placing a hand on your hip and matching your pace. You expected a lot of things from this exchange, but the electric pulse his touch sent through your body was not one of them.

“Am I keeping up with you?” Ryomen mumbled into your ear, the sound of his rough voice sent waves of heat through you and directly to your core. You spun around to face him, realizing that now he was within kissing distance.

“You’re doin’ well enough,”' you purred to him, running a hand over his chest and god damn. It should be illegal to be that well built. Between the tight shirt and your own sense of touch, you felt like you had a pretty good idea of what he looked like without that shirt on. Still, you desperately wanted to confirm your theory.

“What do you say we get out of here?” Ryomen asked, almost as if he could read your mind.

“I say that's a pretty good idea,” You nodded as the two of you left the dance floor. He wrapped his arm around your waist as he led you to the exit, and you slipped your hand into his back pocket. You really hoped Suguru had a clear view of this. ‘Eat your goddamn heart out Gojo’ You thought maybe just a bit too smugly as you found your way outside, and he gave his ticket to the valet boy.

You took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying to ground yourself back into reality. It didn’t feel quite real yet. Your almost four year relationship had just barely ended, and already you were hopping into bed with someone you knew was bad news. Nanami wasn’t joking when he said Sukuna was just Gojo ten fold. In the four years you’d known him, you had watched him lay waste to more hearts than you cared to keep track of. You just hoped you weren’t next. 

All doubts evaporated like water in Texas when Sukuna approached you again. He had unbuttoned three of his shirt buttons, showing off hints that his tattoos didn’t stop at his face and arms. A cigarette dangled loosely from his lips. He removed it long enough to exhale smoke as he approached.

“Valets on the way.” He informed you. You willed your brain to think of anything other than Ryomen naked long enough to nod. 

“Good to hear.” You nodded. You had a whole new set of anxieties now. You knew Ryomen had a lot of experience. What if you didn’t measure up? Apparently, your nerves were evident in your features. You caught a smug smile from the pink haired man next to you.

“You nervous?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Me?” You chuckled to hide the fact that yes, you indeed were. “I’ve got nothing to be nervous about Ryomen.” 

“Hmm, Well see about that.” He smirked. Before you had time to ask what the fuck that ment, a far prettier car than you were expecting pulled up. A gorgeous, 1957 Ford Thunderbird, with a beautiful cherry red paint job and, from what you could tell, a black leather interior. You knew that all of Gojos' friends were just as loaded as he was, the fact he had a nice car wasn't a surprise. But you had expected a Bently or a Lambo. Not a classic bombshell.

“You have a T-bird?!” you scoffed in disbelief. He laughed and nodded. 

“You like her?” He asked, beaming with pride as he tipped the valet. “I fixed her up myself.” He added, opening the door for you. You slipped into the soft leather seat, and a few seconds later he joined you.

“I never pegged you as a car guy.”

“You’ve never pegged me at all.” He grinned, laughing at his own joke. 

“Wow, you’re so funny you know that?” You scoffed, dripping in sarcasm. Despite that, you were giggling softly to yourself.

“Oh, I’m the funniest. You’d know that if you didn’t have your head up Satorus ass for four years.” He scoffed, shaking his head as if he still couldn’t believe that relationship lasted as long as it did. You shrugged softly, not really having a come back for that one. 

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “The dick was just that good.” If you had thought you had heard a full hearty laugh from Sukuna before, you hadn’t. You realized that as he fell into near hysterics over that comment. And, despite yourself, the sound was warm and infectious, making you laugh along with him.

“God, was he your first? That’s the only way I could see anyone thinking Gojo was good at sex, god.” He laughed, taking a drag off his cigarette before dangling it out of the window again.. You raised an eyebrow at that.

“And just how would you know? You get a little close and personal with our boy?” You said, wiggling your eyebrows at him. He was laughing, warm and hearty, again.

“Good God no!”He shook his head, “Some of us have standards! No, I don’t have any personal experience with him. But he brags all the time. Or, really, he thinks he brags. In reality, He talks about how bad he is at sex and we all just kinda nod and laugh at him behind his back.”

“Wait, He hasn’t talked to you guys about what happens in our bedroom, has he?!” You asked, a new wave of betrayal overtaking you. Ryomen just gave you a look and you knew the answer.

“Right, forget I asked.” You muttered. 

“Don’t worry Doll,” He assured you, placing a hand on your thigh. You thought your heart might explode at his warm touch. “After tonight, all of his bullshit will just seem like a fucked up nightmare.” You hoped he was right. 

💒💒💒

You were beginning to doubt your decision to bring him to your apartment instead of going to his. It’s not that you were ashamed of where you lived, on the contrary, you knew you had a beautiful residence. The shame came from the fact that this was technically still your shared dwelling with Satoru, and evidence of him still lingered in every corner of this apartment. His things were still here, which shouldn’t have been surprising really, but you were less ready to face it than you thought. 

The good news was Ryomen gave you exactly no time to start to miss your ex. His mouth was on yours almost the moment the two of you were in the door, pulling you close and taking your breath away in a needy kiss. You moaned softly into him, tangling your fingers into his soft pink hair, getting drunk on the scent of pine needles and Marlboro cigarettes. 

He kissed his way from your lips, to your jaw, all the way down to the base of your neck, leaving a trail of purple bruises in his wake. “Bedroom is-”

“I know.” He cut you off. You realized two things at that moment. 1.Sukuna had been to your house before, no doubt with Gojo. and 2. That he had been leading you to the bedroom the whole time. He fumbled for all of two seconds with the door before getting it open, ushering you in and all but pushing you onto the bed. It was in that moment that it hit you just how much bigger than you Sukuna was. 6’4 and made out of pure muscle, he could have truly hurt you if he wanted. 

You would think this would kill the mood a bit but quite the opposite actually. You pressed your thighs together to try and distract yourself from the almost uncomfortable amount of arousal pooling between them. Ryomen notably did not like this, moving to cage you onto the bed. “Come on Y/n, Don’t get shy on me now,” He purred as his hand moved down your body, “We just started having fun.”

You bit your lip as you began to melt under his electric touch. You watched as his hand disappeared under your dress. You bit your lip as you felt his fingers brush against the translucent spot on your panties. Your breath hitched and his smirk only grew.

“Is all of this for me, Doll?” He asked, teasing you through the fabric. You felt your hips unintentionally buck, trying desperately to make more friction. You nodded, maybe a little bit too aggressively for your taste, but it just seemed to encourage him. He chuckled, low and deep in his chest. “Thought so.” He muttered, moving your panties to the side and running one of his thick fingers up your folds, gathering the natural slick forming.

His eyes seemed to glow in the dim moonlight filling the room, taking in even your smallest reaction as he teased you. You whimpered softly at his touch. His gaze held yours firm as his fingers finally made contact with your clit. It was slow at first, sending soft pulses of pleasure through you. He built up a steady pace, applying more pressure and speed as your reactions demanded it. You whined needily, digging your freshly manicured claws into his shoulder blades.

“Ryomen..” You moaned. His name sounded so much prettier falling from your lips than he ever imagined. And he had imagined it.

“Say it again.” He encouraged, applying more pressure to your clit to make you squirm. His free hand found your hips, firmly pressing you into the mattress to keep you still.

“Ryomen, please..” You whimpered, “I need more, please..”

“What’s your rush?” He asked, a finger slipping down to tease at your weeping cunt. “We’ve got all night princess, and I’ve waited for this for too long to rush it.” He chuckled darkly, though he did grant your wish, slipping one of his fingers into you. He curled the long thick digit up, gracing your ever elusive (to Satoru) g-spot. You saw white hot, waves of fiery pleasure coursing through your core. You dug your claws even deeper into his back. He hoped the crescent moons of your nails would still be there in the morning. 

“Fuck, fuck! Ryo..” You moaned, losing yourself in the endorphins. He was persistent in the massaging of the soft part inside of you, and tension was quickly mounting. 

“Ryo?” He all but laughed, “That's new. I think I like it from you though.” He muttered, adding another finger into the mix. Your body tensed, both not ready for and more than excited to accept the intrusion. Your cunt clenched around his fingers as the tensions built inside of you. The string that had been tangling itself in your stomach was ready to snap, as were you. 

Your eyes screwed shut as you braced for your release, only to feel his hand move from your hip to your jaw, his nails digging into your skin just enough to get your attention. “Don’t close your eyes.” Ryomen growled, and you obeyed. “You fucking look at me. I want you to know who made you feel this good.” you whined at his words, but maintained eye contact with him. His blood red gaze was intense, molting hot even. If the inferno in your veins didn’t burn you alive, the incinerator behind his eyes surely would.

“Ryo, I’m so close.” You whined out. You were hit with wave after wave of bliss. Your body reacted to every stroke of his fingers inside of you, and the whirlwind was picking up. 

“Oh yea?” He muttered, with an intense focus that could almost be mistaken for disinterest. “Then cum for me Princess.” It didn’t take long after that. Three more passes from his expert fingers at most before you were overcome with euphoria. Fireworks pulsed through your core, making you far too hot and very sensitive all at once. All the while, Sukuna was finger fucking you through your high, watching as your face contorted with bliss. 

As you came down, you watched him slowly slip his fingers out of your sobbing cunt and into his mouth. He made the most obscene show of sucking his fingers clean, removing them after with a loud pop. 

“You taste so fucking sweet,” He praised, taking your hand and helping you stand up, “Come on, you’re too pretty to be in this ugly dress.”

“Hey!” You protested, “The dress isn’t that bad!” 

“Yes it is.” He said, annoyance quickly mounting as he saw it was a button up back. “It hides you more than it compliments you.”

“Well that doesn’t-Ryomen!” You snapped at him as he ripped the back open, deciding that the buttons weren’t worth the time. “This dress is Fucking Expensive!” 

“Invoice me for it then,” he scoffed, turning you around to face him. He dropped the dress from your shoulders. “There you are,” He hummed, smiling as he pulled you into a fierce kiss. The anger that you held for him ruining the dress quickly dissipated as you melted into his warmth. Fuck it, he was right. It was an ugly fucking dress. 

He slipped his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss and pulling you impossibly close. Your hands started to wander. You thought back to his tattoos, wondering about just where exactly they stopped. You found your way to the noticeable tent in his dress pants, grinding your palm against it and earning a deep groan from him. The sound went straight to your core, and suddenly it was the only thing you wanted to hear.

You fumbled with his belt, trying to get it undone while also focusing on your kiss. You didn’t get very far though before Ryomen brushed your hands away. He mumbled a soft ‘Fucks sake,’ before just undoing it himself, taking care of his button and zipper while he was at it. You were on your knees before he was finished, earning a smile and nod of approval.

“Well look at you Doll, pretty and smart.” He praised. You swallowed the air in your throat before reaching up to take him out. He sighed in relief once his cock wasn’t constrained anymore, and you bit your lip hard. If you were being honest, You had imagined Sukuna before. Late at night when your fiance was surly out with another woman, you found solace in daydreaming about what his rival's dick would be like. You had not imagined this. 

He was long and thick, almost intimidatingly so. Even at your most generous, you hadn’t imagined this. The tattoos also admittedly caught you off guard, the two black bands around his base standing out against his pale skin. But it worked for you. 

“Like what you see?” Ryomen smirked, never one to be shy. You felt embarrassment set a fire in your chest, despite the face you just looked him in the eyes while he finger fucked you into oblivion. Still, you nodded.

“Pretty cock.” Why was that what you thought to say!?

“Thanks, grew it myself.” He chuckled, his fingers falling to the back of your head, “I think it would look even prettier in your mouth though.” You didn’t need to be told twice. You licked your lips, wrapping your fingers around his base. You gave him a few experiential strokes, before taking the head into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around him, eliciting a growl.

“Don’t fucking tease me Y/n.” He warned darkly. You decided to ignore his very clear warning, licking along one of his more prominent veins. You kissed the tip again, opening your mouth to try and suck on just the head again. That didn’t slide this time though, as Sukuna sunk his nails into your scalp and pushed you the rest of the way down his length. You gagged around him, drawing a satisfied moan from him as he fucked your throat.

You scrambled for a few seconds before finding your rhythm. Breathe through your nose, relax your throat, and in no time you were taking him like a champ. You looked up and felt your cunt clench at the sight before you. Ryomens head was thrown back, strands of hair sweat stuck to his forehead, and his eyes twisted shut in bliss. The dim lunar light casted an angelic halo on the sinful scene, and you wondered why you had’t fucked him sooner. 

“God, you feel so good.” He breathed out, “Satorus’ a goddamn moron for giving this up.” You weren’t sure if that was directed at you or not, but he was right, and you hummed your approval of the statement. You watched his jaw tighten as the vibrations ripped through him, followed by him pulling you off of his dick. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, quickly crawling on top of you. He didn’t go to even part of that reception just to cum down your throat. He wanted everything you had to offer. You spread your legs for him as his fingers made their way back to your still dripping pussy. He started to work you open again, catching you in yet another passionate kiss. Satoru never kissed you like this.

“You’re fucking soaked still.” Ryomen noted, easily working you open for him. “Think you’re ready for me Doll?” You hummed your response, mentally preparing for this. He tsked at you. “With your words.” He said, the edge in his voice cutting through your brain fog.

“Yes.” You nodded, licking your dry lips. 

“Yes what?” His annoyance was getting more evident.

“Yes, I’m ready for you.” You whimpered. He finally nodded his approval.

“Good girl.” He said, before slowly pushing in. No matter how wet you were, you couldn’t have prepared yourself for this. You felt yourself being ripped apart at the seams, your cunt molding itself to him to accommodate. You took in a sharp breath as he let out a jagged one, hips faltering for just a second as he paused to let you adjust. 

“Jesus fucking christ you’re tight.” He groaned, getting lost in the way your velvety walls clenched around him and tried to pull him in further. You whined out in response.

“Ryo, I don’t think I can fit it all..” You admitted almost shamefully. 

“You can.” He assured you, pushing even further in, “You’re doing so good Princess.” You bit back a squeal, suddenly wanting nothing more than to make him proud. You let out an embarrassing moan as he finally pushed all the way in, but that's ok because he did too. For all the nights that he spent fucking his hand to the thought of you, nothing could have prepared him for how good you actually felt. 

He stilled for a minute, giving you time to fully adjust to his size. You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Ok, I’m ready..” You muttered. He chuckled darkly.

“Ready for what Doll?” He asked. You groaned, tired of his bullshit.

“Come on Ryo, please. You know what I want!” you whined.

“I do.” He confirmed, “And I want you to beg for it.” 

“Ryomen please!” you begged him, “Please, I need you to move. I need you to fuck me until I can’t think anymore, I want to feel you ruin me. Make me your whore, please, I want to be destroyed.” GOD Ryomen was lucky he didn’t cum right then and there. That was so much hotter than he thought it would be, and you could feel his dick twitch inside you. 

