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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

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The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation

Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.

Word count: 4.4k

Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist

If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.

But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.

The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.

You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.

Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.

It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.

And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.

Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.

So handsome…

A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.

“May I kiss you?”

You blinked a few times. “What?”

His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.

“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”

You blinked again.

What?

You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.

Great. Now I'm hallucinating…

He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”

Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.

Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.

“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.

“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”

She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”

You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.

Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”

Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.

“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”

The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”

As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.

“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”

He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”

Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.

He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”

“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”

“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”

Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”

You shot him a death glare.

He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”

This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”

His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”

You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.

Shadowheart scoffed.

“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”

You needed to change the subject.

Fast.

You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.

This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.

“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.

“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”

You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”

He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”

Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”

“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.

“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”

Fair enough.

“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.

But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.

Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.

She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”

“House arrest.” Astarion informed.

Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.

“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”

Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”

She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”

He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.

“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”

Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”

You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.

To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.

Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”

Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.

“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”

“On that much we can agree.” He mused.

She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”

“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”

You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.

That would be as far as she'd go, though.

“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”

You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.

“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”

The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”

Your stomach lurched violently.

He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”

Now, you felt positively sick to your core.

A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.

“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”

Gale grumbled something in agreement.

But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.

The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.

“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”

Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.

But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.

Astarion.

His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”

You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”

His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”

“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.

He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”

“You won't even deny it.”

“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”

You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.

Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.

He was there, but not really.

He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.

Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”

His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.

Right.

You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”

The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.

You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.

Had you been too dramatic?

Did it even matter at this point?

Maybe it was better off this way.

You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.

Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.

Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.

After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.

That was until you heard a distant voice.

A woman's voice.

Her voice.

“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”

You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.

And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.

“No - stop! Get off!”

He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.

“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”

“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.

He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.

You were going to die.

He was going to kill you.

“Stop! Please - Astarion!”

Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.

You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.

“ASTARION!”

The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.

“Wake up.”

How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?

Were you already dead?

Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.

“Wake up!”

The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.

“Get the fuck off me!”

You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.

He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.

Bergamot.

Rosemary.

Aged brandy.

It was him.

He was there.

The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.

Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.

He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.

“You're safe."

For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.

He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.

“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."

You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.

The door to your room burst open.

“What happened? What did you do?”

Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.

“She was having a nightmare.”

His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.

“Oh. Another one…”

You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.

But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.

“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.

Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.

You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”

Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”

“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.

Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.

You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”

“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”

You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.

She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.

Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?

He scoffed. “No.”

“What?”

“You'll have to stake me.”

You were utterly confused by his perseverance.

“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”

He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”

Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.

“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”

He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”

His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.

“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”

You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.

“What are the first two, then?”

You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.

Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.

“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”

But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.

You felt as though you might implode.

His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.

“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.

He was too good at getting under your skin.

More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.

“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.

“I aim to please.”

His words hit you like a thousand knives.

“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.

But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.

“Don't. Do not start…”

You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”

He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”

You were slightly taken aback.

“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”

Oh.

“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”

You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.

“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”

You felt a lump swell in your throat.

He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.

“What haunts you?”

You.

“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.

Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.

You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.

He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.

“We don't have to talk about it.”

You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”

“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”

Your heart hammered fast inside you.

He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.

Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.

A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.

Please kiss me…

His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.

Astarion…

Almost there.

You could almost taste him.

Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.

Please… please…

As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.

You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.

A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.

“I can stay until you fall asleep.”

Your heart dropped.

Everything was conditional with him.

It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.

He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.

It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.

You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”

“I can stay.”

“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.

He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”

You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.

“Will you hug me?”

He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”

For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.

Open and caring.

You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.

His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.

“Am I too cold?”

You're perfect.

You shook your head vehemently.

But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.

“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.

You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.

Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.

Maybe this was all a dream.

Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.

That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.

His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.

“Astarion?”

“Hmm?”

“What happened to us…”

The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”

Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.

You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.

Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.

“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.

He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.

Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.

It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.

Morning came and he was gone.

Of course he was.

Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.

He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.

You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.

His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.

You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.

Why did he always leave in the end?

Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?

You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.

He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.

You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.

As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.

“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”

You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.

“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”

Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”

You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”

Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”

You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.

“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.

“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”

“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”

Guilt hit you.

Of course she had.

Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.

And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.

A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.

No.

No fucking way.

You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.

“Who is it?” Gale asked.

“No one.”

Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.

“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.

Ava.

Next chapter: Broken - November 26

Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷

#astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion scenario #astarion x you #astarion x reader

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speaking-riddlish · 1 month ago

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Thinking about how Riddlish is handled in cannon and in fics. I've seen people just put random things that happen to ryhm anytime they want someone to be speaking Riddlish and it's like, a minor pet peeve of mine? But every time we see Riddlish spoken in cannon, it kind of makes sense in a way? Like, if you think about what is said, and try to piece together any symbolism based on context, you can kind of understand what they're saying. Like Maddie said, "Riddlish is not an exact language". Putting together the metaphor and symbolism gives you the general idea of what they're getting across. And whenever a fic does this well, it's like an instant favorite.

Let's look at and dicect some cannon examples (I've always kind of found these facinating):

"Feathers and Friends, together alone!"

"Feathers" could refer to Raven, since she's named after a bird. She also has feathers fairly prominent in her character design, so it'd make sense for Giles to say this even though he doesn't know her name yet.

"and Friends" probably refers to Maddie, since she's known him for a while and is presumably his friend. It could also refer to their friendship, and maybe even be a way of including Raven in.

"together, alone" They're here with him, joining him in his solitude.

Putting it all together we get "Raven and Maddie, you're here! You came to visit me!" Which lines up pretty well with Maddie's translation of "he says it's nice to have us here!"

"Can a musical chair change its tone, when the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?"

"Can a musical chair change it's tone" The music in musical chairs is integral to the game, yet the song played does not come from the chair, but from the people playing. The tone of a musical chair is something fundamental about itself, and also something imposed by something outside itself. Can it change? Can something change something about itself that someone else has decided is fundamental?

"When the tablet of granite is inscribed with a bone?" A tablet of granite inscribed with something is literally that thing being written in stone, another reference to destiny and inevitability. And what's written on that stone is a bone, is death. Death is what is written in stone. Death is supposedly inevitable here.

From Raven's tone and terrified body language when asking Maddie to translate for her, it's fairly clear that the thing that wants to change is referring to Raven.

Putting it all together we get "Can Raven change from what others have said she's supposed to be, or is death the inevitable consequence of that like we've been told it is?" Which lines up pretty well with what Maddie was asked to translate: "What'll happen to me if I don't sign the book, am I really gonna disapear?"

"The king that sings with pages of sky fears too much the dawn that rises with lies"

"pages of sky" is in reference to the book, and maybe the fairytales themselves. The sky is often used to symbolically reference heaven and the divine. The book, determining people's destinies, fits fairly well into that category. It's almost like he's referring to the book as being from above.

"The king that sings with pages of sky" would then be Headmaster Grim. He's in a position of authority over the students like a king is to his subjects. He "sings with" the book/the stories with his constant insistence that people must sign the book and follow their stories, speaking in unison with them.

"fears too much" this part is fairly clear, Milton's paranoid. The consequences he thinks are inevitable aren't as inevitable as he claims.

"the dawn that rises with" would mean something like "the consequences of" or "the fallout from". Then there's one of two ways the rest could be. "lies" could refer to that which is contrary to what the stories say will happen. If you take the stories as "truth" then changing the stories would be "lies". Or, "rises with lies" could mean the consequences coming from Milton's lies being brought to light. The dawn rises as Milton's lies rise.

Yet the whole thing sounds rather foreboding, giving the impression that something is seriously wrong.

Bringing it all together, we either get "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's paranoid about what'll happen if you don't. But those fears are unfounded. Also something is very wrong." or "Headmaster Grim told you to follow your destiny because he's afraid of what will happen when people find out why you don't need to (and its emplied that that reason is something very bad)" This lines up fairly well with Maddie's translation of "There's something wrong with the book, and if you don't sign, your story will continue... I think". I like the touch that Maddie wasn't as confident in this translation, since the last phrase is more ambiguous. It's not really clear how the foreboding tone integrates into the message without more context than Maddie has, so Maddie doesn't really know what it means.

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers. But the cage holds both, to die and to wither."

"The baby bird flies. The snake, it slithers." The baby bird and the snake are two very different creatures, they move and interact with the world in two totally different ways. Most people also would look more favorably on the baby bird than on the snake.

"but the cage holds both, to die and to wither." the cage doesn't care what is inside of it, it will indiscriminately hold them both captive. The things that make the baby bird different from the snake, and the adorable charms of the baby bird will not free the baby bird from the cage, nor will they protect the baby bird from the grisly fate that awaits it in the cage.

The context is also relevant, since she's talking to Alastair and Bunny, two of her subjects who have just been arrested, but also two of her daughter's friends.

Putting this all together we get "Yes, you enjoy privileges that others do not have, but my affection for you will not compromise my judgement. You are not above the law. I am not above punishing you like I would anynother citizen." While we don't have a cannon translation to compare this to, it seems to make sense. Its immediately followed up with her letting them off with a warning, and despite this interaction, Bunny later tells Lizzie that her mom really is a good queen, but that the curse has stressed her out. I think the Queen of Hearts probably made exploring illegal to protect people from the curse. If she really is a good queen, then this type of objectivity ("I don't care if you're my daughter's friends, crime is crime") would make total sense.

#i just think Riddlish as a language is so fascinating #and i really appreciate how the cannon handles it #how it always seems to make sense #and can be used narritively for forshadowing #in like a criptic message kind of way #i really wish more fics treated Riddlish more like a criptic message and less like random rhyming giberish #i dont blame the fic writers though #sometimes Riddlish sounds like gibberish and its easy to miss the whole communication through criptic messages thing #eah #ever after high #riddlish's posts #text post #madeline hatter #giles grimm #queen of hearts #wonderland #ever after high wonderland #Riddlish

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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 1 month ago

Text

Sweet Little Lies

Could you please do an Eddie x reader where Eddie and reader are a couple, but Jason and the cheerleaders bet that they can drive a wedge between them or break them up if a cheerleader hits on Eddie. He doesn't go for it, but the cheerleaders tells reader he did, but it clears up and ends happily?

Request by @somethingvicked ❤️

Mdni. 18+.

Angst with a happy ending 💕

❤️

As usual at the cheerleader/basketball table talk had turned to one of Jason Carver's favourite topics. Eddie Munson.

He was pissed that Eddie had yet again managed to get one up on him and scared the shit out of him during class. Emma was immediately soothing and was thinking up ideas to get back at Eddie for him.

"He's such a freak, we should try and break them up or something. It would serve Eddie right for being such a shit to you" Emma smirks and bats her eyes prettily to Jason who lights up. Chrissy shakes her head in irritation.

"You should leave them both alone. They've done nothing to you" she gives Chloe and Jason a look full of disappointment and leaves the table.

"Ugh, spoilsport. Don't mind what she says, so what do you think? I bet you that I could split them up" Emma asks him and Jason is all for it and they both banter back and forth about what to do. Finally Emma looks triumphant.

"I'll flirt with him and pretend he was flirting back, he probably will though. I mean he's not going to turn me down is he?" She replies confidently, not that she relishes the thought of flirting with Eddie the Freak Munson but if it gets her closer to Jason then she's all for it.

"You're on" they shake hands and both eagerly begin to discuss their plan.

❤️

He's confused when one of the cheerleaders walks up to him, she's all flirty smiles and shit. He's sure she's the one who always bitches behind Chrissy's back and flirts with Jason (Gareth is seriously invested in the drama of it all)

"Oh hey handsome, you're just the person I was looking for" she giggles as she runs a hand up his arm. He promptly steps back suspicious. What the fuck?

"Why are you talking to me?" a brief look of irritation flickers on her face then she smiles, "Oh because I think you're so cute. I've just always been too shy to say" she twirls her hair around her fingers and Eddie sighs.

Once upon a time he'd pinch himself that some pretty cheerleader was flirting with him but now? Now he has you and you're more perfect than any popular girl or any girl in his eyes.

"Right. Well I'm gonna just go" she side steps him before he can leave and still continues her flirting attempts.

"Maybe you and I can talk somewhere private?" She looks at him with a seductive look. Or he thinks that's what it is.

He rolls his eyes and ignores Emily? Emma, whatever her name is. He's not interested in whatever she has to say and finally she gets distracted enough that he makes his exit.

Unfortunately Emma finds him again and is all cutesy and laughs like a hyena at what he's saying (he's trying to get away, not make jokes) but she seems to find him hilarious and he practically high tails it out of her reach.

What a weird fucking day.

❤️

You're trying to cram in some study for your English exam in the library when you're accosted by two of the girls on the cheer team. Both have identical sad looks on their faces.

"Um hi?" what the hell? You've never spoken to these girls in your life.

"Hi I'm Emma. You're dating the fre... You're dating Eddie Munson right?" You nod unsure where she's going with this.

"Yes" she looks solemn and pats your shoulder, what the... Were you in the twilight zone or something?

"Oh honey. I don't know how to say this but he was totally flirting with me yesterday. Like all over me flirting" you're so shocked about what she's saying that you drop your book with a loud thump. What!!

"Eddie wouldn't...I don't know why you're making shit up but..." Emma looks sympathetic but you feel like she's mocking you somehow.

"I know it's hard to believe but he was totally flirting with me. Stacey was there she will tell you" Emma replies smugly and you feel a pit in your stomach. That can't be true? Can it? Eddie wouldn't do that to you but her friend is nodding along with what she says.

No...

Emma sounds so serious and it's making you question things. She smirks smugly at you, "I mean why wouldn't he flirt with me. Sorry to be the one to break the news to you" she doesn't sound sorry at all and smirks as she walks away leaving you with a sinking heart.

❤️

It's been a hell of a day and Eddie just wants to find you and cuddle with his girl. Bad enough with that cheerleader flirting with him yesterday, now today Jason was making weird loaded comments that Eddie doesn't get.

He spots you at your locker and the stress he's feeling lightens. Until he catches the look on your face, you've been crying and when you look at him you're practically burning holes through him.

Eddie is confused why you're so cold. "Princess what's wrong?" you glare at him and he steps back stunned.

"What's wrong? Why don't you ask that pretty cheerleader who you were all over yesterday?" You snap at him and he's seriously confused now. Do you mean that Emma chick? He spent half his time trying to run away from her.

"What?" you wipe your eyes that are full of tears and look up at him heartbroken, that look tears his own heart in two.

"Emma told me and her friend Stacy, why would they say that if it wasn't true?" You murmur sadly but a little bit confused. Eddie gently cups your cheek and you move away still feeling sick to your stomach.

Eddie's face pains and he desperately tries to get you to believe him. "Sweetheart, I'd never ever do that. You're all I want. I don't know what the fuck is going on but I'd never ever do any of that shit to you. I wouldn't cheat either, you know that" he looks so sincere and earnest.

You don't get what's going on either but it's begging to piss you off. It's then you spy Emma and Jason watching you and Eddie arguing with smug smiles and something clicks into place and you realise this must be some stupid plan of theirs.

"What a load of shit. I knew she was being a fake" you seethe and Eddie follows your gaze to Emma and Jason watching the two of you with those stupid grins on their faces, his eyes narrow which wipes the smiles of their faces.

"Should have guessed that the asshole was involved too" you cuddle into Eddie and he presses a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm sorry, she was so convincing Eddie" he soothingly rubs your back as you apologise for believing her.

"It's okay princess. Fuck those guys, why don't you go ahead and get a seat for lunch yeah? I gotta track down Dustin, he's helping paint some figures for the campaign" you nod still pissed and throw a fierce glare Emma and Jason's way.

Once you're out of sight Eddie turns in that direction and walks over to the pair of them. Jason is all arrogance even if he does look a tiny bit worried, Emma is resolutely looking anywhere but him.

"Aww Munson. Trouble in paradise?" Jason teases but pales when Eddie steps closer to him seething.

"No thanks to you two dickheads, I'm warning you both, leave my girl out of your stupid schemes. Your stupid plan didn't work so count your blessings otherwise I would have been super pissed" He leaves Jason looking like he might piss himself and Emma babbling to him muttering freak and other shit.

Yeah, no one messed with you.