“If you insist.” He said, setting a brutal pace right off the bat and making you scream. “I’m going to mold this cunt to me, and me alone.” He growled into your ear, “When I’m done with you, I’m going to be the only man you’ll ever want again. No one will make you feel this good again.” He was probably right. The curve of his dick put it at the perfect angle to continuously massage your g-spot, overriding the slight discomfort of him fucking your cervix. He stretched you out so beautifully, you couldn’t imagine anyone else ever making you feel this full ever again.

“Tell me, Does he fuck you like this?” he asked, tangling his fingers into your hair to force you to look at him again. “Like the dirty whore you are?” you tried to shake your head no, but his grip was too tight.

“No, not nearly as good.” You whimpered, getting lost in the inferno of desire and pleasure that was overtaking you. Every thrust sent another shock wave of euphoria through you, the waves of bliss threatening to over take you with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck, do you know how long I’ve wanted to wreck this pussy?” You growled into your ear, “Ever since that motherfucker first brought you round us. Showing you off in that tight little skirt, flaunting you around like a brand new toy. I’ve thought of you every night since.” He said, folding you in half and wrapping your legs around his shoulders. The new angle let him sink even deeper into you, sending a new intense wave of ecstasy coursing through your veins and making you see stars.

“Four years is a long time to wait for something,” He mumbled, “But fuck me you’re so worth it. So much fucking better than my hand, or those bitches I’d pretend were you. Never been more thankful for that idiots' mistakes.” He laughed. You weren’t listening. You were driving at 140 miles per hour straight off a cliff and into a grave of dopamine and bliss. Your cunt clenched and wept around him, your orgasm coming faster than you wanted it to. 

“Ryomen, I’m so fucking close.” You whined, nearing the edge of the cliff.

“I know,” He huffed. He could feel it in the way you trembled around him, “Want you to come all over my cock. Come on, make a mess, pretty girl.” He purred, fingers finding your clit and massaging expert circles into it. That was it, the extra pleasure sending you over the edge. You felt like your soul left your body as stars exploded over your eyes. Your blood filled with euphoria, dopamine, and oxytocin. You felt your body stiffen and convulse around him as you were hit with wave after wave of pleasure. 

The way your cunt grabbed him like a vice, pulling him impossibly deeper, coupled with the intoxicating look on your face as you came brought him to his climax. He couldn't have pulled out if he wanted to (Is what he told himself) as he came deep inside you, overflowing your cunt and dripping onto the sheets. Everything stilled for the seconds that followed, both of you desperately trying to catch your breath.

He pulled out finally. He managed to roll to the side before he crumbled, collapsing next to you instead of on top of you. “Holy fuck,” He breathed out, basking in the afterglow with you.

“Holy fuck indeed.” You nodded, not knowing what else to really say. Gojos' sheets were definitely ruined. 

“And you mean to tell me he left you at the fucking altar?” Ryomen laughed in disbelief. “Talk about a fumble.”

“Well, to be fair, it’s never that good with him.” You admitted. You looked over to see Ryomens victorious grin.

“I believe that.” He muttered. Habit overtook you as you moved into the arms of your lover, resting your head on his chest to listen to his racing heart slowly return to normal. He didn’t move away, wrapping his arm around you instead. He kissed the top of your head. It was by far the most gentle act of the night. 

💒💒💒

Ryomen was gone when you woke up. You weren’t surprised, but you did find yourself disappointed, much to your further dismay. You weren’t expecting breakfast in bed or anything, but you were hoping he’d at least stick around long enough for a goodbye. Oh well, you knew what you were getting into when you decided to fuck him. And honestly, the last thing you needed right now was another playboy to fuck around with your heart.

You checked your phone and actually laughed. 12 missed calls and far too many texts, all from Gojo. It must have gotten back to him that you went home with Ryomen last night, and he was running himself ragged trying to “fix” his mistake. As if he could fix it. You deleted the voicemails along with the messages without reading them. You were about to put down your phone when a specific notification caught your eye. New Message, Sukuna. Never one to learn, you opened it immediately. 

Good morning beautiful. Sorry I left so early, work called. I’ll see you soon though ;) 

The sound that left you was truly embarrassing, but you didn’t care. You were ready to make a New Mistake.

[zirconika]

nine lives of a thief

ONE | living in high cotton

NAVIGATION . MASTERLIST

This chapter is part of a series entitled 'Nine Lives of a Thief,’ but you may choose to read each part as a oneshot. Click the link to view the series masterlist!

PAIRING: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader WORDS: 4.1k SUMMARY: Years after your first love broke your heart, you’re stunned to see him among the newly welcomed group of survivors in Alexandria, and his return might just be the cure to your heart that’s been malfunctioning ever since he left. Your personal goal to put everything in the past is interrupted by his mission to win you back. WARNINGS: Major angst in progress. Talks of a miscarriage and a former abusive relationship. SETTING: First few weeks in Alexandria and pre-apocalypse flashbacks

The last time you spoke to each other, the two of you were getting high in your parents’ Chevrolet Cavalier that you stole. On your ring finger rested a bejeweled stone he’d given you, promising you his love. 

I’m gonna marry ‘ya, he had told you. You believed him more than you believed any god in your life. You were going somewhere far away together, ready to leave behind the life both of you had. To him, leaving meant leaving Merle. But to you? It meant leaving everything behind.

And now, there you were. You no longer sported the voluminous curls the eighties deemed fancy, your face was bare, and you were older. He couldn’t take your eyes off you, and he wondered if you could also tell how much he’d changed ever since…

Well, ever since he ditched you. And most of all, he wondered if you were still carrying the same indignation you had when he left.

For the first time, your eyes laid on him from afar. Of all the many survivors you expected to find within the walls of Alexandria, you didn’t expect this damn asshole.

He watched as your face went from bliss to raw recognition, his heart thumping faster and heavier in every passing second you didn’t dare to walk over to him, until you did.

Oh, he didn’t know what to make of the world around him as you came closer. It was just like seeing you for the first time again, but this time he was begging the Earth to swallow him whole. 

By the time you were standing in front of him, the archer was at a loss of things to say, but also the power of saying it. Seconds passed and a look of doubt and uncertainty kept flashing on his face, and yet nothing came out of his mouth. 

You were just as bad. God, you hated the feeling in your bones that wanted to throw your arms over his shoulder. He was alive and breathing. The closest thing you could do was give him a tight smile.

“Hi,” you tell him with a smile. “I—uh, it’s been, what, thirty years?”

The two of you couldn’t help but laugh, and he was grateful to all the saints and gods in the world no matter how much he lacked faith that some force of destiny had brought him here, and that you were still safe. 

The weight in his chest was slowly beginning to lift. Maybe it really is all in the past. 

“Yeah, m’still Daryl, though. You?”

You chuckle. “Still [Y/N], sadly. Y’know, uh, I was actually just about to head out to the porch with a beer. You…wanna come with me?”

Then came the weight. You noticed rigidity returning to Daryl’s stance, and you instantly regretted having asked. 

You chuckle nervously. “You don’t have to, I just… Thought you looked—”

He shook his head to assure you. “Nah, yeah, I wanna come with ‘ya. Let’s go.”

The air was cold, but it didn’t bother you as much in the presence of Daryl Dixon. You wanted to beat yourself over the fact that he had so much control over you all thanks to the scent of his you could recognize anywhere. Heck, you smelled him before you saw him. The moment that you got a whiff of him just a few minutes ago, you knew you were bound to crumble. It’s only thanks to the bottle of beer in your hand that you’re able to comfort yourself.

He leans against the porch’s post as you lean opposite him. He’d changed indeed. You eye him with deliberation: his hair was darker, longer. Wrinkles were present in places where you used to kiss him. You shake the thought away. “Not surprised you’re a survivor.”

An unsaid anguish hung between the two of you. Daryl crossed his arms to gnaw at his thumb. He never seemed to outgrow that habit, and you couldn’t help but feel comfort from the familiarity.

“Have ‘ya been here right from the start?” he asked to break the ice, taking a sip from his bottle so he’d have something to do with his hands when you spoke.

“Yeah, I—uh—bought a lot here when they were still preselling, so I got it for a pretty good deal.” You shrugged. Moving away from the post you were leaning on, Daryl thought you were going to leave with no farewell, but instead you just set the beer down. “Y’know the house you and your folks holed up together in? That was mine.”

You could see heat rush to his face, and you could tell he felt bad over the prospect of you giving up your house for them. Daryl’s shoulders tensed. “They kicked ‘ya outta yer own house?”

You shake your head with a smile. “No, it’s not like that. I volunteered to give it up. I moved to a smaller house. I’ve been dying for an excuse to leave that house, anyway.”

“Why’d ‘ya wanna leave? It’s a big house,” he observed. It is a big house. It catered to the entirety of their group with no problems.

“Because it’s a big house,” you answered as-a-matter-of-factly. Living alone in that shell of a home haunted you in more ways than one. At one point, you felt as if there was a ghost upstairs because you had never bothered to visit it. 

Daryl paused. You had to glance his way to check on him. He seemed to be debating on whether or not he should ask something until he decided on doing so. He needed answers. “What about your…family?”

He’d been trying to forget that the last time he really saw you was years after he’d left you. It was in a grocery store, and you were shopping for baby diapers while caressing your belly. And then he was on the run with Merle again.

That was ten years ago, some time before the turn. Daryl assumed one of the kids he ran into was yours, or maybe you’d tucked him or her to bed. He knew nothing about you.

“Oh, it’s just me.”

It was clear Daryl had more questions, but you figured he deserved to know at least a little bit of your recent history. 

“It’s alright to be curious, y’know. Husband ditched when he knocked up his work wife. Good riddance.” You hated that you were only relieved to find out he’d left. It wasn’t standard for a woman to rejoice upon discovery that she’d been left for another woman, but it meant freedom. 

Daryl nodded slowly, processing it all in his mind. He couldn’t believe it, any of it. He’d been living on the belief that you were better off. That you were happy.

You sipped from your beer again. “I didn’t really mind, and taking care of the divorce papers proved to be a good distraction. Plus, I got the house and the car so I’m not really complaining. He did get our vacation cabin in Vermont, though. But what good is it for now, right?”

“Right,” he scoffed. And he didn’t want to ask, but he decided to maximize your go signal to ask anything. “What about… What about your kid?”

You raised a brow. “You know about that?”

“M’sorry,” he hurriedly said, shaking his head. “Ya don’t have to tell me anythin’ about that.”

“Nah, it’s fine.” You waved a dismissing hand. It surprised you that you were no longer as affected as you were then. It no longer pained you to talk about her. “She died the minute she came into the world.”

“I’m sorry.” The image of you shopping for diapers came to Daryl’s mind. At the time, it seemed that you were happy, and maybe he was right. But the more he knew about you, the more he began to doubt that your life was better the moment he left it. 

All the time you spent apart, Daryl concocted an image of you tending to your sweet and happy family in the suburbs, busy sending your kids to school and celebrating every anniversary with your husband in different countries every single year.

“Nothing to be sorry about,” you said with a smile. You’ve moved on from it, really. “It was for the best. Can you imagine raising a kid in this mess?”

Daryl made no comment whatsoever, but you remembered that his gang had brought a teenager and an infant. 

You sigh. “Sorry. But you get it.”

“S’fine, yer right anyway.” Daryl took a sip from his bottle. “You should meet ‘em sometime.”

You nodded in response, and he watched as you subconsciously and subtly knocked on your chest. It was one of those things he’d gotten used to seeing you do back then, and he never got to ask why you constantly did it. It didn’t feel like a big deal to ask now, so he let it slide, simply grateful for the opportunity of seeing the little parts that made you who you are once more.

“Geez, I think I gotta lay off the beer,” you said, settling it down on the floorboards.

He nodded. “Right, good call.”

“So, how’s my house?” you started. Daryl knew the time for him asking you questions was over, at least for now. He respected that.

“S’good, there’s plenty of space for us all,” Daryl answered. “Though I gotta be honest, ‘ya gotta give us some time to warm up to it.”

You give him a warm smile. “I get that.”

“But it is cozy,” he added. You don’t know what he meant by it, but a playful grin rested on his mischievous lips. “Pretty far from the camper van ‘ya said ‘ya wanted to live in forever.”

“We’re gonna run away and we’ll just…I don’t know, steal one of those camper vans and go anywhere together!” you had told him when you let him put the ring on your finger, wearing a smile you were so sure you’d never have to bother removing.

You stared at him a little longer than you intended to. You notice the mole he had just shy above his smirk that slowly faltered. You used to love kissing that very spot. No, don’t think about that.

Fuck. “M’sorry, didn’t mean it that way.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” you laughed, waving your hand in the air to assure him. “I’m just surprised you remember.”

His shoulders relaxed, but the guilt that accompanied him in every journey he’d taken on never left. If anything, he felt its weight more so now that he’s found himself in front of you again. 

“Yeah, well, how could I not?” 

“To be fair, you did drive away in my car while I was getting nachos.” You had to look away this time, bringing your attention to the gates in the distance. 

Daryl froze. He wasn’t stupid, but he might as well have been. He knew what it looked like to you all these years, and for the first time in a long time he thought once more about how you must have felt in the parking lot, searching for half an hour only to realize you were all alone miles away from home.

It was too late to explain himself, but he could at least try. 

“M’sorry about what I did,” he said carefully. “I was an idiot for that. M’just glad to know you’ve been alright all these years.”

He didn’t mention noticing your jaw tightening as you smiled at him, but he also realized how much of a bad choice it was to comment that you’ve been alright. There was a story in that expression of yours somewhere, he knew that. It just wasn’t the time to ask about it more. 

“It’s fine, really,” you told him. “It’s in the past, it’s been decades. We’re adults. And it’s the least of our problems now, I mean, we got the dead walking for fuck’s sake!”

You laugh in disbelief, and so does he. It was so easy, so natural. Suddenly, you were seventeen in the passenger seat right next to Daryl fucking Dixon singing Boys Don’t Cry by The Cure as it played in the car stereo. 

No.

This shouldn’t be real, you thought to yourself. You’d put him in the deepest, darkest pit in your mind and in your heart. Daryl coming back was a blessing and a curse. Though you were grateful to discover that he was a survivor, his presence ached you deeply.

It dug out every single memory from your past you’d tried so hard to bury. Your smile faltered as you felt the past blending with the present. 

Daryl noticed the change, so you spoke before he could. 

“I should get going now,” you announced with a forced smile, a little bit louder than you intended as your mind was preoccupied thinking of an excuse. “I gotta go home!”

“Want me to walk with ‘ya?” You could see a grin growing on his damned lips. It was like being brought back to the past. You knew this scene somewhere, and you hated that you liked it.

“Well, I—it’s fine!” 

“S’fine to walk with ‘ya or s’not fine to walk with ‘ya?” he asked, but it was more of a challenge. Usually, you knew what to say and how to say it. You were just that kind of person, it was even something you were proud of.

“Erm,” you gulped. 