❤️

After Eddie's warning lunch was a little bit different, Jason was suspiciously quiet as Chrissy wasn't speaking to Jason who wasn't speaking to Emma so all was not well at that table.

Safe to say the plan had spectacularly failed as you and Eddie were happier and more in love than ever.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson angst #eddie munson

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luveline · 1 year ago

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Ok Derek angst what about a non-bau gf getting jealous of his flirting with Garcia? Bc ngl if my bf did that with a girl who I hadn’t met I would be super upset and then May be his gf meets Garcia and realizes she’s a girls girl and super sweet? Idk u can take it any direction

ty for your request ♡ fem!reader

You don't want anything to do with Penelope Garcia. Honestly, you wouldn't ever meet her if you had your way, but you're level-headed enough to know that she's important to Derek. Integral to his life. It's a miracle you put off meeting her as long as you had.

At first, you genuinely thought she was Derek's mom. He always ended calls with, "Love you, mama." It was only a few weeks ago when he shook things up to say, "I love you, babygirl," did you look up from the book on your thigh to ask who it was.

"Penelope," he'd said, like he was confused. "Who'd you think?"

You shrugged noncommittal, earning yourself a hair pet and a kiss. You lay awake that night wondering if you got it wrong. You'd heard a hundred stories about her and felt reluctantly fond, but now? Your boyfriend calls other girls pet names, what do you do about that? What can you?

You ignored it. And now you have to meet her.

She doesn't seem as nefarious as you've imagined her, springing from her seat at the cafe table to hug you. "Hi! Oh my god hi! I can't believe I'm finally meeting you, I've never been this happy in my life! You're so pretty!"

You wince at her arms thrown over your shoulders but reciprocate. You aren't a total bitch.

"Thank you," you say. She smells like coffee creamer and hairspray. She pulls away to beam at you, her lips painted a shiny, pretty red. "It's nice to meet you. Derek has nothing but good things to say about you."

It sounds awfully formal, like you're opening a bank account with a teller who has a shared acquaintance. Derek gives you a look. You give him a look back, mutual confusion. She may be his best friend, but you don't know her (and what you do know you're jealous of, so).

Derek takes your hand despite your off behaviour to show you off with pride, his teeth peeking from behind his lips milky white. "My two favourite girls had to meet eventually."

"I thought I'd be more jealous about coming second," Penelope says, eyes twinkling, "but I've never seen Derek so happy." Her voice turns scratchy like stretched linen. "He deserves the best, you know? And it's clear you're it. He's smitten."

"Maybe don't give up all my secrets, sweetheart," he says.

Seeing them together chills your raging envy. There's a lot of love there, clearly, but the sexual tension you pictured is fictional. "Girl code, my love,'' Penelope says with a shrug. She winks at you.

Insecurity nags at your skin like condensation on a cold window, "You've known Derek for nearly six years? Have you guys always been this close?"

"Well, mister muscles here didn't bother remembering my name for the first couple of weeks that we worked together, so he deferred to pet names. And, you know, he's him," —Penelope gestures to him as if to say, behold, drawing a startled laugh from you— "and I'm me, so. I didn't want him to stop."

"Hey, now."

Penelope shakes her head at you. "He always does this."

"If 'this' is stopping you from talking bad on yourself, babygirl, then yeah. I'll always do it."

You feel clarity break, the sweet taste of relief and the muggier lick of shame. Derek and Penelope have a special friendship. That you knew before meeting her. She's made a huge, irreplaceable impact on his life, and Derek has clearly done the same. They aren't playing work husband and wife —there are reasons for their affections that go well beyond the surface flirtation.

"I get it. Nobody ever called me anything so nice as Derek calls me," you confide. Derek's eyebrows leap up. You've never told him this; you're telling Penelope as a sort of apology, though she can't know that. "I never got asked out growing up. When he asked me on a date I thought he was trying to win a bet."

Penelope's expression flickers with relief. There and gone, quickly replaced by sympathy. "Are you kidding? You're so pretty, Derek's lucky he got to you before someone else did."

Derek kisses your cheek. His lips linger against the apple of it, your joined hands pulled instinctively to his firm torso. You might be imagining it, but Derek seems to know everything, so he probably knows the hill you've just climbed in your head. "Damn straight I'm lucky. I'm surrounded by beautiful, genius women. This is paradise for the modern man."

You flush at his touch and praise. Penelope makes a pleased squeak. "Ooh, you guys are cute! You need to let me take a photo. This'll make a great printout for your wedding."

"Penelope."

#derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan x fem!reader #derek morgan imagine #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan fanfic #derek morgan oneshot #derek morgan scenario #derek morgan drabble #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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nightlyrequiem · 3 months ago

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It’s my first time sending ideas so sorry if I’m not clear enough 😔.

I have a vague idea of Valeria x fem! Reader being on an arranged marriage, readers family owed big money to el sin nombre therefore your fam didn’t had enough to pay desperate for forgiveness Valeria offers taking you instead and leaving your loved ones alone. You were feisty at first not fond of the idea until you knew you were trapped without a way out, accepted your destiny, it wasn’t that bad at the end you had a luxury and power. U can add smut if your write too 🤭..

-🦋🦂

Hi! This is such a fun idea. I've always wanted to try my hand at writing the arranged marriage trope. If it were me being married off to Valeria, I'd fold so fast, can't even lie. That woman has me in a chokehold. Also, so sorry this took me a bit, life finds a way of getting in the way 😔

This is also longer than the one-shots I typically write. About 3019 words :3

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, kidnapping, WLW, Smut ✂️

In Sickness and in Health

Your relationship with your parents has never been great. Not bad, but not what it should or could be. They never treated you horribly, didn't scream at you or beat you as a child. They just kind of left you alone. They cared, in some way. But deep down you know you'll never come first to them. You've never come first for anyone. Which is why you're feeling a little confused when one day, your parents start really paying attention. Feeding you healthy meals, Booking doctor's appointments. Inquiring about where you've been. You're a little old for them to be trying to parent you. You've been saving up money to move out of town, your brain is only a few years short of full development.

You like the attention though. It feels good to be noticed and worried after. To look into your mother's eyes and see interest instead of boredom is something you could get used to. One Saturday night your parents sat you down in the living room and told you to pack everything you'd need for a long vacation. Your father had been saving up money so you could travel Europe together. Your mother didn't seem as excited as you expected her to be but who are you to deny yourself the chance to experience Europe? So many countries you could visit. Austria, Romania, Czechia? With your parents no less. Maybe things will be different. You can still have a good relationship with them.

You're confused when you get home from work one night a few weeks later to see a woman and three suspiciously dressed men. The balaclavas unnerve you, but your parents are sitting in the living room with them calmly. There is of course a hint of unease identifiable in their body language but there's no sense of urgency. Everyone's head turns to look at you, much to your discomfort. You're still wearing the skimpy waitress uniform from the club you work at. Your steps slow to an insecure stop. The woman drags her gaze over your body.

"Am I interrupting something?" You ask awkwardly. You don't like the look of these people.

"No, Honey." Your mother murmurs. Giving you a strained smile. "Come in and have a seat, we have some... some things to discuss."

You can tell by the tone of her voice that whatever it is, isn't good. Reluctantly you walk into the living room. Sitting down next to your mother. She puts a heavy hand on your shoulder but doesn't look at you.

"This is Valeria." She says quietly. "Valeria, this is my daughter." She says your name. You glance at your dad, confused by the situation. He also refuses to meet your gaze. staring ahead stoically. Valeria smiles and offers her hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you." Her tone is light and friendly. You still don't trust her.

"Sure." You nod. Taking her hand and shaking it. It's softer than you were expecting. Your mother gives your shoulder a squeeze.

"Do you know why I'm here?" Valeria asks. You feel a hint of dread.

"No."

Valeria turns to your mother. "Why don't you tell her?" She says.

You also turn to look at your mother. Your brows furrowing. Your mother sighs and rubs her hands like they're cold.

"Your father and I..." She trails off. "We made a mistake." You stay quiet, letting her continue. "And we owe some money to some..." She casts a furtive look at Valeria. "Some dangerous people."

You frown. You don't have to ask to know it's the cartel. Although, they seem to be pretty civil. The situation isn't so dire. Not yet anyway. "Is that how you're able to afford this sudden vacation?" You ask. "You borrowed money?"