This was not one of those ‘usual’ moments.

You wanted to return to the party, but you couldn’t just say that—you’d already taken one step down, away from the porch! 

You look back at him to explain yourself as you walk a little bit farther every single time. You were going the wrong direction, but you decided that it was too late to go the right way. You’d just have to make a round trip across Alexandria. “I got this…thing. In my stomach. I have to, you know. And I’m tired, so I guess I’ll—!”

“Nah, seriously, I insist.” Daryl had made up his mind the minute he asked. He brought the half empty bottle of beer with him as he walked ahead of you. 

You scoffed. “Fine.”

Though Daryl seemed to have built this wall around himself, you could still see rays of his stubbornness. It used to be something you’d fight over, but also solely for the purpose of kissing and making up.

The first half minute of the walk was silent, and you hated how peaceful and at ease you felt. It should have felt unbearable, uncomfortable. Daryl had a way with his presence you never realized you’d been missing until now that you have it again.

You tell yourself it’s just the severity of being your first love, but it was more than that. You waited for a couple of seconds to pass before deciding that this idiot wasn’t gonna make conversation despite insisting to walk you home.

“So, the outside,” you started. “How long have you and your people been out there?”

“For a while. The longest home we had was a prison.”

“You were…in jail?” you asked hesitantly. You knew of his criminal record, but you didn’t consider for a moment that he’d been behind bars this entire time.

“No,” he answered. “Just found shelter there.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry.”

You didn’t have to look at him to know you’d find a grin on his face. His stupid, stupid, stupid face. “Ya thought I was in prison?”

“No! Just when you mentioned it. Then just now, I thought it made sense why I never heard from you.”

Daryl stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. He’d thought you wanted nothing to do with him. “You were expecting to?”

Maybe it was wrong to confess something like that. “A postcard would’ve been nice.”

“Didn’t know where ‘ya lived.” He shrugged, even though he wanted to admit that he assumed you no longer wanted to hear news about his whereabouts. 

“Well, you knew about my kid. What’s that about?” You’d been meaning to ask, but you couldn’t find the opening. 

The archer halted, looking for an escape hatch. 

I heard from a friend? No, he didn’t. The honest answer would’ve been that Daryl wanted to reach out to you but bailed when he discovered the good life you were blessed with. The life Merle said you’d be robbed of having had you run away with Daryl.

But Daryl wasn’t an honest man, at least not tonight.

“I didn’t know, I just guessed.”

And of course, you let him lie. “Right. And you wanted to walk me home because…?”

“I wanted to.” Daryl had not yet toured the entirety of the neighborhood, but it felt like a pretty long walk for a walk home. Just when he’s about to ask, you reach the small apartment buildings just across Deanna’s house. The two of you had just done a round trip of Alexandria. You were just right across the street.

He wanted to ask why you’d taken the long route when you’d seemed so eager to be away from him earlier that night, but he knew exactly why. 

You were never able to make the sane decisions when you were with him. 

You stop in front of your home. “Well, this is me.”

“M’kay, I’ll see ‘ya around.” The archer gave you a tight smile, raising his hand as a wave right before turning around to make his way to the gate. 

“Daryl,” you called. And he’s glad you did. “Have you been well? Ever since?”

He thought of Merle. Beth. Herschel. Everyone they lost. When you were younger, you changed him. That change was undone when he left, ruining everything you’d built together. But this time, the man you built before was slowly returning. 

Has he been well? Daryl knew better than to disagree. 

The archer stared up at you one step away, curious if his eyes were deceiving him by letting him see you again. “Yeah, I’ve been alrigh’.”

“Okay,” you say, half-satisfied. “I had fun. Bye, Daryl.”

And Daryl watched as you hurriedly got inside your home. You didn’t know it yet, but something inside him sparked bright with ambition. This wasn’t the end of it.

Mornings in Alexandria were particularly slow in the most comfortable way possible. It unnerved Daryl; something about going on his day ‘normally’ felt alien, out of place. Thus, he’d often step out for long hours to ‘hunt,’ when really he could be back anytime he wanted with his stellar skill in the craft. 

He wouldn’t say it, but he just felt suffocated in Alexandria. Some would argue that the apocalypse wired him to be the way he was now, but a part of him would beg to disagree. He would’ve felt smothered had he found himself inside the damn gated community way before the turn. 

And that’s precisely why he’d fallen prey to Merle’s argument about you that fateful day he left.

“What, ‘ya think a girl like [Y/N]’s gonna be fine livin’ off pot? Nah, brother. She’s been livin’ in high cotton her entire life. Girls like her were made for them nice houses with picket fences married to a fancy man who works in a bank. How’s that g’nna work, huh? Hell, yer the kind who robs one!”

Daryl had been so sure he made the right choice then…

“Something bothering you?” Carol asked the archer, just leaving the house in complete uniform looking very much like a sweet, harmless housewife. 

“Nah.” Daryl looked up behind him as he sat on his haunches, cigarette in his loose hand as if it was an extension of himself. “Didn’t feel like goin’ out today, but I didn’t feel like stayin’ here, either.”

“You could take a shower,” said Carol. Daryl grunted, and she only smiled, knowing where to direct the conversation to. “Maybe then you could finally ask out your pretty neighbor.”

“What?” Daryl spun, standing up to meet Carol at eye-level. He didn’t want anyone to know of his past, much less see a part of it. Suddenly, everything felt real. You felt real. You were, but it pained him to admit that he hasn’t yet been able to say everything he’s wanted to say in every single day that haunted him when he left. 

Carol, on the other hand, had thought nothing of it for the past week. Though she wondered if there was more to the story, she resorted to assuming Daryl simply liked the Alexandrian. But Carol wasn’t stupid, she knew now for sure that there was something deeper.

“See, I was making conversation with everybody. I heard from Sally that [Y/N] was supposed to bring cookies, but she burnt them too much.” Carol wanted to laugh at how serious her friend looked, eager to hear more. “So, I wanted to help her out and Sasha said she saw her leave with you.”

“S’that it? All of it?” Daryl asked, his voice grim. 

Carol crossed her arms, raising her brow in question. “That’s all of it for me, what’s all of it for you?”

The archer trudged down the stairs of the porch, tossing the cigar on the floor as he did so. “Nothing.”

“The house we’re staying at,” Carol started, just enough to get Daryl to stop in his tracks. “That house is hers, isn’t it?”

Daryl paused. “Ya heard some of it?”

“I may have heard some of it,” she said. “I might have even heard…all of it? Before you walked her home?”

“Damn it, Carol!” he groaned in exasperation. There was no point in denying it now. Carol knew something, and knowing her, Daryl knew she’d been observing you ever since that night. No lie would slide past that woman no matter how hard he tried.

“So?”

Daryl looked around him, checking if someone else was listening into their conversation. “The garage,” he said. And so they went.

When they got inside, Carol was surprised to find a brand new motorcycle. She ran to its side, eyeing the shine on the body. “Oh, she’s pretty! Where’d you get her from?”

“I know,” Daryl exclaimed. “Aaron, he… He wants me to look for survivors with him instead of—Ow!”

Carol punched his arm, her eyes wide in defiance and her mouth grinning wide. “You’re trying to change the subject!”

“Am not,” he defended, feeling his arm with his hand. That woman was a nut, and she was getting an answer whether he wanted to or not. “Fine. Just the short version.”

She crossed her arms again, making her outfit look more like a costume than a uniform. “Alright, what’s the story?”

He didn’t want to tell it, but somehow he felt he needed to. Daryl was used to bottling his secrets in the belief that he could carry it all on his own. He couldn’t. It just so happened that it was your history together that had the most effect on him. 

“We’ve known each other since we were kids,” Daryl started. His heart was begging to be released into the wild where it could be free. Telling this part of his life was something he’d never bothered to let out. Heck, he’d never even thought about it to himself in a long time. He treated it like a dream he was starting to forget but couldn’t. “I was trynna win her when we grew up, and I—we dated. For some time. Then we were gonna run away together. She was the one who wanted to; stole her parents’ car ‘n everythin’, brought a wad load of cash. I gave her a ring I saved up for, and we were gonna go far away. We hopped two states. Then I… And… I just—she was one of those kids from a well off family, alrigh’? And I was…intimidated.”

Though Carol found herself smiling for the first half, she didn’t like where this story was going. “What did you do?”

Daryl stilled himself for what was about to come out next, from his mouth and Carol’s.

“I left her while we were two states away from home. She was shoppin’ for groceries while I was in the parkin’ lot. I drove away. With the car. And the cash. Never looked back.”

The next thing he knew, his friend had planted a hard slap across his face. And he knew he deserved it. Heck, he deserved worse than that. Maybe even deserved to die for it, now that he knew the life you were left to live wasn’t exactly paradise.

Daryl Dixon was a coward.

Daryl Dixon was stupid for assuming he could even win you back.

And most of all, you would be just as stupid if you let him.

i'm still building my blog. so for now, just send me an ask to be added to my taglist :)

DARYL DIXON TAGLIST: @vaniniweenie

[greyeyedmonster-18]

we meet again

(so @arliedraws created a slytherin!sirius universe in which james in an auror and sirius is a death eater (or is he??) and they have unfulfilled homoerotic urges for one another and i...came up with this idea, and it's been in my brain (and @impishtubist's SMS text messages for licherally months). It seemed that arlies most recent day of birth was an appropriate time to drop this. xoxo)

--

James's cheeks hurt from smiling so widely as two first-year aurors brought out a cake, lit with an abundance of candles that shot up into the air spelling out Happy Retirement Auror Potter! To complete the package, the cake was decorated as a tropical lagoon. Crystal blue waters, and yellow sprinkles on top to mimic a sunset. Sending James a final subliminal message to cash in his 30 years of unspent vacation time, aside from a few days here and there, and disappear into the tropics. Off the grid, off radar, off the cases. Officially.

Not that James was one who ever said I cannot wait to retire in passing--because he had loved every moment of his years in the aurors department. His first year in the training program, his first big raid, his promotion to Senior Auror, to Director of the Department and finally in his last year, the ultimate promotion of having the responsibility of training new aurors. He had put in the work, and he could leave the department and rest easy knowing everyone left behind would continue to do faithful and just work for the wizarding world. Including his son, Harry who, after years of telling James no I'm not coming into the department, I don't want to, I'm not following in your footsteps, shove off, Dad and trying a host of obscure occupations just to prove a point (most recently a shop clerk at Florean Flortescue) he finally confessed to James he had applied.

James tried to pretend he wasn't elated. Harry tried to pretend he wasn't equally as excited, both of them concealing smiles on Harry's first day in the department. Keeping it cool as the Potter Men were known to do.

"I can't believe you actually did it," Harry said, as cake was passed around, the retirement party in full swing. James was halfway through his slice, blue frosting magically enchanted to pool around the rim of his plate.

"Did you doubt it?"

"Yes," Harry stressed, alongside Moody and Sturgis Podmore, both chatting within earshot. Harry gave James a pointed look, as if to say see, it's not just me. "I thought you were going to delay it again just last week when you got all weepy about writing the report details for your last training class. 12 pages--"

"It's important to be thorough--"

"And that last one was damp, swear," Harry teased, and James shook his head cutting off another bite of cake.

"Oh, just you wait. You'll be crying at your desk too when the time comes," James told him, teeth tinted blue as he spoke, "and you'll look around and wonder where the time went and wish you could--"

Harry dropped his head to the side, closing his eyes and letting out a small snore, earning a loud laugh from Moody, before pretending to wake up, "Sorry? I must've fallen asleep while you were reminiscing."

"Reflecting," James corrected.

"Much more interested in our vacation--"

"Oh no, you're much too busy," James told him, letting out a low whistle, "I've seen that training curriculum and I don't think you'll have time for much of anything for the next few...years?" James shrugged, "Looks like I'll be seeing Santorini, and Turks and Caicos all by myself. Maybe I'll finally take your advice and," James paused to think for a moment, "What is it you've been telling me? Find--"

James sentence was cut off by the department doors opening, Kingsley Shacklebolt striding in, violet robes trailing behind him, jaw clenched and eyebrows close together. James couldn't help but laugh a little as Harry seemed to straighten up, putting his hands behind his back as the Minister of Magic made his way toward Moody and the other Senior Aurors in the room. James had known Kingsley for years--and by extension, Harry had known Kingsley for years, but everything seemed to shift when Kingsley went from Your Dads Friend with the Cool Tattoos and Earrings, to Minister of Magic and Effectively Your Boss. Harry cleared his throat and gave James a nod, before following the other younger aurors in looking extremely busy around the office. Suddenly papers were all too out of place, and there was much work to be done, when only moments before, they were playing a rousing game of napkin Quidditch.

"Sorry, Potter, this celebration may have to be cut short. Auror Bones just sent a patronus, and that burglary down at Diagon Alley might not be so simple after all," Shacklebolt said, dropping his voice lower, "The owner of the shop confessed to having some...untoward artifacts in the back, and you'll never guess what was taken."

"What kind of artifacts?" James asked.

"You're retired, Potter."

James looked at his watch, "I'm not retired for another two hours, now what kind of artifacts?"

"Reliquaries is how the owner described them. Heirlooms that have been passed down in his family for centuries...which means--"

"Layers of dark magic." Moody mumbled.

"That's not the important piece, I'm afraid," Kingsley continued, "The only reason the owner knew there had been a burglary was because the backdoor was left unlocked. I remember when I was a junior auror here...there was a series of home theft...shop theft...all of them with the back entry way left open and--"

"A note," James cut him off immediately, eyes wide as his heart pounded against his rib cage. He could feel a flush fall over his body, acid rising in his throat.

"Oh no," muttered Moody.

"What did the note say?" James asked again and Kingsley hesitated, sharing a glance with Moody.

"Potter, you're retiring, enjoy your--"

"What did the note say?" James asked again, this time loud enough to catch the attention of other members of the department.

"Finders keepers."

--

James's ears were ringing as he left the auror department, not even pausing after Kingsley had spoken the words on the note. Two single words, and suddenly James couldn't see straight. Couldn't think straight.

Finders keepers, finders keepers, finders keepers.

It didn't matter that James was set to retire in an hour and a half.

It didn't matter he had left a party in his honor. It also didn't matter that his lips were stained blue from cake, or that he had dinner plans with Harry after the party to celebrate, just the two of them. He threw open the door to his office, the walls now barren and the space void of any personal touches, and quickly went toward his filing cabinet.

This case, had been the only one James had be removed from. This case, had been the only one in thirty years that had just been marked closed with no real resolution. A series of home thefts over the course of three months, all seemingly connected, but they came up empty every time, eventually abandoning it. After three months, after James was removed from the case, not a single report.

Every time a burglary had been called in since, James read the file and poured over every detail, hoping for more information. For a reason to reopen the case. But none was ever found. James had the dates memorized. Pulling each report one by one, and opening them to the notes found at each scene.

Finders keepers.

He grabbed the files, shrinking them and shoving them into the pockets of his robes, wand in hand as he left his office once more, closing the door behind him. Moody, and Kingsley were already on their way down the hall, nearly chasing after James, urgency in their footsteps to stop him from doing something stupid.

"Potter!" Moody barked

"Evening, Alastor. I believe I have a party to be getting back to," James said simply, though sweat was dripping down his back, beading on the center of his forehead. He ran a hand through his greying hair, in a way he hoped was nonchalant and not in a way that looked dangerously suspicious.

"Potter, do I need to remind you, you were removed from this case and--"

"I'm retired, w-why in Merlins name would--don't be--no, I-I'm not, and there's no, it's a party! I'm having a great time, have a good night!" James gave them both a wave before resuming his brisk walk-run down the hallway, shoes squeaking on the tile floor, eager to get out of the department

He knew where to go.

He knew he shouldn't be going there.

But.

He had to.

There was a fireplace on the first floor of the Ministry of Magic for floo access. James approached the fireplace, thinking, briefly, that perhaps it was foolish to think that after all this time he might still have access--clearance-- to this location. He grasped a handful of floo powder anyway, closing his eyes as he stepped into the fireplace.

"NUMBER TWELVE GRIMMAULD PLACE!"

--

The sitting room looked exactly as James remembered it.

Sort of.

The curtains had been changed. They were a deep yellow now instead of grey like they were the last time James was here. The carpet had been removed, and James stepped out of the fireplace onto cool hardwood floors.

The pristine black leather couch, and the gaudy chandelier were the same though. So were the end tables, and the armchair in the corner with a hand-embroidered throw pillow. James had laughed at it then, because a crook shouldn't have had something so dainty and delicate so proudly on display in their home. So distracted by the decor, the once familiar smells and sounds of Number 12, he didn't notice the man in the doorway.

"I have to admit, Potter, this is quite the surprise."

James jumped, hand immediately grasping the wand on the inside of his robes, attention turning toward the man in the doorway. Dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, not quite tucked into his trousers; dark hair cut shorter than the last time James saw him. 20 years ago. He was wearing house slippers, which shouldn't have been odd, considering they were indoors and among other names James could've called him, Sirius Black was far from a barbarian, and knew better than to wear shoes around the house. But the slippers were fur lined. And James had to stop the corners of his mouth from grinning--just as they had at the pillow.

All at once, James was in his thirties again. Not his fifties.

And he was staring at Sirius Black. Tall, dark, irritating, criminal , Sirius Black. Thoughts racing, with absolutely nothing to say. Tongue swollen in his mouth.

"I could have you arrested," Sirius remarked casually, tilting his head to the side. "I believe this is what people in your line of work call trespassing, isn't it?"

"Your floo let me in," James responded, sounding much younger, and much more petulant than he intended. It was always that way around Sirius. James had thought that years as an auror would put him in a better position to deal with Sirius Black and his quick tongue. That this time he would be ready, and James would be able to respond with ease and not stare and stammer as he did in the past.

He was wrong.

"Ah, so this is just poor manners? Or did I forget the moment I invited you to my home? Did we have dinner plans?"

"Well, no but--"

"No to poor manners? Or no I didn't forget?"

James rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, "We didn't have plans, Black. I'm not here for a chat--"

"But we have so much to catch up on. It's been ages-- how's your son?"

"Cut the shit, Black. I know you were behind the burglary down in Diagon Alley."

Sirius gasped, pressing his hand to his chest, looking surprised and affronted by James's accusation, "Me? But I've been at home all day. Baking. Would you like a slice of rhubarb, Potter?" Sirius gestured with his head, turning around to walk back through the doorway and down the hall of Grimmauld Place.

James followed.

"Well, don't stand there, you can have a seat. Make yourself at home," Sirius gestured to the kitchen table. Fresh flowers in the center. James took a seat, watching as Sirius waved his wand to begin slicing a pie on the counter, all the while smirking at James with his arms folded across his chest. "Do you still take your tea with cream?"

"No!" James objected, "I mean, I do but don't offer me tea, I'm here--"

"Yes, yes, very official auror business, I remember. Just because you have poor manners and show up unannounced to people's homes--"

"I don't!"

"--doesn't mean that I do, and you're a guest in my home, so I am going to offer you tea. Do you still take it with cream?"

"Yes...thank you," James said, watching as Sirius poured two cups of tea, sending them over to the table, along with the pie before joining James.

Black still had that same damn smile. Not a grey hair in sight, though had more creases under his eyes.

"Thank you," James repeated, looking down at the pie in front of him, something clicking in his brain. "Why...why do you have this pie?"

Sirius smiled slowly. "Why not?"

"Why do you have a rhubarb pie, Black?"

"Well, since you asked. A little birdie told me you were retiring from the auror department and...I just thought I'd...prepare for the occasion. It's your favorite, isn't it?"

[sjsmith56]

Cold Hearted

Summary: AU one shot. A marriage of convenience between the son and daughter of two CEOS to benefit their companies leads to a friendship between the couple, then more.

Length: 6.7 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, unnamed and undescribed female character. She is occasionally referred to as “Sweetheart” or “Pretty girl.”

Warnings: unresolved emotional trauma, Bucky is a bit of a party boy at first, loneliness, unrequited love, feelings of worthlessness and betrayal.

Author notes: There’s some angst in this but it’s part of the growth process for the couple as they learn to trust and rely on each other.

🥂 🏥 🐚

It was just a business deal according to my father. I marry the son of his biggest competitor and they signed an agreement to split the market between them. It sounded like something a mob boss would ask of their daughter, but my father wasn't in the mob, at least not so far as I knew. He was the CEO of a billion-dollar company, just like the competitor was and both of them had spent almost two years fighting to corner the market for a stupid product that would be outdated in a year, two at the most. Then someone, a VP or maybe my father's mistress (same person) suggested a marriage of convenience. After all, you wouldn't screw over family. So, here I was, standing in a church next to a total stranger, both of us facing the minister as he droned on and on about the sanctity of marriage.

We each said I do, when it was asked of us, then put a ring on each other's left hand, while not once making eye contact. When it was time to kiss, he looked at me then and kissed me hurriedly on my cheek; his blue eyes looking quickly away as if I was something unexpected. We signed the register, were introduced as Mr. and Mrs. James Barnes, then he offered me his arm and we stepped down the aisle towards the open doors at the end of the church. All I had to do was pull away from him, sprint through the doors, hail a cab and I could run away. But I didn't. I took the long walk, stood in the receiving line, shook hands with my father and my new father-in-law's business colleagues then was told it was time to leave. My husband offered me his hand, led me out the doors, past the people throwing rose petals at us and into the limousine. Our wedding party piled into the second vehicle. At least it was quiet in there and as it pulled away; he looked behind us then let out a breath of air, seemingly glad that was over with.

"You thirsty?" he asked. "I think there's water in the mini fridge."

Without waiting for an answer, he opened it, took out two bottles and uncapped one, offering it to me before he opened his, draining half of it almost immediately. I sipped mine several times, then placed the cap back on.

"What did you father offer you to do this?" he asked.

I looked at him. "Nothing, just said I better do it if I wanted to still be part of the family and get my inheritance."

He frowned. "That's cold. My dad offered me $10 million. I talked him up to 25."

I looked out the window. Swell. My husband had to be paid to marry me.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I guess that sounds crass. You seem nice but I'm not the faithful type. I like my freedom."

I looked at him. He was a handsome man and in real life would never look at someone like me. He was all nightclubs, parties, exotic vacations and I was a quiet, shy wallflower, who had only ever had a handful of boyfriends. At least he was honest, if telling me he wasn't the faithful type meant he was probably going to cheat on me.

"James, you know the contract stipulates grandchildren, at least two."

"I know. I thought we could use IVF. I wouldn't expect you to sleep with me." He was quiet for a moment. "Call me Bucky. It's my nickname. James is what my father calls me when he's about to chew me out about my lifestyle."

"Okay. So, we'll have separate bedrooms?" He nodded.

"If you want but I won't bring anyone home," he said. "I wouldn't embarrass you like that and I'll be as discreet as I can." He frowned. "Your dad say anything about the divorce agreement in two years?"

I looked at him. "No, what divorce agreement?"

"You get $100 million as a settlement plus a house and a car, child support. I saw the papers and you signed it."

My mind went blank for a moment. There were so many documents that I signed when this was proposed, and I just put my signature where the lawyer said. Why wouldn't they make it known I had a divorce agreement?

"I can ask my lawyer, if you wish," he said. "I mean, you are my wife now, and your wellbeing is my concern. I'm not a complete cold-hearted asshole."

I smiled at him, and he squeezed my hand then he drank some more of his water. We pulled up to the reception venue and waited for the driver to open the door. Bucky got out, then offered me his hand to get out. There were several flashes from the paparazzi, as Bucky was well known in certain social circles, then we hurried inside and made our way to a private lounge for our formal wedding pictures. As the pictures of me and my attendants were being taken, I noticed Bucky talking animatedly with a man. He seemed bothered at what the man was explaining then when he was called for our pictures he turned to him.

"Get it done," he said. "It's not fair and I'll expose the whole thing right now if it isn't fixed."

He smiled at me as he approached, then stood where the photographer told him, right behind me. As the photographer directed the others into position he leaned towards my ear and spoke in a low voice.

"My lawyer said you signed over the proceeds of the divorce agreement to your father. I told him that was false, as you didn't even know about the agreement. If they don't fix it, we'll get an annulment and he'll get nothing. Since I already got paid by my dad, I'll give you half. It's only fair." My mouth was open, and he placed his hand under my chin, closing it, as he grinned. "I told you, I'm not an asshole, well, at least not to those who are my friends."

My smile during the photographs was genuine. It had been a long time since I had anyone that stood up for me; certainly not my parents or any of my siblings. My grandmother, before she died, was the last person who ever advocated for me, and I had forgotten how good it felt to have someone in my corner. When the pictures were done, Bucky went over to a table filled with liquor bottles and poured out shots for everyone. I looked at him dubiously, as I wasn't much of a drinker.

"Come on, it's your wedding day," he smiled. "Open your mouth, pour it in and swallow."

I did as he said, feeling it burn down my throat. He laughed then did his own shot, before pouring another. With his encouragement I drank that one, then another before the wedding planner came in to say we had to make our entrance. Grabbing my hand, he pulled me out the door and waited for the rest of the wedding party to go in as they were introduced. Then it was our turn and he looked at me, then smiled.

"You ready, Mrs. Barnes?"

I nodded and we danced our way into the reception room, as the guests clapped in time to the music. As we passed my family's table, I noticed my father was glaring at me. Bucky noticed too and leaned in close to me.

"Kiss me," he said. "Let your dad know that we're fucking with him."

"He'll be angry," I answered.

"So? Let him. He's arranged this so that only he benefits from this marriage. You deserve a piece of the action."

He twirled me around until our lips were just inches apart, then with an almost evil grin, he kissed me, and I kissed him back. As the guests hooted and hollered, we gave them a good show, then he stood up and pumped his fist in time to the bass beat in the song. I looked at my dad again and he was livid. Before the wedding, I would have been terrified of my dad being like this but maybe the three shots, the kiss, and the encouragement of my fake husband changed something because I suddenly didn't care what my father thought. Pumping my fist and jumping in time to the music I joined Bucky as we continued our entry dance around the room, before finally collapsing into our seats at the head table. He pushed my water glass to me, while he drank his then leaned close to me again.

"The trick to partying is to stay hydrated," he said. "Always drink water when you drink alcohol. It takes care of the hangover as well."

The evening went way too fast as we ate, drank, danced our first dance (Perfect by Ed Sheeran), then cut the cake, threw the garter and the bouquet. Every time my father tried to come over to me, Bucky whisked me away to dance or to meet some of his friends. When it was time for us to make our getaway, he picked me up, threw me over his shoulder and carried me out to the limousine, making me laugh. As soon as we got inside, he told the driver where to take us, then took my hand and kissed it. If I hadn't known better, I would swear that this was a man that really loved me. By the time we got to the hotel, I was quiet again, realizing that everything that Bucky did that night was a lie. It was fun but it was still a lie.

We checked in, went up to the hotel room, where our bags had already been dropped off, and Bucky tipped the bell boy before locking the door. Then he sat on a couch and patted the seat beside him. I didn't come over right away and he looked at me with puppy dog eyes, so I sat next to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"Are you always this good of an actor? You had me believing for a moment that you ... that we were real."

"We are legally married," he answered. "I wasn't acting. I had a good time tonight. At first, I thought you were kind of a stick in the mud, but I realized that you just haven't really lived. You've been kept on a pretty short leash by your family, haven't you?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?" I sighed. "I don't like confrontation and I tend to let people have their way."

He nodded his head. "Like me. I'm sorry. I was just trying to get you to have a good time. You did have a good time, right?" Bucky was right about that as I did have a good time. I nodded. "Look, if there is anything good to come out of this arrangement one of them will be you allowing yourself to have fun. No matter what happens, I kind of like you, so if we become friends from this, I'll be very happy. Finally, getting you what is due to you is the top priority. I'm not going to let your father cheat you out of what was negotiated."

I smiled at him, then bent over and undid my shoes, slipping them off. Bucky gestured to his lap, and I changed positions, so my feet lay on top of his legs. Gently, he took one foot in his hands and began to massage it. I groaned and made a face as he hit every spot that was sore, making it feel so much better. When he was finished with that, he did the other foot. When I withdrew my feet from his hands, he got up and went to the bathroom, coming out drying his hands on a towel.

"I've drawn you a bath," he said. "Take your time, play your favourite playlist and I'll get set up out here."

"I thought ...." I looked at him, puzzled.

"What kind of husband would I be if I abandoned you on our wedding night? We won't have sex, but we can sleep in the same bed. I'm tired and it's been a long day."

Opening my bag, I took out my toiletries and pyjamas. He grinned at the pink elephants on them, then showed me his pyjama bottoms, with cookies on them. I chuckled, then went to the bathroom and closed the door. When I came out half an hour later, Bucky was changed into his bottoms and a plain white T-shirt, there was soft music playing and a bottle of champagne was open. On top of the bed was a plate of chocolate covered strawberries. Patting the space next to him, he offered me a hand as I crawled on, then poured me a glass of champagne. Holding our glasses up he made a toast.

"Here's to having a good time together, not a long time," he said. "Hopefully, we come out of this as friends because good friends are rare, and you can never have enough good friends."

We sipped the champagne, then he held a strawberry for me as I bit into it, before popping the rest of it in his mouth with a cheeky grin. For an hour we talked about ourselves, growing up in families that were focused on business more than anything else. I learned that Bucky lost his mother at a young age when she died of cancer. He went to boarding school, which he admitted could have made him bitter, but he formed some deep friendships and found some adults to have a meaningful substitute parent relationship with. His college years were spent mostly partying, but he did enough work to get his degree in finance and understood enough about business to agree that this marriage arrangement would keep both of our father's companies from inflicting fatal blows on each other. As I told him about being the quiet child in the family who seemed to always be ignored and forgotten when decisions were made, he frowned and held my hand, kissing it from time to time.