"There isn't a vacation." Your father pipes up. You turn your head to look at him, confused.

"You cancelled it?" You ask him, feeling disappointed. Unless the money hasn't already been spent you don't know why you can't go anyway.

"No, there wasn't one to begin with." He clarifies.

"You had me pack for one." You reply sharply. Time and time again they'll never fail to disappoint you.

Valeria leans back.

"A vacation?" She murmurs, raising a groomed brow. "It's one thing to not tell your daughter, but to get her to pack her things under false pretenses? You're colder than I thought." She sounds amused, which only adds to the growing pit of dread in your stomach.

"What are you talking about?" You snap. Addressing everyone. "Why did I pack? What's going on?" Neither of your parents will look at you but your dad answers your question.

"You'll be leaving with Valeria."

His quiet words stun you. A warm, soft hand grabs yours and you look at it's owner. Valeria has her eyes narrowed at you. "I'll take good care of you." She promises.

You rip your hand from hers like you were burned.

"What do you mean?" You grit out. You're confused and everyone's answers are only giving you more questions.

"Valeria has agreed to forgive our debt in exchange for you." Your mother whispers.

"I am not a bartering piece. What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at her. Hurt and afraid. You don't want to go with this woman. Your mother looks up at you with sorrowful eyes.

"They would've killed us." She says. "You understand it's between life and death, right? Please, just do this for us." Just do this for us. What have they ever done for you? Why are you paying for their irresponsible actions?

"No." You snap. "You don't get to ignore me for my entire life and then demand that I sacrifice myself for you."

"You don't have much of a choice." Valeria says casually. She crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a cold look. "I'm taking you regardless of what you want."

You level her with a stubborn glare.

"You'll have to drag me out kicking and screaming." You mutter. Already you hate this smug woman.

Valeria simply shrugs. "That can be arranged." Suddenly one of the big, masked men descends upon you. Roughly hauling you to your feet. You gasp and struggle. Kicking and squirming. You're much weaker than you thought. "Bring her to the car."

"Put me down!" You cry out. You make it as hard as you can. Dragging your feet and thrashing. You try to wrap your ankles around a chair leg, but he just gives you a sharp yank, dislodging you.

You're rudely shoved into the back of a nondescript black car. You swiftly pull back your fingers back as he slams the door, narrowly avoiding having them crushed. You stare at your dark reflection in the tinted window, you're in shock. In the span of ten minutes your life has changed. You try to open the door but to no one's surprise it's locked. You look towards the front. There's a man in the driver's seat scrolling on his phone. You know better than to ask him for help.

You look around. This isn't happening. You scoot to the other door but just before you touch the handle it swings open. You startle and back up against the other side. Valeria gets in beside you. Calm and pleased, like the cat who caught the canary.

"Your bags are in the other car." She says to you. "If there's anything you're missing just let me know."

"My freedom and rights." You growl. Valeria gives you a small smile.

"Cute. That attitude will get old fast though." She remarks. She buckles herself in and tells the driver to go.

The silence is heavy and foreboding. You can't stand it, and you can't stand not knowing why she's doing this to you.

"Why did you take me?" You ask.

"Because I wanted you." She says simply. Wanted you. Like you were a nice coat or necklace she saw in a shop window.

"What are you going to do to me?" You question. All kinds of grim possibilities flash through your mind.

"You're very inquisitive." Valeria mutters. Turning to look out her window.

"Answer me." You demand. Valeria sighs.

"We are going to get married. Your parents owe me money, but I've been watching you and I've decided that you'd make a fair exchange."

Her words give you pause. "Marriage? You've been stalking me?" You don't know which one you want to be more upset over.

"No, watching." She corrects. "I frequent the club you work at for business, and I see you all the time."

"So that means you have to force me into a marriage with you? What's the point?" You snap at her.

Valeria scoffs at you. "Having a pretty woman waiting at home for you is a big morale booster."

You scowl at her.

"I'm not marrying you. You can't do this." You say angrily. "This is kidnapping, it's not legal." The town passes by through the windows. Buildings become less and less frequent.

"No?" Valeria replies irately. "Really? Kidnapping is illegal?" She sounds annoyed. As if your distress is inconveniencing her.

"You can't do this to me!" You raise your voice. Valeria's hand shoots out quick as a snake strike to grab your face roughly. Squishing your cheeks painfully.

"I can do whatever the hell I want, and I'm going to let you know right here right now that I will not tolerate your whining." She says with a dangerously quiet voice.

The rest of the drive passes by in a blur. The car finally stops outside of a nice-looking house, and you're ushered out by Valeria. She drapes an arm over your shoulder. You shrug it off, but she just puts it back on you. Pulling you close with more force than she needs to. A warning. She leads you to the large front doors. Staying on the stone pathway bisecting the yard. Wild plants and cacti sprout up from the dry ground. You don't get much time to observe the scenery as you're dragged inside.

Even the way the lights illuminate the foyer are wealthy. The floors are polished and clean. The door rug is also somehow clean. Even the side tables are matching. Not at all like the mismatched furniture at your house. The men drop off your bags and leave. Closing the door behind them. Valeria lets you take it all in for a few seconds before speaking.

"Do you want something to eat, or do you want to take a shower first?" Valeria asks you, taking off her shoes and neatly arranging them off to the side.

"I want to go home." You reply.

"You are home, pasta or stir-fry?"

You scowl at her. "I'm not touching anything you make."

"Then you can go hungry." She shrugs. "The bedroom is upstairs, feel free to use anything in the bathroom.

You started eating after a few days. It felt like a betrayal to yourself, but you were growing weak. You refused to sleep in the bed. Instead bunkering down in the living room. Getting your sleep on the couch. Every day Valeria tried to interact with you and build some kind of a bond and every day you met her efforts with hostility. Everything was much less... eventful than you thought it was going to be. Even the wedding, which wasn't really a wedding. She just took you down to the courthouse where you signed the papers. No dress, no celebration, nothing.

Valeria was also so much more respectful than you thought she was going to be. She uttered a few threats here and there, but nothing came of it. She didn't beat you or force you into bed. You had free reign of the house and occasionally she'd give you things. You pretended you didn't care. That you didn't want anything she got you, but when she was gone you found yourself trying on the clothes and jewelry she bought you. Admiring the way they looked on you. Valeria... wasn't as bad as you thought.

You spent the day on the couch. Stuffing your face and rotting your brain with reality TV. Valeria made you quit your job. You were pissed about it. In no way did you want to be financially dependent on her, but you didn't have a choice. The argument that followed was loud and a little violent. You screamed at each other and threw things. Now that you've taken the time to rest and relax, you think you were a little too harsh. You check the time, noting that it's going to be another few hours before she returns. The dust has settled into an uneasy peace between the two of you. You get up and walk into the clean kitchen. You'll make her an apology dinner. You still don't appreciate her kidnapping you and forcing you into a marriage but it's not that bad. You don't have to work, don't have to worry about money, really what else could you want?

Valeria returns home just as you finish cooking. You nervously watch her walk into the kitchen and lean against the door frame with her arms crossed.

"Smells good." She compliments. You carefully divide the portions up between the two of you.

"Yeah, thought I'd make supper this time." You reply. Placing the plates at opposite ends of the table. You take your seat and look at her. Valeria regards you with caution.

"It's not poisoned, is it?" She asks. You're a little offended but you can't blame her for being wary. Not with how hostile you've been.

"No." You say. "... I wanted to apologize for how I've been acting." Even though your feelings are more than reasonable. Valeria slowly nods and rounds the table, sitting down.

You begin to hungrily eat but Valeria picks at her food. Clearly not reassured that you didn't do something. Your first instinct is to lash out and get angry but that will get you nowhere.

"Pass me your bowl." You say.

"Why?" Valeria asks, furrowing her brows.

"Just do it." You sigh. Valeria slides her bowl over to you from across the table. You make pointed eye-contact as you lift her spoon to your mouth, eating from it. You slide it back. Hoping she decides to eat now.

You finish before she does, just watching her as she eats.

"This is really good." Valeria murmurs between mouthfuls.

"Thank you." You say, relaxing. "I was just making stuff up as I go."