It was easy to talk to him and I cried a little that night. But he comforted me and when my yawns started coming more, he insisted I get under the covers. We curled up and faced each other in the dark. Before I closed my eyes he whispered.

"Sleep tight, pretty girl."

No one had ever called me pretty before.

For the next month, Bucky was pretty attentive. My father finally succeeded in cornering me to ask what the hell I was trying to do by bringing up the divorce agreement. Maybe being so much in Bucky's presence had rubbed off on me because I asked him why the lawyer thought I signed the money over to him. He grabbed my wrist and began to twist it when my husband walked in and quickly grabbed my father's wrist, surprising him with the strength of his grip.

"You don't ever touch my wife like that again," said Bucky, gritting his teeth a little. "I brought up the divorce agreement and was shocked that a father would be so cold-hearted to his daughter to literally try to pick her pocket before she even had any money in it. You want this deal to go through? Then you restore the agreement to what I signed; the money belongs to her. Otherwise, we get an annulment, and you get nothing."

"You can't annul the marriage," huffed my father. "You were together on the wedding night."

"We were but we didn't consummate the marriage," replied Bucky, throwing daggers at my father with his bright blue eyes. "Make sure you amend that divorce agreement and I want to be there when my wife signs it. You got that?"

He released my father, put his arm around me and led me away. We signed the amended agreement two days later that stipulated the money, house, car and child support, when we divorced, would go to me and only me.

Once a week, Bucky went out with his friends, partying. He always wore his wedding ring when the paparazzi took photographs of him and for quite a while he was careful, as there were no pictures of him going off with another woman. I knew he was seeing them, because he would come home smelling of their perfume, before he showered, put on his funky pyjama bottoms and slipped into bed, usually spooning behind me, something that he said he liked even though we had separate bedrooms.

Since the marriage agreement called for two children, Bucky arranged for us to visit the IVF clinic and we both underwent testing. He must have paid the doctor and staff there a lot of money to keep their questions to themselves because none of them ever said anything about why two healthy individuals who just got married didn't make a baby the old-fashioned way. I had to undergo shots to stimulate my ovaries so they could harvest multiple eggs. Then Bucky provided them with semen to fertilize the eggs in preparation for insertion into my uterus. Over the next few months, none of them implanted and I began to develop anxiety about it. He was great, never once blaming me. There were even a couple of occasions when he didn't go out with his friends and stayed home to comfort me when my period started, dashing our hopes once again.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, I realized something, about how I felt about him. It wasn't something I expected, falling in love with a man who made it clear from the start that friendship would be the most he could offer me. For as long as I could, I kept it to myself, not wanting to appear needy to Bucky. He had been wonderful and so kind to me. But after that realization, every time I saw him get ready to go out and knew that he would return smelling of someone else, it was inevitable that I finally said something.

"Don't go out," I whispered, one night, just as he came out of his bedroom, dressed in one of his Armani suits. "Please."

He looked at me as if I was joking then saw the pain in my eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting next to me.

"Stay home," I answered. "Don't go out with your friends tonight."

"I have to," he said. "We're on the VIP list at a new club opening. I'll be back before morning. After a little sleep-in we can spend the day together, maybe take a drive out to the coast." He smoothed my hair, then kissed my forehead. "Sleep tight, pretty girl."

He left without a backwards glance, and I cried. It wasn't the first time, and it wouldn't be the last, especially when the paparazzi succeeded in acquiring a picture of Bucky and a starlet kissing each other. He apologized but the crack between us was there, and it would only get worse. The night it was the worst was the night I almost died.

We were supposed to be at a charity event together, but he texted to say he was running late, and he would meet me there. Of course, when I showed up without him, I was swarmed by photographers, all of them asking where Bucky was and who he was with. Ignoring them as best as I could I entered the venue and was shown to my table, seated with several other wives of prominent individuals. Even though I had improved my social skills and learned to have more fun, these women weren't inclined to be friendly and after enduring their whispered comments with no word from Bucky I decided to go home. A car service had dropped me off but expecting Bucky to arrive in his car we didn't book a return trip. There were no taxis available, so I began to walk, trying to hail one as I walked. Somewhere, along the way, I began to cry like the pathetic little individual I always knew I was. Funny how quickly I crumbled, when I figured that even Bucky had enough of me.

I woke up in the emergency room, with a bright light glaring down on me, a collar around my neck, a tube down my throat and IVs in my arms. A doctor leaned over me until I looked at him then began asking me questions, but I couldn't speak, not with the tube blocking my voice. He told me I walked out into traffic without looking and was hit by a car. My heart stopped twice but they brought me back. Was there anyone they should call? I tried to point at my wedding ring as Bucky was the only person I wanted to see, but my arms were splinted as apparently, I thrashed around too much when I was out. He figured it out and held up my phone. Painfully, I signalled the code numbers with my fingers, and he unlocked it then phoned Bucky. Returning a moment later he bent over me again.

"He's on his way. Hang in there, okay? Nothing's broken but you do have internal injuries."

I moaned since there was really no other way to communicate. I must have fallen asleep or passed out because when I woke up again, I was in an ICU hospital room, there were the sounds of several monitors, and Bucky was sitting on a chair, with his head in his hands. He looked up at a sound I must have made and immediately came to my side, placing his hand on mine. All I saw in his eyes were guilt and sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he said. "This is all my fault. I was supposed to be there with you, but I let others distract me and before I even realized that I had missed the whole event I got the call from the doctor."

I closed my eyes, feeling the tears streaming down from them. His apology, though sincere, really meant nothing. He promised to be my friend and instead, he did what my family had done my whole life, ignored me. To me, it was proof that I was truly meaningless in this world, that I was insignificant. I felt a cloth on my face and opened my eyes to see Bucky wiping my tears away with a washcloth. Painfully, I turned my head away from him.

"Please, don't," he begged. "Don't be angry with me. I fucked up. I know I did. I thought we could get through the two years and be friends, but I haven't been a good friend to you."

I still didn't look at him. I wasn't angry but I was disappointed. He tried to take my hand in his, but I pulled it away, bringing a distressed sound out of him. It must have affected me because a nurse came in to check the monitors and suggested that Bucky go home and come back in the morning. He put up an argument, but she convinced him that I needed to rest. Reluctantly, he agreed and bent over me, kissing me on the forehead.

"I'll do all I can to make it up to you," he whispered. "You were the last person I ever wanted to hurt."

He left then and I eventually fell asleep. Those first few days he was there from early in the morning until late at night. His father visited the second day, and I was aware of a fairly emotional whispered conversation between him and Bucky. None of my family visited. Three days in they took the tube out of my throat, confident that my bruised lungs and ribs were strong enough for me to breathe on my own. It still hurt to speak, almost as much as I was hurting emotionally. Bucky watched me with glassy eyes after the doctor and nurse left, seeming almost afraid to say anything. I looked at him, and the tears began to fall again, in earnest this time. Even though my body hurt I sobbed, and he was right there, his chair pulled up to the edge of the bed, kissing my hand.

"How can I make it better?" he asked. "Please, tell me."

"You won't," I answered, my voice raspy. "You made it clear from our wedding day that you weren't the faithful type. We can't be friends anymore."

"No, please, don't say that," he pleaded. "I need you. Don't you know that?"

I shook my head. "I don't know anything anymore; except every time you walk out the door to be with someone else it hurts so much. Loving you wasn't supposed to happen, but it did."

"You love me?" he asked, not quite believing what I was saying.

I looked away, then nodded my head. "You were nicer to me than anyone I ever met. Then suddenly you were gone more and then you didn't show up last night."

I covered my face with my hands and wept. The edge of the bed dipped slightly as he sat there, then he was carefully lifting me up in his arms to hold me.

"I'm sorry." He stroked my hair. "You know there are times I wake up at night and you're talking in your sleep. Strange, weird stuff, about kangaroos and jungle roads, and stuffing your face with hot dogs at a ball game. One night, I spoke to you, and we carried on a weird conversation. When I finally said you should go back to sleep, you said okay. Then you said good night and that you loved me. Just the way you said it I knew you were telling the truth. It frightened me because I'm not a good person. I party and sleep around too much, I spend money like it will never end, and I never once told anyone other than my mother that I loved them. She died, and it got into my head that if I loved someone, I would lose them someday." He touched my wedding ring, running his fingertip on it. "Then I almost lost you and I never once told you that I was falling in love with you, a love that I was scared to feel."

"You don't love me," I scoffed.

"I love that you listen to me and follow my lead, even when you really don't want to at first. I love your goofy pyjamas and how cuddly they make you feel when you're sleeping in my arms. I love that I would rather ... be here in the hospital begging for your forgiveness and love, than partying with people who only want to ignore the real world. With you, I have real fun, where I laugh and feel good about helping you and being there for you, because that makes me feel good about myself."

"That's not love," I murmured.

"Maybe not but I know that I don't want to be anywhere but near you."

I looked at him, truly looked at him and saw a man with bags under his bloodshot eyes, his hair was sticking out at odd angles because he had fallen asleep in the armchair of the hospital room, and he had several days of beard stubble on his face because he hadn't shaved. This from a man who took pride in how he looked. He wasn't dressed well, like he normally was when he appeared in public. He looked like a mess, and it was because he loved me, and thought he had lost me.

"Do you think we could start over?" he asked, those puppy dog eyes suddenly prominent, even in their bloodshot state. "After you get better, we can go away and just be ourselves, without any family or the business bothering us. I don't care where and it doesn't have to be fancy or expensive. I just want to be with you."

"No more partying with your friends at nightclubs?" I asked. "No more sleeping with other women? Just you and me?"

"Just you and me," he repeated. "The only person I want to sleep with is you, when you're ready."

I couldn't help it. I sobbed again and began to cry. Immediately, Bucky began to kiss my face. Then he looked in my eyes, placed his hand on my cheek and kissed me for real, a soft and sweet kiss that said I was the most important person in his world.

He was as good as his word. Once I was released, he leased a guest house on the coast. It was quiet, far enough away from the other houses on that stretch of windswept beach that we could pretend we were alone. We visited farmer's markets, picking up fresh food for meals that Bucky cooked for me, trying but not always succeeding in his attempts. It didn't matter because we were together and that was the real reason we were there. We walked; short distances at first as I got my strength back, then longer where we would take our time and pick up interesting shells and rocks on the beach. Sometimes we kept them, sometimes we tossed them back into the ocean. Not once did he look at his cellphone. In fact, the charge ran out and he left it on the kitchen counter as a reminder that he wanted all of his attention on me. At night, we curled up in front of the fireplace until I fell asleep, and he would carry me in his arms to bed, helping me into my comfy pyjamas, before changing into his own and spooning behind me.

One night we had a storm, with pounding waves, thunder and lightning, and a wind that rattled every window in the house. He held me until I fell asleep. When I woke up, I looked at his sleeping face, admiring his straight nose, defined cheekbones, and the cleft in his chin. He must have sensed I was looking at him because he opened his eyes, those blue grey eyes that seemed to change colour like the ocean did whenever it was peaceful or angry. There must have been something in my eyes that morning because Bucky kissed me differently, then looked at me in a way he never had before. As his hands moved under my top, and caressed my skin, he shifted so that he was looking over me. I nodded yes, and he smiled softly, before kissing me again and pressing his body against mine.

As pieces of clothing were discarded, we explored each other's bodies, responding with soft sounds as we awakened our sensuous side. It was lovemaking that started out slowly, then built in intensity as Bucky showed me physically how much I meant to him. I had never been that intimate with anyone before, even though I thought I had with the few boyfriends of my limited experience. None of the others made me feel what he did and any last doubts I may have had about his devotion to me were erased. I was in love, truly in love for the first time and so was Bucky.

For six weeks we lived in this bubble where only we existed. Then Bucky plugged his phone in, and all the notifications sounded, one after another for almost an hour. He deleted the ones from his partying friends. They were part of his past now. There were a couple from my father, demanding to know where we were. Then there were the others from his father and lawyers. As he read them, he sighed then looked at me and sat in an armchair, pulling me onto his lap.

"When you were in the ICU, I asked my father for a favour," he said. "I asked him how we could take over your father's company."

"Why?" I asked. "Our marriage was the agreement to keep the competition equal with him, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, it was but when I demanded that your father amend that divorce agreement, he did something stupid and frankly, unethical. He entered into a secret agreement with an overseas company and contracted with them to provide him with the same product at a fraction of the cost. They aren't the same quality, but he is selling them for a bit less than ours, and he makes more profit on them. It's cut into our profits. We'll be alright because Dad's R&D division are already testing the update that would have been brought out at the end of the two years when we were originally going to get divorced. Of course, now, we're not getting divorced."

"We're not?" I asked, my heart racing a little.

"Nope. You've got me for life." He shrugged. "But it means you don't get your 100 million, although you do get a house and car. They were my late wedding presents to you." He cleared his throat. "Do you know how your father has his company structured?"

"No, I assumed he owns and runs it himself," I said.

"Well, he is CEO, but he doesn't exactly own it, at least not all of it," said Bucky. "It's actually shared between your dad, your siblings and yourself. He's never paid you dividends or anything from the company, has he?"

"No, I didn't know any of it," I said. "I feel stupid now, but I always assumed he had total control."

"I think you were kept in deliberate ignorance of it, and he used some shady tax loopholes to keep the money that was yours out of your hands. It doesn't appear he did the same thing to your siblings which led me to wonder why he has always seemed to be so cold-hearted to you."

It was true, my dad never really liked me. I was aware of that from my earliest memories. Bucky's hand on my mine drew my attention back to him.

"He's not your dad." I opened my mouth then closed it. "He was married to your mother when you were born but your father was someone else. The company was her's and he had no choice but to declare you as his daughter at your birth. When she died, she left the company divided up between all of you."

"My mother's not dead," I said.

"She's not your mother, she's your stepmother," he replied. "Originally, she was your dad's mistress. He married her a month after your mother died, when you were two years old. Since then, your father has cheated you out of everything that should have been yours."

"What do I do?" I asked.

"You could launch takeover plans of your own, but I think it would expose you to investigation and possibly prosecution if the full story of how your father operates becomes public." That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing considering how he cheated me. Bucky smiled a little. "I think you should turn him in. Report him to the FBI, the IRS, and any other regulatory agency that oversees corporations. They'll freeze all the assets of the company while they investigate and once they confirm what my dad found out; you won't be a subject of investigation. You'll be recognized as a victim of a long-term plan to swindle you out of your inheritance. You can even bring a private civil suit against him. At the least it will expose your father and your family to some pretty intense public scrutiny. There might be some criticism about you, but I'll be with you while this happens, and I won't let anyone associate you with them."

I considered his words. For someone who said he barely passed his university courses he sounded pretty sure of himself and of what we should do. Just at that moment I felt like I had to throw up and I ran from him to the bathroom, emptying my stomach. His hands were on my hair, gently pulling it back so it didn't get soiled. Then he gave me a glass of water as I sat on the floor. A strange but satisfied smile was on his face.

"You haven't had a period since we first got here," he said.

I stopped drinking the water and looked up at him. "Do you think I'm pregnant?"

He shrugged then kneeled down to play with the ends of my hair. "Maybe. We can pick up a pregnancy test on the trip back to the city."

Something occurred to me. "The grandchildren clause ... who asked for that?"

He smiled. "My dad. I'm an only child so he wanted to make sure that I had heirs before I died because of my partying ways. If you are pregnant, I'll be happy and so will he. I'm going to be more involved in the company but not to the extent that you feel left out. In fact, my dad thinks you might be a good fit for the Board of Directors. We can work together and take over managing it when he retires."

"I don't know anything about business," I protested.

"I'll teach you," he smiled. "Say yes, to staying as my wife, the mother of my child, and partner in business. There's no one else I want to have it all with."

I agreed and his smile lit me up inside. When we returned to the city, the lawyers that his dad retained helped me turn my father and siblings in for the irregularities of how they ran my mother's business. Like Bucky said, several agencies became interested, and they confirmed that I had been cheated out of tens of millions of dollars worth of income and compensation. There were many shady deals they engaged in, and even the ones that weren't shady, like the marriage arrangement between Bucky and me, weren't always honoured. It took a long time for the whole thing to wind its way through the legal system but when it did, it was my company, and mine alone, as the Board of Directors fired my father and siblings after they were forced to divest their holdings in order to pay years of back taxes on the income they didn't declare. When Bucky's father, George Barnes, proposed a merger I accepted, being offered the position of Chief Ethics Officer in the combined companies.

There was something else that happened. On the way home from the coast, we stopped and picked up a home pregnancy test. The next morning, we waited as the stick processed the urine sample. The word Pregnant appeared and we accepted that our life was going to change. Bucky left behind the party lifestyle completely, becoming the partner in life I had always dreamed of. When our son was born, he was hands on as a father and stayed that way with each child we had, four in all. Some people said we lived a charmed life, but it wasn't always that way.

I never felt truly loved until I survived my accident and confessed my love to my husband. Bucky, who had dealt with his own trauma of his mother's death and being sent to boarding school at a young age, had lived a life of shallowness, afraid to truly be intimate with anyone, until he almost lost me. Our sham marriage ultimately brought him and his father closer together, healing the rift that had kept them apart. With the trust we built between us we formed a new family, made richer by the birth of our children. Although my biological father was dead, he did have children, born after his affair with my mother. We got along well, and they became my new siblings. Whatever cold-hearted life I suffered before I agreed to marry a man I didn't know didn't matter, as Bucky and I showered our own family with all the love we could muster. Above all else, we were happy.

One shots masterlist

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[betterthanyalls]

Happy Valentines day!!! This is a gift for my platonic valentine!!! Love u pookie

Fake Proposals

Words: 1.5K

Published: 2-14-2024

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

“This is such a bad idea.”

"Oh, c'mon, Peach! It’s free food!”

“If it works, which it probably won’t,” Y/n explained to her boyfriend, "plus, aren’t you a demon? Can you not just disguise yourself and steal the food?”

“Where’s the fun in that? Have some faith, Peaches!” Wukong encouraged, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend's shoulder. He held Y/n tight and guided her into the high-class restaurant that stood tall in front of them. Wukong let go of Y/n, to his dismay, so he could hold the door open for her. He may be an egotistical demon, but he knows how to treat the love of his immortal life.

Y/n smiled at her partner’s kind gesture, “Thank you, love,” and entered the small entrance of the restaurant. When Wukong entered, his hand instantly found its way to Y/n’s, holding her in a tight yet gentle grip. The couple stood near the host stand, waiting for a server to come to seat them. They stood there for around five minutes until Wukong started getting impatient. His foot was tapping rapidly on the ground, and his tail was swaying, brushing Y/n’s leg every few passes. Noticing this, Y/n lightly squeezed his hand in a few pulses. Her eyes watched as Wukong’s tail slowed its sways and his foot stopped tapping.

Smiling softly, the young woman cast a glance at her boyfriend. She saw how he was looking around, trying to spot any servers standing around. Eventually, someone who looked like a hostess walked up to them.

“I am so sorry for making you wait! I was told someone would cover me when I’m on break, but I guess not,” the girl, who looked the same age as Y/n, spoke quickly. Y/n observed how the girl kept taking glances at Wukong, each one longer than the last. Normally, Y/n wouldn’t mind people looking at her boyfriend; he was a demon after all, but this girl had a different emotion in her expression. Y/n read the girl’s name tag and couldn’t help but notice how much the girl looked like Y/n. ‘Analise’, was the name carved into the metal tag. “That’s ok, my boyfriend and I would just like a couple table. Please,” Y/n spoke through a strained smile, moving closer to Wukong.

Wukong, somehow, didn’t take notice of the way Analise stared at him or how Y/n moved closer. “Right away,” Analise glared at Y/n before turning and guiding them to a nearby table made for two. As they walked, Y/n gripped Wukong’s hand tighter. She could see from her peripheral view when her boyfriend looked down at their hands and looked at her face. Y/n looked at him when he mouthed a question, ‘You okay?’. Now that Wukong knew she saw him, Y/n couldn’t ignore the question. Looking at Analise, who was still walking in front of the two, Y/n let out a sigh and shook her head, ‘No’. Wukong’s eyes held hers, filled with sympathy and understanding, and simply nodded. It didn’t take long for them to reach a two-person table in the center of the restaurant. Y/n smiled when she saw the mischievous grin spread across her lover’s lips.

“Here you are, sir... and ma’am,” Analise finished her sentence with resentment. Hearing this, Y/n gave the worker a tight, sour smile before sitting down across from her partner. Analise left the couple to view their menus and choose the food. Scanning the options, Y/n paused when she felt a foot tapping hers. Looking up, she was met with Wukong’s iconic smirk. “So, my dear Y/n was jealous of some random girl?” His tone was laced with tease as he smiled at her. Y/n rolled her eyes and softly kicked her demon lover, a small smile forming on her lips as she looked away to hide it. “Shut up, just stick to the plan, ok?” The young woman spoke through her embarrassment, still not meeting Wukong’s eyes.

Y/n heard his chuckle and the shuffling of fabric. Looking up, she watched as her boyfriend pulled a small black box from his pocket and set it on the table with a mischievous grin. The two looked around, trying to see if any staff was nearby to see the plan in action. “I think that’s the manager right there,” Y/n discreetly pointed to a man standing about a table or two away. Looking back to her partner, Y/n nodded to him with him doing the same in response. Clearing his throat to gain nearby attention, Wukong stood up and took the box. Walking over to Y/n, he knelt in front of her. She could see a glimmer in his eyes as emotions danced like lightning on his expression.

“Y/n M/n L/n, we have been through thick and thin together. I can’t even fathom how you could survive with someone like me and yet you do it anyways. You have always meant the most to me; the flame to my candle, the moon to my sun, the rainbow to my cloud. I can’t explain in words how much you mean to me, it’s simply impossible. You deserve everything in this whole messed-up universe and I will make it my goal to deliver it all to you. Anything you want, it’s yours. I’m lost without you, Peach. I want to be your crutch, your support; the one you rely on when you can’t even rely on yourself. I may not understand everything but I will do anything to let you show me. I am willing to change anything just for you to glance at me. The longing I get when you have to leave from a date or when I can’t look at you for even a moment. Your eyes, your hair, your cheeks, your nose, your arms, your everything. I love every little detail about yourself. All your flaws are gone, you never had any to begin with. I know you might not be able to see yourself the way I see you but I want to let you even get at least a glimpse of how I see you. You are so perfect to me that even the stars moon and sun envy you. You shine your light of kindness and care to anyone, proving anyone can be themself around you. I feel so safe with you and I want you to feel that around me. Y/n M/n L/n, I want to spend the rest of my life with you and I will do anything to make you mine. So, what do you say?”

Shock and embarrassment overwhelmed Y/n. She had expected some cheesy speech, but the way he said it and the way his eyes glowed. Y/n knew he meant every single word and it left her speechless. Her mouth opened slightly, trying to say something but no words or sounds came out. Wukong held an expectant look like he didn’t think this whole spiel would catch you off guard. The whole restaurant was looking at the two of you. The suspense was thick in the air and even the blind could see the anticipation. Finally, Y/n found her voice.

“Yes,” She whispered before making her voice audible, “yes! 100 times yes!” Wukong stood up and brought her up with him before picking Y/n up and spinning her around. Laughter echoed from them as the restaurant erupted into cheers and applause. A huge smile graced both the couple's faces when Wukong slid the ring onto Y/n's ring finger. The duo hugged tightly before feeling a hand on both their shoulders, it was the manager. At first, they thought their plan had been a success until the manager pointed to an extremely small sign across the room that read, ‘NO ROMANCE ON PREMISE!’. “Well, that’s ironic.”

Now walking hand in hand down the dark street, Y/n and Wukong just talked. “I wanted that free food,” Y/n complained. “I know Peach, but I can just steal some food from Pizza Hut or something if you would like,” her boyfriend shrugged. Pausing in her steps, Y/n looked at Wukong with an ‘Are you serious?’ expression. “What?” “Why didn’t you just do that earlier before we got kicked out?!” Y/n exclaimed to her clueless boyfriend. “I…uhhh….” Wukong stumbled on his words, trying to find a reason before Y/n found the truth. “Wait a second,” Y/n spoke, a smirk forming on her face and turning to her lover, “did you just do all this so you could propose to me but not officially?” Wukong was looking everywhere but his girlfriend now and not answering her question. Y/n smiled softly at her flustered partner before taking his face in her palms and giving Wukong a soft kiss on the cheek, ruffling the fur atop his head when she leaned back. Y/n chuckled a little before she turned and kept walking, leaving a stunned Monkey King behind her.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [20]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: description of injuries, language, spoilers for S3 The Mandalorian, mentions of death experiences, anxiety, PTSD references

Word Count: 5,066

Updates every Thursday

#20: SHORT STICK BEARS HIS WRATH

.

"you can't heal if you pretend you're not hurt." -aliza grace

.

Grogu had a habit of making friends wherever he went. So, it didn’t surprise Din to see that a bulk of Ari’s crew were gushing over his son and offering him different things to play with. After parking the N1 and walking to the address Ari messaged him, what looked like an old fighting gym, he entered to see a small group of people surrounding Grogu who stood on the table and babbled. They listened intently, cooed back to him, and offered him a variety of objects to either eat or play with.

Din’s eyes landed on Ari who was sitting in a desk chair, feet kicked up and ankles crossed, while frowning at the sight. When her gaze drifted toward him she blew out an annoyed breath of air. “Finally. Can you please take your son and go? It seems while he’s around my crew is,” Ari turned to yell out the next words at the people surrounding Grogu, “Incapable of doing their kriffing jobs!”

“The stressors of running a criminal empire.” Din snorted.

“Aw, you think my little show is an empire?” Ari grinned impishly. “That’s cute. I appreciate it, but I don’t think I’ve reached that level of notoriety yet.”

“Yeah, well, I have faith in you.”

Din knew her main skill set was in smuggling. He assumed that’s what she was still doing, just branching out and roping others in. Still, Din wasn’t too worried about breaking up her party or shining a spotlight down on her. Of all the evil Din had seen in the galaxy, Ari was harmless. Well, mostly harmless.

“Hey boss, can we keep it?” A large man turned and pointed to Grogu who had his hands up in the air as he babbled about a story.

“Him, you idiot.” Ari corrected. “It’s Mando’s son.”

“Oh, sorry.” The man replied. “Can we keep him?”

“See what I mean? Useless.” Ari scoffed. Din called out for Grogu who took the time to gather up all the snacks being offered to him then jumped into his pram to drift over. Ari crossed her arms and snapped for the others to get back to their jobs. They gradually drifted away. She looked at him. “So? How’s the doc?”

Din tilted his head. “Left him thirty minutes outside the city to crawl back.”

“That all?”

“I may have…” Din chose his words carefully. “Stacked the odds against him.” Ari chuckled in amusement and he nodded. “I need you to keep an eye on that for me.”

“How so?”

“Make sure there’s a corpse, and if there isn’t,” Din shrugged nonchalantly, “Make one.”

The request rolled off his tongue as if he were in Nevarro going to his neighbor’s house to ask for some sugar. Din saw no issue in his request. If he wasn’t on such a time crunch in his eagerness to return to you then he’d stick around and double check for himself. 

Ari nodded. “Alright. I’m counting that as two favors now though. So, you owe me.” Din dragged his helmeted gaze to look at her and raised an eyebrow in skepticism as if she’d be able to see. Ari read the tone enough to snicker. “Fine. Fine. We’re even then.”

“Deal.”

“So,” Ari whistled, “If you and your ‘not wife’ ever tie the knot will I get invited to the wedding? Do Mandalorians have weddings?” 

“Stop talking.” Din shook his head and turned to leave. He chuckled under his breath. Grogu followed after him⏤ the child’s cheeks full of some local dessert. Great, now he’d be bouncing around the cockpit of the N1 for Maker knows how long.

Ari called a good-bye after him as he left. “Nice seeing you too, Mando! Safe travels!”

Nima told you not to freak out. Her exact words had been, ‘Alright, everything is okay and you are safe and it’s all going to be fine but you need to know this’. Your first horrific thought was that the news would somehow involve your boys. It had been a knee jerk fear that filled your entire soul with dread. Then Nima followed it up with, ‘Kurt’s trial was put on hold’.

And, as wild as it was, you felt relief. That had been your initial reaction. Before Nevarro, hearing those words would have made you immediately throw up. But in this situation, all you could think was how grateful you were that the bad news didn’t involve Din or Grogu.

“I’m sorry.” Nima murmured and you could see how devastated she was to share this news with you. She was the kind of person who felt every emotion she had so deeply. It’s why she was so lively and bubbly as her day to day happiness shined through. However, in moments like this, it broke your heart to see her so empathetic to your own pain. “I went back and forth on telling you, but you made me swear to update you on any news I thought was important and this seemed important. Plus, I didn’t want you to hear on accident from somewhere else or⏤”

“Nima.” You reached out to squeeze her arm and gave her a smile. “It’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” The longer the news lingered in your mind the more it began to unravel your sense of peace. “What happened? Do we know why?”

She shook her head. “They won’t report it yet. Just that it’s delayed.”

Could trials be delayed right in the middle of it? You didn’t know a lot about law or the system surrounding it. Nima was rambling about something or another, trying to bring you comfort, but your thoughts drifted away. You wished Din were here. That wasn’t a surprising thought. Every single day since they left, multiple times a day really, you’d see something or think of something that made you crave their presence more than the baseline. Just yesterday you bought a bag of Grogu’s favorite blue cookies from the sandwich shop just for the hell of it. 