Valeria finishes and gets up, taking both bowls to the sink. "You should cook more often." She hesitates by the sink. Watching you. You've been pretty lonely lately, has Valeria always looked that good? Her hair is a little messy and her dark brown eyes are half-lidded. Your eyes rove over her tan, toned forearms and the tattoos that decorate them. You stand and join her by the sink with the excuse of washing the bowls. She doesn't move and your arms brush. Your skin tingles at the contact. You can feel her staring holes into the side of your head.

Valeria clears her throat.

"I got you something." She says, reaching into her back pocket. "Hold out your hand." She gently drops a necklace into your waiting palm. The delicate chain feels cold. You pick it up and look at it. "I found it on the ground, it reminds me of you."

You frown and look up at her. "Should I be offended?"

Valeria smiles with amusement. "No, it was glinting in the sunlight."

"And that made you think of me?" You murmur dryly. She leans in a little closer.

"Yeah, it was just another thing on the ground, but it shined and caught my attention."

"That's really stupid." You say. Closing your hand around it. You two stare at each other.

Your back hits the wall with a dull thud as Valeria's lips press against yours. You don't remember taking it off, but your shirt is on the floor, the soft fabric protecting your bare feet from the cold. Valeria's hands fumble with her own shirt before you're both left in your bras. Her hand runs down your waist. Savoring the feel of your skin. You grab her shoulders and back her up into the hallway leading into the living room. Her legs hit the edge of the couch. She drags you down, maneuvering herself on top of you. She breaks the kiss to hurriedly slide your pants off of you, wasting no time in palming the heat between your thighs.

Her own pants don't stay on for much longer. Joining yours in a small, crumpled heap beside the couch, your underwear not far to follow. She presses her dripping cunt against yours, making you see stars with how hard she's grinding down. The room is filled with a cacophony of moans and grunts.

"I knew you'd come around." Valeria pants. "You're so good for me, making me dinner, I wish I could get you pregnant."

You feel yourself throb at the comment. "Fuck." You whine. Valeria's tits demand your attention. Bouncing in your face with each movement. Your hands smooth over her bare back, dragging over her shoulder blades and onto her chest. Valeria grunts as you give them a gentle squeeze, watching the full flesh spill through your fingers.

You shift your legs so you can wrap them around her hips. In turn, Valeria leans down to bury her face into the crook of your neck, biting and kissing you. Your hips buck up to meet hers, your clits dragging against each other. Your orgasm slams into you and you go rigid. A high gasp leaving your parted lips. Valeria isn't too far behind you. Her rhythm breaks but she doesn't still with her climax. She grinds into you, keeping the pleasure up for as long as possible.

She finally slows to a stop and lays her entire weight on you, Sweaty and breathing heavily.

"Good girl." She whispers. Kissing your neck. One of her hands settles on the side of your face. "Does this mean you're starting to like me?"

You consider her words. This was really just a way to release pent up energy. But, she sounds almost vulnerable and if you're being honest with yourself there's something more than lust making sparks in your stomach. "...I could." You reply softly. "Like you. I think I could do that." Valeria lifts her head and plants a soft kiss onto your lips. Her silent way of acknowledging your words. Maybe this marriage will be a good thing.

#valeria garza x reader #valeria garza #cod mw2

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mangostarjam · 3 months ago

Text

no promises — kaiju no. 8, hoshina soshiro x reader, use of foods as nicknames, best friends to lovers (finally), biting, 2.3k words

this is part four of best friend privileges; you can find the rest here

"Soshiro-kun…"

"Yes, pumpkin?" Hoshina Soshiro takes a sip of his coffee and leans back in his seat. The thick ceramic cup clinks against the saucer and you copy him, taking a sip of your iced caramel macchiato to steel your nerves.

It's been a normal coffee shop day. Soshiro always sets aside one of his rare days off to spend it with you out in the world, away from the base, so the two of you can freely talk about the books you've been swapping back and forth. These days are easily some of your favorites — away from the base, Soshiro is more relaxed, more boyish and loose. Even though you spend a lot of time together while on base, it never gets boring to be with him.

"Soshiro-kun," you take a deep breath. "Why haven't you kissed me yet?"

Soshiro raises an eyebrow and hums, tilting his head up to watch the clouds drifting overhead for a moment. "Well, apricot, if I kissed ya, I don't think I'd be able to stop there."

The blush that heats your body feels like a crashing wave. You knock your book over as you try to recover from the shock and he laughs, loud and bright and clear in the morning air. "Soshiro-kun!"

"What's up, beansprout?"

"You— I thought— !"

"Thought what?" Soshiro leans over to pick up your book. You watch with wide eyes as he dusts it off, wondering why seeing him in casual clothes is making your heartbeat stumble so much in your chest. He isn't wearing anything out of the ordinary — black slim fit pants and a white turtleneck sweater that hugs his pecs and shoulders distractingly, along with a blazer that only emphasizes the way his waist tapers — but maybe you're too used to his Defense Force uniform…?

Soshiro sets your book back on the wooden patio table and snickers. "Didja think I was holdin' back for fun?"

"N-no! I was just… wondering…"

"Hm?" He tilts his head and his bangs fall to the side a bit and your heart does something alarming. Is this what being in love does? Why is he so cute? "Tell me, plum tart."

You fidget in your seat as you try to organize your thoughts. Soshiro sips at his coffee patiently, but his gaze is unwavering on your every expression and he's making you nervous. Finally you reach over and take his hand. Red instantly burns along the tops of his ears, but you squeeze his calloused fingers. "Soshiro-kun, are we still gonna be best friends? Even though we're dating now?"

Soshiro releases a breath in a whoosh and covers his face with his free hand, peeking at you between his fingers. "Of course we're still best friends." He says your name and squeezes your hand back. "We're just gonna expand the definition of best friend privileges, that's all. Just between us."

His voice is shaky, and something about that makes warmth bloom in your chest. You nod. "Good."

"Good?" You watch his shoulders bunch as he takes a hurried deep breath. He drops his hand from his face and smirks at you, flipping the hand holding yours so that he can intertwine your fingers together. Your palm presses against his at the motion and you can't help the giddy smile spreading across your face. "Don't worry, honey bun, I'll give ya all the kisses ya want later."

You glance around. The patio outside the coffee shop is empty, though you can see the baristas and patrons inside through the café windows. Nobody is paying the two of you any mind, far too used to seeing you laughing and teasing each other from the many times you've frequented this café.

Soshiro catches your look and shoots you a lopsided smile. "We're not havin' our first kiss in public. Perv."

You frown. "But if it's in public, you'll control yourself better, right?"

"No promises," Soshiro laughs. "I've been waitin' for a long time, y'know? You can wait a lil' longer."

"Fine," you sigh. "Okay, so tell me what you thought about this book. You've been so busy with missions and training lately."

"Aw, didja miss me?" he teases. You snort and he laughs, but he listens to your request and begins talking about the books you've swapped recently.

It's easy talking to Soshiro, as always. The morning passes in pleasant comfort — except for the little zings of warmth and adrenaline shooting through you every time you catch his smile softening. Every time he suddenly averts his gaze as you play with his fingers, tracing the bones and callouses of his hand as he stumbles through his words.

"C'mon, strawberry," Soshiro murmurs, returning from dropping off your cups to the barista inside. He holds out his hand and you take it, a bubbly sort of happiness filling your chest.

You get to do things like this now — you get to touch him casually, intimately, learning the pressure of his hand squeezing yours and the way the tips of his ears turn cherry blossom pink whenever you reach for him.

Your next stop is one of your favorite bookstores, an independently owned little shop tucked away down an alley where the shopkeepers regularly write out little blurbs for their favorite recently read books. Soshiro tends to pick books based on his own secret criteria, but you like to see what the shopkeepers are recommending, and the two of you wander the aisles leisurely.

You're an aisle away when you spot an interesting title tucked up on a high shelf, and you stretch up on tiptoes futilely, fingertips just grazing the spine. You feel Soshiro behind you and he slides his hand along your hip before you can lose your balance, leaning into you as he reaches up for the book. "This one?"

"Y-yeah," you breathe, feeling warm. He's all dense muscle and solidity behind you, his fingers splaying around your waist with a surety that makes your knees wobbly. "Thanks, Soshiro-kun."

"Anytime," Soshiro murmurs. His grip on you tightens for just a moment and your heartbeat kicks — but then he takes a tiny step back. You turn to face him. "Wouldn't want ya to bring the whole shelf down."

You blink. "I almost had it." The pout is evident in your voice and Soshiro snickers, the sound low and fond in the quiet peace of the bookstore. You catch yourself staring at him in the golden sunlight, taking in the sweep of his cheekbone and the cut of his jaw as his gaze slowly turns sharp. Time melts and simmers around you. A shiver runs up your spine and you take a tiny step away, the hard wood of the shelves bumping into your back as his look settles into something focused and intent.

Soshiro would never hurt you — you know that — but right now… right now his look sends something instinctual scrambling through your mind, as if he's activated your fight or flight response with the careful way he's eyeing your every movement. You've fought and sparred with him before, but you're in a bookstore, so why does it feel like you're going to get snapped up?

"Sure, chestnut." Your eyes widen as he leans forward, but he bypasses your lips and you freeze as he grazes the edge of your jaw. "Ya look real cute, y'know?"

"Wh-what're you doing?"

Soshiro hums, pressing his lips firmly to the side of your neck. You've tilted your head subconsciously, granting him access as he sends heat and lightning zipping through your bloodstream. "Didn't ya want kisses?"

"This is not…"

He bites you lightly, just a short press of his teeth against your skin and a careful nip with the soothing swipe of his tongue, but it's enough to make you gasp. "Sorry," he mutters, "I toldja I've been holdin' back."

You can feel his breaths against your skin as he noses along your hairline tenderly. There's an ache in your body that matches tempo with your heartbeat and your hands have come up to clench the lapels of his blazer without you noticing. "I thought you said… not in public?"

Soshiro pulls away slowly and reaches up to drag his fingers along your jaw. Something in him lightens as he takes in your expression and the heat beneath his fingers. "Yeah," he grins, shattering the tension abruptly. "My bad. I'm gonna go buy our books. Gimme a minute. Meet ya in the front?"

He walks away before you can form a coherent thought, leaving you pressed back against the shelving for support as you wait for your shaky knees to recover. Your skin feels sensitive and tender, even though he didn't bite you very hard. You press your finger against the spot and wince as your pulse pounds beneath your touch.

Soshiro is standing in front of the shop when you finally make it outside, a small bag filled with your chosen books hanging loosely from his fingers. He shoots you a wide smile. "Ready to head back, egg tart?"

"You're bad for my health," you frown. Soshiro laughs, taking your hand and tugging you along. "I'm serious! I don't think my heart can take this."

"I'll take responsibility," he says, squeezing your hand. The back of his neck is pink and it's so cute and endearing you nearly tumble forward when he tugs you to a stop. "Here we are."

You blink and look around. He's led the two of you down a different path than the usual route you'd take back to the base. The gentle burble of the river rushing by fills your ears as you take in the sight — you're facing the river, tucked off the main pathway and roads in a little grove of trees rustling in the breeze. There's a bench, and Soshiro goes over to set the bag of books on the seat before he comes back to you and pulls you forward.

"Ya like it?"

"It's beautiful," you sigh. "When did you find this place?"

"I took a wrong turn on one of my morning runs," Soshiro says, "and I thought ya might like it here. Nobody ever really notices it 'cause it's so tucked away."

His hand tightens around yours and you blink. He's standing so close you can feel his body radiating warmth. "Soshiro-kun?"

"Yeah, vanilla bean?"

"Is it 'later' now?"

Soshiro laughs lightly, but there's a tense note to it and you reach up to cup his face in your hands, thumbs sweeping along the pink that rises on his cheeks. "I do really wanna kiss ya now."

"You can kiss me." You pause as he settles his hands on your hips. "I'll stop if we're going too far."

"Ya bruise real easy, hm?" Soshiro ducks his head and kisses the spot he bit earlier. The touch is featherlight and your heartbeat flutters. "I'll be careful."

He keeps his promise, brushing his lips against yours in the briefest of kisses, the soft careful press just a heartbeat long. Your hands clench his shoulders as he pulls back slightly to check your reaction. "Soshiro…"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me again?"

You can feel him smiling into your second kiss, the curve of his lips mimicking yours as you lean up into his body, following his lead as he tilts his head to kiss you a little deeper. The rest of the world fades away as you melt into him, the hot heavy grip of his hands on your waist and his lips moving against yours silencing all the rioting thoughts in your head. Kissing Soshiro feels — it feels good and right and you never want to stop.

Soshiro tugs your lip between his teeth and slides his tongue in when you gasp, only to break the kiss with a laugh as your knees buckle. He catches you easily against him, holding you up by the waist with strong arms. "I thought you were gonna stop me?"

"I told you, you're bad for my health," you grumble breathlessly. "I can't concentrate when you're kissing me like that."

He leans forward to kiss you again, swallowing down your startled moan. Soshiro pulls back quickly, red eyes taking in your flustered expression as if he's trying to memorize the sight. His own face is bright pink. "That's dangerous, pudding cup."

"Wh-what?" You blink, trying to recalibrate as heat sears through you. "What was that?"

"That was somethin' that'll haunt my nights forever," Soshiro says lightly. His grip on your waist hasn't loosened one bit. "Can I kiss ya again?"

"You're going to give me a heart attack."

Soshiro laughs, bright and fond and quiet in your little pocket of space. His hand comes up to press against the tender bruise forming on your neck.

"I promise I'll behave," he says, but there's a hitch to his breath when your lashes flutter shut at his touch. "But then again, maybe not."

You laugh and tilt your head to kiss him, sweet and careful and soft. Soshiro groans when you swipe your tongue along his lips, parting them easily and allowing you to clumsily trace his teeth with your tongue. Your breaths come short and quick, a steady ache intensifying beneath your skin as he huffs and breaks the kiss to suck harshly at the sensitive spot by your ear. A soft noise escapes your lips.

Soshiro pulls away and presses his forehead against yours. You blink up at him dazedly. "You're dangerous," he murmurs.

"You're really hot," you sigh. Soshiro's flushed face burns even pinker. "I can't believe I get to do this."

"Just wait," Soshiro says, his lips twitching into a grin, "and I'll show ya all the things I wanna do with you."

"I think you should get recertified in first aid."

He laughs. "My certification hasn't even expired yet!"

"Then you should take responsibility for my poor fragile heart and kiss me again."

"Sure thing, apricot," Soshiro brushes his nose against yours. You can feel his lips move as he whispers. "But make sure ya stop me from misbehavin'."

You smile into the kiss. "No promises."

#hoshina soshiro x reader #hoshina x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #kaiju no. 8 writing #kn8 fic #kaiju no. 8 x reader #hoshina soshiro #fuji writes fic #sorry for the wait! life's been rough!!

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pastlivesxpastlie · 3 months ago

Text

⋆˚₊ show me what you are ⋆˚₊

enemies with benefits vessel x f!reader

summary: you despise your friend of a friend vessel, and he despises you. but you quickly learn you have more in common that you ever thought.

7.4k words

tags, head's up, etc: SMUT, soft sub!vessel, soft domme!reader, lots of antagonizing one another, enemies to lovers, established enemies, casual arrangement, making out, idiots in lust, sexting, masturbation (m + f), praise, dirty talk, pet names (puppy, mommy), cockwarming, cowgirl, pronebone, squirting

a/n: I'm nervous about this one. I've been working on this before I started feeling depressed and I just want it out on the world. Also, in the (paraphrased) words of @rat-that-writes "he could never hate me. I'm too hot."

You’re minding your business at a cafe when he comes in. You lock eyes like you normally do when you happen upon each other. Blank, dead eyes. Face so flat it’s not even a scowl. Sighs. Vessel. A friend of a friend of a roommate of a friend. And a thorn in your side. Ok yes he’s very smart…and witty…and talented…but it doesn’t make him any less arrogant and annoying to be around. You two run in the same circles but that doesn’t mean you hang out. You just exist, for better or for worse, in the same space. No one could understand why you and him didn’t get along. You two weren’t so similar that it was grating, but you also weren’t so different that you were unable to find common ground. But there was something in the way of you two connecting. Of feeling anything other than hate.

You look back down at your book until you hear the chair across from you scrap across the floor and someone slump into it.

“I need you.”

You take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose. You look up at Vessel and notice he’s staring at you expectantly.

“Say something,” he says somewhere between a plea and a demand.