You heard your name, mumbled in concern, and your focus snapped back to Nima who was staring at you as if she was waiting for you to crumble. Slowly, you could feel the edges of your nerves beginning to fray, but that’s what work was for right? Distract you from all those dangerous thoughts and fears.

“Seriously. I am okay.” You reassured her once more. “This stays between us, right?”

“Of course.”

Your day carried on as if the news hadn't been shared with you. It would be the one day you wanted to keep busy that all of Nevarro decided to be the picture perfect definition of health. It was in part due to the droid being repaired which took off a lot of lower level urgent cases rather than emergent and it even saw some people with active conditions routinely. That would be it's primary purpose until the new guy that Karga hired eventually got out here.

When you went home for the night, you had only been moving around the kitchen for a few minutes, getting dinner ready, when your com rang for a holocall. You set your armband on the island counter to stand and answer. Grogu’s face immediately filled the entire screen with a loud ‘Ma!’ which pulled a laugh out of you. You needed that. 

“Grogu, share.” Din replied though you could only barely see him behind Grogu’s face.

“No.” Grogu replied simply before he began to babble about his day. He was getting better at expressing himself every day and you were picking up on words like ‘new friends’, ‘more food’, and even something that sounded like he was trying to tell you there was someone he didn’t like. Din sighed loudly, but you could hear the amusement in his tone.

“Uh huh.” You nodded your head, giving the little green boy your full attention, “Tell Ma all about it, baby.” It wasn’t until a solid five to ten minutes later that Grogu was appeased with the amount of attention from you that he was willing to share with his father. He wiggled out of the camera’s space so you could actually see Din, and the boy waved with a quick ‘Love Ma!’. You actually felt your heart tighten in your chest. “Love you too, baby.”

Grogu crawled away, probably to stir up trouble where he could find it on the small ship, and you bit back tears. The longer you sat with the news about Kurt the more you felt wired and anxious. Getting to talk to Grogu and see the cheerful boy made a world of difference.

“Mama’s boy.” You heard Din mutter with a chuckle while watching Grogu crawl away to wherever he went. His gaze quickly focused back on you and he let out a soft sigh. “Ner kar’ta. How was your day?”

“It was fine.” You leaned against the counter.

For the next half hour, you and Din talked about anything and everything. He told you about how the rest of his trip on that Outer Rim planet went, and he told you he dealt with Daelar. Din didn’t give you details on the specific, but you found that you didn’t really need them. You didn’t really care. Then you told him about your day, but gradually the two of you got off topic and trailed on about other things. Din was speaking, you could hear the sound of his comforting voice, but you found yourself accidentally zoning out. Your mind not falling into a specific thought, but just drifting away. It wasn’t until the third time that Din called out to you that you realized he had been doing so in the first place.

“Hm? Sorry.” You shook your head.

Even through a holocall, halfway across the galaxy, you could see the worry that Din wore. He had shifted forward in his seat, elbows on his knees, and there was a tension in his shoulders. If that didn’t give him away then the tilt in his head and the tone of his voice did. “What’s wrong? You’re troubled.” He didn’t ask if you were troubled. He just knew you were. “Tell me. Are you okay?”

“I am. I promise.” You replied. The last thing you wanted to do was worry him. Knowing Din, if you told him about Kurt he would do something drastic like immediately come back to Nevarro. Which, on one hand, was tempting, but it would just mean he’d need to leave again. Plus, you knew how important this mission was to him. You were not going to intercede with your own issues and drama. So, you decided on a lie of omission. “This afternoon there had been a patient with a chronic illness I didn’t remember much of. He was also Rodian and their anatomy is a blur to me. So, it was a lot of research and just working on the fly and I guess my brain just won’t let it go. I’m second guessing myself.”

Din’s entire body relaxed, but he stayed leaned over so he was closer to the camera⏤ closer to you. “Don’t. You’re incredible at what you do and immensely clever when you need to think on the spot.” You felt your cheeks warm at his blatant complements. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re the greatest physician in the galaxy.”

You snorted. “Right. And that’s your totally unbiased opinion.” Din nodded. “All that medical knowledge you have makes you an expert in that decision.”

“I have twenty plus years of working a cautery, thank you.” Din replied with a chuckle.

“Yes. Obviously, so qualified.”

“Fine.” Din’s voice took a teasing edge. “You’re the best physician in all of Nevarro. Is that better?”

You let out a loud laugh and just as it had eased your anxious heart with Grogu, Din settled your soul as well.  Din was immensely proud of himself. You could see the smug air about him even through the holocall. When your laughter died down, you rested your chin on your hand to hold up your head.

“I miss you.” You mumbled.

Din sighed. “I miss you too, ner kar’ta. But it won’t be much longer.” You perked up. “I am stopping to speak to an…old friend.” The way he said the words made you doubt that this person was an actual friend⏤ or that the relationship was tumultuous at best. “Then on to Mandalore.”

A soft smile filled your features at the news. 

“Ma! Ma!” Grogu was yelling again as he tried to get into the picture.

Din scooped the boy up to set him on his laugh and playfully scolded. “You had your turn, ad’ika. It’s my turn with Ma.”

“No. Me.” Grogu argued.

You watched in amusement as Din continued to tease Grogu into a silly argument on who got to have your attention. Maker, you needed them back soon.

Ever since Nima shared the news about Kurt, nightmares plagued you. It was an odd mix of past and future. Some nights Kurt would be carving into you, telling you that you didn’t deserve to live, and other nights you’d have to watch helplessly as he hurt Din and Grogu.

You preferred the nights where Kurt made you bleed.

That added to the fact that while on Mandalore Din was not going to be able to call you due to interference really distracted you. Sleep deprived and anxiety riddled while working in a clinic with medical tools was not the ideal combination. The bacta tank needed refreshing in case of emergencies and during a quiet moment in the office you had told Aayla you planned to get it done. It was dirty work, cleaning the bacta filters, but you didn’t mind it. You hoped forward motion, keeping yourself busy, would keep you awake and sane.

So, when your hand slipped on the mechanism, causing the thick filter door to slam shut on your hand, it had been entirely your own fault.

"Fuck!" You screamed in agony as you felt the bones in your fingers snap. Blinded by the panic, your natural instinct was to try to pull your hand out, but the door was closed too tight for it to budge. All it did was send sharp, lightning strikes of pain shooting up your arm.

Aayla was by your side in an instant and she was shouting commands or reassurances at you, but your mind was in a fog. Maybe it was the pain or the exhaustion, but your body slumped forward onto the bacta tank as your vision went black.

It came back seconds later, but you didn’t feel the same. Rather than pain, you felt the telltale sign of something running through your veins to bring you relief. You were also now lying on a cot rather than standing over the bacta tank.

“What are we supposed to do when the doctor needs a doctor?” Mayfeld scoffed. You couldn't see him from where you laid, but his voice was easily recognizable. So was Vanth’s who replied.

“Use the droid.”

“The droid? That’s your solution? Let the kriffing droid work on the woman Mando is head over heels for?” Mayfeld cried. “He’s better about the damn things, but if he heard about this he’d come back to Nevarro just to kill us. Then he’d somehow save our asses from the brink of death just so he can kill us again.” 

You groaned and all your words came out groggily, “Stop talking. Both of you.” There was the sound of steps and suddenly it was Vanth’s face in your vision grinning down at you. “Why are you in here again?”

“Well, because the doc went and got her hand jammed up in some machinery.” Vanth replied. His words reminded you of the injury and you lifted your left hand to see a splint wrapped around your last three fingers. The ring finger was the worst, but all three were discolored and swollen. Vanth’s teasing tone switched to sincerity. “How’re you feeling, little lady?”

“Drugged.” You complained and rubbed your face with your good hand. The lack of pain was nice, but you hated how certain strong medications could make you feel.

“Yeah,” Mayfeld chimed, “That’s the e-bacta shot we gave you.”

“E-bacta??” You scoffed. “Where the hell did you get the e-bacta and why did you bring it into my clinic? That shit is illegal for a reason.” This version of bacta was so potent and strong that it was only one step down from spice, really. Addictive as hell and hard to keep from degrading. “Why did you do that?”

Vanth pointed at your broken hand. “Because that looks kriffing miserable. We’d put you in the tank altogether just to be cautious but we had to break the damn thing to get you unlodged from it.”

“Shit.” You forced yourself to sit up and the room spun. Both men reached out to steady you. “The tank is broken??”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah, and so is your hand. Focus on that instead.”

You rubbed your face in a poor attempt to gain some clarity. “Please tell me no one told Mando.”

Maybe he’d still be on Mandalore and there’d be no service for someone to tell him you got hurt. This was just like a few days ago when you learned about Kurt. You couldn’t make Din worry. He needed to focus on his own task and not be thinking about you.

“Told Mando?” Mayfeld cried. “Nobody wants to make the call and tell the indestructible tin can that we let his girl get hurt.”

Vanth shrugged. “We were gonna draw straws later. Us, Karga, Nima, Peli. Short stick has to bear his wrath.” He grinned at you. “But now that you’re up and talking, little lady, looks like we don’t need to do that.”

Mayfeld nodded and pointed at the man. “Yeah, good point. She should tell him. He won’t kill her.”

“Either stop talking or give me more e-bacta.” You grumbled.

Ignoring the well meaning but overbearing men, you cradled your broken hand in your lap. The splint on your hand was decent. You’d need something more permanent, but for a patch job it was solid. The sound of doors sliding open made you glance up to see Aayla fluttering in. She put her hands on her hips with a solid attempt of intimidation.

“I already chased out Nima. Now you two, as well?” 

The men glanced at you and you tilted your head and added. “Go. Don’t tell Mando.” As they neared the door you called out one last time. “And…thanks, guys.”

You did appreciate them and how much they cared. Even if some of that caring just came from a healthy fear of Din. Not that you thought Din would actually hurt either man. They were friends and this had very clearly been your fault.

“Did you do this?” You pointed to your hand and Aayla nodded with a sheepish grin. “It’s good. It’s really good, Aayla.” The woman beamed at your praise and you chuckled. “Did you get any scans yet?”

“Yes. We did.” She brought over a datapad and opened up the program that held all the imaging. You took it from her to look over your own scans and winced. Dank farrik. Hairline fractures on your pinky and middle finger, and an actual break in your ring finger. No wonder you blacked out. “Do we need to get you to a facility? Does your finger need surgical correction?”

You praised her line of thought then shook her head. “The fracture will heal itself once splinted. In order to test the tendons I need the swelling to go down just a bit so I can try moving my finger.”

Aayla stepped away and then returned with a cream and some ice. She got you situated on the cot and lifted the bed so you could lay back without being entirely flat. She was going to be a good doctor one day. After she went through school and all that. You leaned your head against the pillow and shut your eyes. It would be best for you to get some solid shut eye while the e-bacta was in your system. 

Since reaching Mandalore, everything had happened fast. Back to back to back, Din had what should have been considered one of the worst days of his life. Nearly dying three times qualified as a terrible day. However, Din was not dead. More than just not dead, he was redeemed. 

Din Djarin was no longer an Apostate.

He was Mandalorian once more.

That alone could make this a wonderful day, but the knowledge that this meant he could proceed in pursuing you was overwhelming. If he thought about it for too long it’d send him to his knees. The first thing he wanted to do was call you, but that plan was derailed when Imps bombed Bo Katan’s home. Considering the woman had saved his life, and watched Grogu when he was unable, the least he could do was get her to safety. Maybe the covert wasn’t the best place for Bo Katan Kryze, but Din needed to go there anyway so why not use it as a shelter.

As Nima liked to say: two porgs, one blaster.

When everything had settled, the first thing he did was find a quiet spot to call you. Grogu was passed out in his arms and Bo Katan was sitting not too far away in contemplation.

“You alright?” Din questioned.

Bo hummed. “Suppose so. Not how I expected this day to go, but…”

“I’m sorry. About your home.” 

“...Thank you.” Bo said after a beat of hesitation.

Din could tell she was still in distress. Lost in her thoughts. He could’ve pressed further, attempt to help her some more, but it would have to wait. If Din didn’t talk to you right now he’d burst. The excitement of being redeemed mingled with the knowledge that for a brief moment today he thought everything had been over. 

He activated the holocall and leaned against the cave wall. 

When your face appeared on the screen, Din sighed in relief. Being trapped on Mandalore, sending Grogu away, your face had been the last one he thought of. “Ner kar’ta.” He breathed out. Din didn’t even care that Bo was only a few feet away and able to hear his entire conversation. “You are…”

He was going to call her a sight for sore eyes, but you looked more than exhausted. Something was wrong. Your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes and you didn’t have that same glow that Din admired. Before he could question, you spoke, “You can call! That means you’re not on Mandalore anymore, right? How’d it go?”

“I am redeemed.” Din said with pride and despite how tired you look the smile you wore brightened in excitement. You cried out about how happy you were for him and how proud and how much you missed him and couldn’t wait to see him. Hearing that praise from you was somehow better than hearing the Armorer confirm he was no longer an Apostate. Din shook his head, deciding to steer right back to his concern, “You look terrible, ner kar’ta.”

You forced a chuckle. “Exactly what a girl wants to hear.”

“You are the most stunning woman I have ever known, and every day I get to see you, bask in your beauty,  is a blessing I am undeserving of.” Din said sincerely and he watched your face twist in mild embarrassment. Your smile turning cute and sheepish. He grew serious once more. “But right now, you look ill. Hurt. So I will ask again," Din shook his head, "What. Is. Going. On?”

You twisted your lips, weighing pros and cons, and then with a sigh you lifted your right hand so it came into the screen’s view. Din’s eyes widened at the swollen and discolored look of your fingers wrapped in a makeshift split. 

“Me’bana!? Cuyir gar o'r aaray??” Din barked. Grogu stirred briefly in his arms. “Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc!?”

“I don’t speak Mando’a, honey.” You sighed with a small amused smile.

If Din wasn’t so caught off guard and worried about the state of your hand, the nickname that fell from your lips so easily would have made him flush in warmth. Din shook his head. “Are you alright?? What happened?”

“It was stupid.” You shook your head. “Cleaning the bacta tank, I slipped up. Got my hand caught in the filter door.” That wasn’t like you. Typically, you were very cautious and careful with your work. “It looks worse than it actually is, I swear. The swelling has gone down a lot.”

Din narrowed his eyes at your wording. “How much time has passed? When did this happen, ner kar’ta?”

“...Yesterday?” You said it like it was a question.

“Ner kar’ta.”

“Yesterday morning.” You confirmed sheepishly.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You were on Mandalore. No service.”

Din tilted his head, “You tried to hide it at the start of this conversation. If I didn’t press, would you have told me about your accident?” You pressed your lips together and winced. Din blew out a breath of air. “Dank farrik. Ner kar’ta…” 

“I didn’t want to worry you.” You said softly with a frown.