“What are you talking about…you ‘need’ me?”

He looks down. “Uhm, well, you see…”

“Ves…spit it out.” You’re trying to keep your voice down as more people come into the cafe. Why couldn’t you have had this conversation at the party you both attended the night before?

“I…fuck. I have…needs and…”

“Oh Jesus Christ.” You roll your eyes and crack your neck. “It’s 10 am…”

“No, let me…finish. God. I…have needs and I don’t really…want to look far. To get them met. Do you understand? Uhm…I..”

Is he asking for…?

“Use your words.”

He doubles back a little and licks his lips. Why do his eyes look watery? “Yeah. Yeah I'll use my words. Uhm. I was wondering if you’d be interested in exploring something sort of…loose with me. No strings.”

You laugh out loud from shock. “Is this a sick joke?”

Oh his little heart breaks when you laugh. You can see it. His sweet face drops. “No…no oh my god. I would never joke about this. Look. Hear me out. I…hun I am desperate. I need to just…” he puts his hand to his forehead… “I need the companionship…and the release…but I don’t have it in me to look for a relationship. Not right now and perhaps never.”

This is the first time you’ve seen him vulnerable and quite frankly you could get used to it. There was something about his voice that was different. Calm. Normal. Sincere. But you still feel that pull towards aggression. Instigation. “And someone you actively despise and harrass is your top pick for a fuck buddy?”

“I know we argue a lot!” he barks back. You shift uncomfortably as a couple at a nearby table glare at you both. Vessel clears his throat and lowers his voice. “We don’t get along. And what I’m asking for is a bit much…maybe we just…pretend for a bit? Every once in a while?” He gulps and shakes his head. “I’m genuinely pathetic, I’m…I’m so sorry. I’m being a fucking knob.”

You cross your arms and consider what he’s saying. “So you’re asking to have some kind of…situationship with me…without ever trying to be nice to me first?”

He wipes his hand down his face and groans. “I…fuck it. Yeah I am. I am here groveling and asking you to sleep with me every so often so that maybe I don’t do my own head in. And, also, I just thought maybe…since you’re…pent up and shitty like me. Maybe you’d like to have some fun every once in a while? It would be mutually beneficial. Our mouths would be busy, eyes closed. Maybe we wouldn’t even know it was the other.”

You scoff. “What is that supposed to mean? Pent up…” you straighten in your seat. But you knew exactly what he meant. You were high strung a lot, and Vessel made an excellent target for your frustrations. How could two shit stirrers find any kind of solace with each other? But…you didn’t have any other prospects banging down the door (or you). You put your hands up in surrender. “Ok. Ok. I’ll bite. Yeah…fun would be nice…”

“Right…yeah, yeah. Because I get the impression it’s been a minute for you and…”

“Dude, come on!” You interrupt.

“Look,” he shakes his head and looks away, “you’re a nice girl when you want to be. And maybe if this arrangement is with you…someone I don’t really see often or whatever…” he finally looks you in the eyes.

That next Friday you’re in his flat for the first time. You sit on the couch awkwardly as he brings you some water and plops beside you. Ves bites the inside of his cheek. No one has really made any moves but first times are always awkward right? No matter what was going to happen tonight, it would be a first of some sort. The first time you’re nice to each other. The first time you really touch each other. “You look pretty.” He says sheepishly.

You look down at your baggy band tee and short yoga shorts. “Don’t lie to me.”

“My god just take the compliment. We’re here just trying to have a good time and…”

“Ok ok. Thank you…Ves…that’s sweet of you to say.”

He turns a bit more towards you, searching your face. His eyes trace your body head to toe as he tries to stifle a small smile. This was his idea and yet he still doesn’t want to show you how much he likes looking at you. Being around your pretty self. You suddenly start to feel nervous as he scoots closer to you. He curls his long legs up underneath him and gently touches your arm. You study his fingers like they’re some harmless little bugs before bringing your gaze back up to his face. He’s not ugly. No. You just never think about his looks because he’s so annoying to you. But here you both are, looking at each other in quiet fascination. Your breath hitches.

“Why me, Ves?”

“Why not you?” Vessel rolls his eyes and moves a little closer and puts his hand out tentatively near your thigh. You gulp, pulling his hand to rest on your smooth skin. His hand rubs gentle strokes against you and his breath deepens. “You feel so good. God.”

“Yeah?”

He bites his lip and looks at you so dreamily. You chuckle. The world stops for what feels like the hundredth time since you’ve gotten here. You feel your head spin a little as he looks at you with what you want to call “desire,” but how could you two ever feel anything other than disdain? Vessel clears his throat slightly. “You can back out…before everything changes…”

“Everything’s changed already, Ves.”

His hand moves up your thigh and squeezes, kneading your soft flesh. He hums contently when you move closer, nearly on his lap. You were wrong when you said everything had already changed. It actually changed the moment you two instinctively moved closer. Not a kiss, but a hug. At first it was tense. Like siblings being told to hug it out. But soon the awkwardness wasn’t the most distracting thing. It was how he felt to you. Sure he was lanky and toned, but he had a softness. A gentleness in how his arms pulled you close and enveloped you. It made you feel like the tiniest thing. And you could tell he enjoyed it and wanted to relax. As he loosened up, he held you closer. He breathed you in. You swear you could fall asleep until he drags cheek and nose up your neck…it reminded you of an animal scenting something. Or maybe he wanted your essence on him. He starts to speak in a barely there whisper and then clears his throat.

“May I, please, start kissing you?”

You gulp. The hug alone aroused you, and the thought of kissing him made you feel completely brainless. “Yeah,” you whisper thickly.

Vessel places small, gentle kisses in the crook of your neck, taking his time and breathing deeply between each peck. His lips are naturally pouty and feel so soft on your skin. He lets his lower lip drag up to your jaw before placing a delicate kiss right by your earlobe. You would say you don’t know what to do with your hands but they move on instinct. One gently squeezes his waist as the other traces lazy patterns on the back of his neck.

“I love how your nails feel on me,” he whispers. He sounds like a different person. He’s actually lost in you…and you would know because you’re lost in him. You let your hand drift up to his hairline where you begin to scratch his scalp. His head falls back; his eyes closed and lips slightly parted. You chuckle softly and move both hands to his hair. Eventually you’re in his lap but you’re hesitantly to really relax. “I’ve got you. Have a seat, love.”

You start to feel nervous and the nasty voice in your head that says you’re not worthy and perfect for this kind of situation gets louder. “Is it because I’m easy? Do you think I’m easy?” You blurt out. So many times you’ve been taken advantage of and it wouldn’t even surprise you if this was one of those times where you were in the right place and desperate.

Vessel’s eyes open, and he looks at you completely lost. He leans forward and helps you cross your legs around his waist. “You… darling…are one of the most difficult people I’ve ever encountered. It must really mean something if you’re here…in my flat…nestled on my lap. And I’m grateful. Thank you.” He begins kissing your neck again but with more fervor this time. More need. Your back arches as his kisses become wetter and his hands knead your plush thighs and ass. It’s no use. You give in to instinct and gently move his face to yours but you both stop. Your noses touch but the realization starts to set in. As quickly as you came together, you’re pulling apart.

“This isn’t the move, is it?” You ask, getting off his lap and smoothing your hair back.

Vessel inhales and rubs his face, groaning. “No. It was a mistake. Besides, you gave me that look.”

“What look?!”

“Oh don’t play dumb. You know the look. The one where you watch me flounder when you could help me.”

You scoff and stand up. “Wow you’re catching on. That’s how I always look at you.” You start to walk towards the door when you turn back to him. He hasn’t left his seat on the couch and doesn’t seem to care to do so. You’re not quite sure what you’re feeling. Arousal, but also annoyance at how quickly the mood changed. Certainly it was Vessel that ruined it, right? You feel that familiar stirring. To project. To rile him up and tear him down.

He stares back at you. “You’re as pathetic as me. Don’t forget that. You wanted this too. You probably still do.”

Him being both right and cruel about it ignites a white hot rage inside you. You want to scream at him

ask what you did to deserve this from him. To ask him why he makes himself so easy to hate. But instead, you leave.

...