Din shook his head again, keeping his voice firm. “I need to know these things.” The thought that you were injured was staggering, but knowing you could be hurt and keep it from him? All he wanted in life was to protect you. Take care of you. “You need to tell me⏤”

“Why?” Bo suddenly called out loud enough that your face morphed into confusion at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. “Did you tell her about how you nearly died three times today?”

Din flinched and your jaw popped open. The exhaustion seemed to be wiped away and replaced with a mix of anger and shock. “You what!?” Din began to speak but you cut him off. “You nearly died today!? Din! What the hell is the mystery voice talking about!?”

“Well, it wasn’t⏤”

“You were gonna scold me about my broken hand and not mention multiple near death experiences??” Din winced. That was a fair point. He didn’t see it from that side. The sight of your discolored and swollen digits had blinded him about every other detail of the day. “Din Djarin⏤ Do you have a middle name? I want to yell your entire name at you but⏤ never mind. Just⏤ Maker! Are you alright? Are you safe? Is Grogu⏤”

Din cut in, “Yes. To all of it. Grogu is safe,” He lifted his arm enough that she could see the snoozing boy, “I am safe, I am okay. In fact, I am less injured than you are right now.” He sighed. “And, you’re right. That wasn’t fair of me. I just… I panicked.”

Your gaze softened but the concern remained. “Yeah. I guess… As long as you guys are safe.”

“We are, and we’ll be home soon.” Din promised. Your lips twitched up into a smile. “Who is taking care of you right now?”

You chuckled. “Uh, me?”

Din hummed in displeasure. He should be there to help you⏤ to take care of you. It killed him to be this far from you. A part of him wanted to stand up right now and fly home, but he needed to talk to the Armorer tomorrow. He needed to have something forged.

“Maybe you should stay with Nima…”

“I can take care of myself, Din.” You grinned. “I’m the greatest doctor in the galaxy, remember?” Din chuckled under his breath. “You really are okay, though?”

Din nodded. “I swear to you, ner kar’ta.”

They only spoke for a few more moments because Din was adamant you go to bed even though it wasn’t very late in Nevarro. You just looked so exhausted. Maybe he’d talk to Karga about a vacation. If they got the new physician to move to Nevarro then the city could afford to spare you for a few days. Vanth could stay a little while longer to cover for him. Din just wanted to take you somewhere nice⏤ somewhere relaxing. Though he should probably focus on actually courting you before he starts thinking of honeymoon options.

When the holocall ended, Din glanced over at Bo who simply tilted her head at him. He scoffed, “Really?”

“Seemed like pertinent information.”

“Your hand still looks like shit.”

You glanced up at Nima with a tight lipped smile. “A little rude considering I saved your hand.” She snickered. She wasn’t wrong. The swelling had improved but the bruising still looked Maker awful. Though, with Aayla’s help you were able to get a real splint on it. “I thought you were bringing me lunch.”

“I thought you were going to come with me to lunch.” She argued.

Luckily, the clinic wasn’t busy. So you shrugged out of your white coat, leaving you in just your scrubs, and then followed Nima who was leading the way with a bounce. There had been no further news on the Kurt situation which left you in turmoil. However, Nima had been doing her best to distract you and anytime anxiety did try to wash over you, you just reminded yourself that your boys would be home in the next 48 hours or so. 

“The Razor Crest project is going so well.” Nima clapped her hands. “I mean, we’re still missing some key pieces, but Peli and I are nearly done with the engine rebuild. Can you believe that?” You hummed in interest. It’d be nice to see it eventually. The Crest was such a strong presence in so many of Din’s story and Grogu’s pictures. Obviously, this wasn’t the exact same. Version 2.0, but still. “Peli said⏤”

The sound of a low rumble filled the air. As you, Nima, and all the other citizens standing outside paused to listen to the sound, a large shade began to cover the city. As if the sun was being blocked out. You looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of a huge ship.

“Shit. That’s a Corsair.” Nima mumbled in shock. Just as the words left her mouth, an alarm began to blare loudly and the voice of a droid called for evacuation to the lava fields. You didn't even have a spare second to panic because that’s when blaster fire rained down on Nevarro.

mando'a translations

ner kar'ata: my heart Me'bana?: What happened? Cuyir gar o'r aaray?: Are you in pain? Pehea rucuyir gar shupur'yc?: How were you injuried?

taglist:

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[ladystarksneedle]

The eye of desire

Summary: A maid at the keep finds herself burdened by changes of green.

Warnings: mentions of period typical sexism, derogatory language and attempted assault (not Aemond)

Word count: 1.6k

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The bell in her quarters chimes incessantly waking her up from her slumber as she clamors to dress in haste. It is the hour of ghosts, she realizes as she treads towards the familiar chambers ahead fixing the kercheif over her hair as she’s let in through the doors. He sits by the fireplace in his tunic and trousers, wet and disheveled with a chalice in hand. His wet coat appears to be discarded in haste, lying unevenly on the chaise as he stares ahead acknowledging her presence with a nod. She's swift to get to work, arranging his clothes in piles to be taken away and making preparations for his bath while he sips his wine. There is an unnerving silence that clings to him, haunting her as she busies herself with her task. He sits calmly, staring ahead in satisfaction, a stark contrast to how he'd left for Storm’s end. She silences the pang of jealousy coursing through her as she leaves to organize the pails of water needed to soothe him, missing the way his fingers clench and unclench in tandem.

Ever since the death of King Viserys, the Stranger appears to have made his home in these very walls. She remembers the dreaded day very well, waking up cheerily to attend to him only to be ushered hastily to the dungeons instead, left alone and shivering for hours at the mercy of the Master of the crooked cane and his jaunts with all her questions returning unanswered. She was, however, much luckier than many of those whose company she'd shared. She'd been summoned later, around the hour of the bat, back to his chambers to assist him for the night, just as she had done many times before and dismissed soon after being told to report to him again at dawn.

She'd done so without question, dressing him for what would come to haunt her throughout the days that followed. Some of the maids she knew returned to their positions in time, after pledging their allegiance to the crown, but many did not. She wonders what became of them as well as of her own family. She remembers seeing them last on the morning of the coronation of their new king, in the dragon pit. She'd spotted them all, her brothers along with her parents huddled together before the ground shook with thunder casting them away from each other in a flurry of red. She wonders if they were hurt and nursed back to health as the water before her steams with oils of lavender, almond and wild hazel, warm enough to take away the burden of his day. He steps in promptly before leaning back to let her work her hands through his hair, untangling the knots and massaging his scalp. She feels his body relax as she works, her mind wandering to the condition she's found herself in while he hums in between making her smile ruefully in response. She wonders how his new bride would take up the mantle of care she's religiously put up for him, finally casting her aside. Perhaps then she'd be able to meet those dear to her.

She recovers from her reverie soon enough, in horror and mute delight. The mist that shrouds her prince the next morn is unpalatable and a mockery of her faith in him. The words whispered in the hallways arouse fear and disgust yet the booming voice of the King silences them all with mirth followed by reluctant applause. There's a feast to be held in his honor for blood well spilt. The thought sickens her as she works in preparation for the night to come. The keep has been decorated with banners of green and gold, with stars of the faith lining the halls highlighting the presence of the Gods among them, more ominous compared to the comfort they're there to provide. She blends in perfectly with them too, dressed in beige and green, a tribute to the change being brought about, a mute spectator to it all.

She returns to him at dusk, fiddling as she readies him again. The leather in her hands feels heavy as she fixes it in place lingering at the feel of the golden flame clasp on her fingertips. It feels cold as she lets it go before catching his eye in the mirror. He holds her gaze intuitively before dismissing her with a flick of his wrist. As the night carries on in unexpected cheers and jests she's summoned to the banquet to attend to the merriment. The maids serving them appear to be adequate in number yet she lingers on, helping them serve wine and cake. The King laughs and guzzles his drink, eyes alight as the crowd clamors for his attention flitting from one subject to the next before it lands on her. She's been warned of it and how to go about it once caught, to acknowledge and avoid lest she bear the brunt of his eagerness yet she feels her body stiffen in response. The Stranger lurks in his eyes ready to pounce as he beckons her towards him.

“Come ‘ere wench” he bellows calling her forwards “Let me look at you properly”

She sees her prince turn his head towards her as she walks with the pitcher in hand pouring fresh wine into his cup.

“What a pretty little thing you are” he murmurs running his hand along her back “A fine price to pay for the stag lost to me now, is she not brother?” he says, looking at him.

“The Baratheons will follow you, your grace” she hears the Hand respond with a shake of his head.

“Yes yes, what choice do they have? Lord Borros seems to have a clear head for matters as such. A man like him would hardly prefer to side with pups” he laughs “As strong as they might be” he says smirking as his hand travels lower. She winces in response as she stands still near him.

“Perhaps I might indulge in a little bite after all, I'm sure your bride wouldn't mind after the show you put up”

She feels him clench his jaw as he rises slowly, fingers clasped around his chalice as he stares him down.

“Careful brother we wouldn't want to spoil all the merriment”

“T’is your grace” he responds petulantly, smacking her as she flinches.

“Hmm. Perhaps your grace should let me claim my prize then, for ridding you of one pup, this feast is in my honor after all” he challenges holding his gaze.

She feels the King stare at him before letting her go as he raises his own cup to him. “Of course” he says “You're wound out tight enough, let loose tonight brother, there is more to be done on the morrow” he replies with a glint to his eyes.

She feels his fingers grab her arm hauling her towards the door as some of the drunken lords erupt in cheers, trying to hide the shame that burns through her.

She's taken to those familiar doors in haste, tugged along like a doll before he dismisses the guard at the door. The room feels warm yet she shivers running her hands over her arms.

“Sit” he commands, seating himself before the hearth. He pours her a cup of wine and she accepts it trembling as she takes a sip near him. “I will not force you” he says looking at her as she drinks.

“It is what he does with most” she whispers bravely “To the maids, I've heard them complain.”

“My brother has a taste for depravity” he says as she lets his words linger.

“What do you wish to do with me?” she asks, gazing at him in doubt.

“Whatever you'd like,” he says, eye glinting dangerously.

“And if I refuse, would things go back to the way they were”

“If that is what you want”

“It is my lot in this life”

“And here I considered your position to be a bit more accomodating” he huffs in jest.

“In what way? Many like me have had their lives upheaved by a mistake”

“You consider this to be one” he asks, raising his eyebrow.

“There is no justice in this world”

“Yet you cling in prayer to the Father”

She looks at him disbelief as he drums his fingers against the armrest. “I find he seldom listens to some of us”

“No, some of us seek it in our own way” he responds thoughtfully.

“I do not wish to be hurt”

He looks at her for a moment before tilting his head in response. “You've served me well over the years, do you think I'd demand more than what you could give”

“Would this be an extension of my duties then?”

“Yes”

“And we'd continue the way we were before, but with me being your lover” she asks blushing.

“A convenient arrangement”

She fidgets in response as he gets up, irritated by her disagreeableness. “You may leave if you wish to, I will not hold it against you”

“It doesn't bother me” she whispers coming up to stand behind him before continuing “It never has and none of it ever will”

He stares at her as he turns to face her, sensing her hesitancy. “You will have my protection. It shall be with you as long as you wish to continue”

She nods in response before reaching up to touch his face. He startles before letting her set her hand on his cheek stroking his wound. She sees him stare into her eyes, daring her as she removes his eyepatch.

“Does it still hurt?” she whispers.

He hums as he leans down to capture her lips. She tastes the sweetness of wine on his tongue as he caresses her and the bitterness of smoke that clings to him as he lights her aflame. It is the last thing she remembers before drifting off to bliss, considering her own blood well spilt.

Taglist: @witheredoffherwitch @arcielee @chompchompluke @barbieaemond @watercolorskyy @b00kw0rmsworld

[kgymstlle]

just saying

post college au / suna rintarou x fem! reader

— you should leave him cause it really makes me sick!



"i just washed that." suna says as you cry on his living room pillow. you continue to do so though, and upon pulling back, the pillow had stains of mascara where your eyes had been seconds ago.

"sorry." you apologize, rubbing the fabric with the sleeve of your sweater. "you do realize you're making it worse, right?"

you immediately stop. "i'm sorr—"

"apologize one more time and i'll kick your ass out of my apartment." he cuts you off. sure it was harsh, but suna has always been this way. it was all in good faith though— he cares about you a lot, really, but being all soft and using a gentle tone wasn't exactly something he was good at, even if he tried really hard to. tough love, if you will.

feeling suna's piercing gaze, you bring your eyes to meet his. "what did he do this time?"

"he broke up with me." for the nth time, suna thought.

tears voluntarily rolled down your face yet again, and all you heard in response from the boy was a sigh. he wanted to say i told you so— you're better off without him. and with me instead...? shit. he's still inlove with you.

but he's your best friend. exactly. therefore he knows you better, and he'll treat you better. it makes him sick. he thinks you should leave your no-good-(ex)boyfriend for good, and not get back together within a week of calling it quits like the continuous, year long cycle you're stuck in.

"we fought. we were on a date, but he made me pay...said he forgot his wallet at home. he also arrived pretty late."

a total loser, suna thought. you were already struggling to earn a living and despite being aware of this he's still squeezing every penny you have left. that bastard barely takes you out too— come on, the flag is practically waving crimson. i would never do that to you though, the boy thought as he stared at your distraught state.

you paused for a while. "he texted me an hour before i got here. he says that he still loves me." bullshit. suna thought. he knows that son of a bitch is cheating on you. that man knows how to fabricate his words, lying to you since the very beginning. when you gushed about your ex's big house and how he lives all alone, it was quickly debunked when suna drove by that said house by chance... and saw a woman through the window which he later found out was the jerk's mother. he never told you that though, to save you from the embarrassment.

"you don't need him, y/n."

surprised by his words, you tilt your head. "wow. i know you mean well rinrin, but...wow."

exactly. i mean well. i'll also help you get over it— wait, is this still right? the boy shook his head. keep it together, rintarou.

"just saying." he muttered in response, eyeing your next move. you roll your eyes. "anyway, i think i've come to the realization that i've overreacted quite a bit— he did have a very tiring day... and i was so pushy that it probably irritated him."

for the love of god you need to stop blaming yourself for every inconvenient thing that happens. you stand up and wipe your now dry face with your sleeve to remove the smudged makeup. this is the part where suna sighs, he knows you're going to fall right back into your ex's trap.

you fix your composure and hug suna.

"thanks, rinrin. for always putting up with me and my problems." for you? always. he thought. with a few taps on your phone, you slip it into your pocket and head to the door. he already knows what you're about to do.

"when you change your mind, i'll be waiting." you hear him behind you, still seated in the living room couch. you nod at him and smile. "mhm. thanks rinrin, i owe you one."

when you shut the door, suna puts his hand on his forehead and sighs. "i'll be waiting." he repeats. cause after all, he's better than your ex will ever be.....just saying.