A week later you’ve kept your weird interaction with Vessel in the back of your head but until then, you couldn’t give two dicks. It was the weekend. And it wasn’t like you to be at a bar like this. Metalheads. The hottest, tiniest goth girlfriends you’d ever seen. You felt out of place but your friends said “noooo we should go! It’s something different to do.” So you put on little black dress and Dr Martens and said “fuck it.” And you were glad you did because a new environment also meant new guys…and to your surprise you actually got some positive attention.

You found yourself chatting with a guy at the bar as you waited for your drink. He was friendly and handsome enough; you had the ugly thought that maybe he was one of those metalheads who had never actually spoken to a girl, but that was quickly forgotten when you started a thoughtful conversation about a series you both like. And it wasn’t one of those conversations where a nerdy guy dominates and info dumps and corrects you like a jackass. It’s just…enjoyable. He finally starts warming up to you a little and lets his hand graze yours, laughing at your reaction when a sludgier song comes on. You bite your lip and giggle a little, flirting with him saying, “maybe I need someone to help me appreciate metal a little more.” Your hands briefly touch again, and he leans a little closer…letting his free hand lightly touch your waist. You play coy and back up a little. It looks like he’s about to get his phone out before his eyes trail up and behind you. You’re wondering what he’s looking at until you feel a looming presence and a wide hand rub against your back and shoulder.

“There you are, gorgeous. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”

Your jaw clenches into a tight, fake smile. That accent. You look up at your uninvited guest.

“Hello, Ves. I’m sure I have no idea what you mean.”

The cute guy you were talking to looks confused and maybe a little sad. Fuck! You facepalm and groan as Vessel waves to him nonchalantly. “Heya…alright, mate?” His voice is dripping in sarcasm.

Your brain scrambles. “He just means I’d been up here for so long I forgot about the friend group” you say trying to save face. “Not just him. Definitely not.” Vessel squeezes your hip in feigned affection which makes the guy tsk, roll his eyes, and walk away. “Wait, I’m serious,” but he’s already gone. You scoff, ready to pummel Vessel who was easily a head taller than you and more than capable of overpowering you if you tried. You actually liked that guy and thought something was there.

“What the fuck was that?” You ask, eyes shooting daggers into Ves.

He snorts and shrugs. This is no big deal to him. “That guy was a loser.”

“So?! What do you care?”

“Oh come now, babes. You would have annoyed that bastard to death…he could have never kept up with you.” That shit eating grin. God you could just slap it right off of him. You know that he would leave you alone if you just…didn’t respond. Ignored him. But something kept telling you to egg him on. To react.

“You’re such a dick,” you say, rolling your eyes and walking away. You make it halfway across the bar when he grabs your arm.

“HEY! I came over to talk to you. Don’t walk away from me.”

“Wow, and how inviting you seem right now! Sabotaging my night and grabbing me. Is this the only way you can get girls near you?”

His brows knit together and he stands closer to you…so much so you’re looking straight up. “Sabotage? Did you like him that much? If you really, really wanted to go home with him tonight then why are you here with me? Also…” he leans down to whisper, “I didn’t have to do much pulling and prodding to get to you mine last week.”

“What the fuck do you want” you sneer. But you find yourself wanting to stay put. The warmth radiating from his tall form. His cologne. The intensity of his gaze. Your attempt at a makeout session last week suddenly replayed in your head very loudly. You snap back to reality when Vessel huffs with a terse laugh and looks away.

“I hate to say it but…I wanted to ask you something. Ask you…for something…again.” You search his face for understanding. He can’t even look you in the eye but you can tell he’s humiliated. Tail-between-the-legs humiliated. Little-boy-caught-by-mommy humiliated. The pause is heavy. The ambient noise in the bar fades away when he looks at you. He tries to find words but they aren’t coming. “Fuck. Never…never mind, it's stupid. Have a nice night” He lets go of your arm and storms away.

You’re left there with your jaw on the floor. Usually this tall arrogant nerd wouldn’t shut up giving you a hard time. Now he’s running away. Without thinking, you follow him outside the bar and call out.

“Ves, what the hell was that?” You hate to say it but you actually feel concerned. Like you have to finally put down your senseless grudge and actually talk to him. “Are you ok?”

He looks out down the street. It’s a busy Friday night. Folks bar hopping, getting Ubers, whatever people who like each other do downtown, but it feels like it’s just you two. Your eyes bore into him, and he finally looks down at you. Blankly, but at least he’s looking at you. “I know how we can make the…‘situation’ work.

“Oh? Other than bothering someone else?”

“Do you know what? This is your problem. You’re mouthy and always antagonizing to try to keep some hold over me…and I want all of it. I need you to keep being that way with me. Please.” His voice has dropped to a gravely murmur as his hands shake in clenched fists at his side.

You two stare at each other for a moment too long. It’s uncomfortably intimate. You’re having a conversation without speaking and it eats at you. You should not want this. Not again. Not him. “What do you mean?”

He fidgets. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Are you kidding? You’re really going to stand here and ask me for something again without defining any terms? Without playing your part in whatever this sick little thing is?”

“If it’s so sick then why are you blushing? You blushed like that when I kissed your neck in my flat. You’re like me. Come on.”

You cock an eyebrow, realizing slowly what he means. “You like this…don’t you? Being put in your place?”

“You haven’t actually done it yet, but…if you did…we’d all feel better. Even if for a brief moment. An hour. An evening. Just…please,” he takes on that same pleading…groveling tone again. He means it. “I can’t…for lack of a better word and I know it’s stupid but…I can’t ‘show up’ and turn my brain off if we’re…equals or something.. So please…where do I belong? Tell me.”

The idea that this…dummy who antagonizes you wants to submit to you breaks your brain. But wait.

“How did you even know to ask me about this, hm? Did you ask around…maybe even try to snoop on my socials?” Your voice isn’t harsh, but it isn’t gentle. Strict. Probing.

The way he looks down and rubs the back of his neck, which suddenly looks biteable, is adorable. He gulps. “I uhm…I’m sorry…but I..”

You bite your lip and chuckle as he shifts from one foot to another. A couple walks past and gives you both a once over, which makes you stand closer to him. If he wants to feel claimed, you can try. Being in his personal space where everyone can see.

“I uhm…I heard you talking not too long ago…about…” he lowers his voice “about subby guys and…well..”

“Wooooow….so… been eavesdropping, eh, bub?”

He opens his mouth and only a little whimper comes out. “I’m so sorry.” He keeps looking down, but you reach up and guide his chin so he looks at you.

“What a resourceful boy…” you say in a sticky sweet voice. “You were just dying to find something out to the point that you decided to sneak around? Was it fun? Little puppy sniffing around for clues…hm?”

Oh the blush that covers his face. The way his eyes sparkle. You know exactly when he overheard you wax poetic about submissive men to your friends at that party…because you knew he was there. You wanted him to hear…because you had your suspicions too. “Answer my question. Dig up your bones for me…did you have fun with your little secret mission?”

He breaths shakily and bites his lip. Finally he nods…and gives you a big cheeky grin. “Yes ma’am.”

“Eh don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Makes me sound old.”

“Oh sorry sorry uhhh I don’t mean to…”

“Ves…my goodness…it’s ok. You didn’t know.” You chuckle softly and feel like you’re looking at him for the first time. “Don’t be hard on yourself. And that’s my first order for you.”

His back straightens a little and his pouty lips curl into a shy smile. “I can do that.”

“Good boy.” You can see his pupils dilate…his breath catch…his heart swell. Oh to be your good boy even though you despise him.

Something inside you has snapped. Suddenly this insane “mutually beneficial” arrangement excites you. Having casual sex with someone you don’t like in the name of “some fun” was ok, but seeing now that he was naturally submissive made your head spin. This you could work with.

“I will take a crumb. Honestly. Anything you’ll give me…even if this is the last time we talk about it and it falls through again…”

You put your hand up to stop him. “Stop that.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He winces when the word leaves his mouth.

You smirk and brush his hair back a bit. Your nails lightly scratching his forehead. He wants to purr. To roll his eyes back and feel your nails all over him.

“Look at you,” you whisper, letting your nails trail over his cheek. “Such a big baby. Aren’t you?”

“Let me take you home…please. Please…”

“No. Hmm. No, I don't think so. Not tonight.”

He pouts a little bit but nods. “Yeah…yeah ok.”

“Mhm…be patient for me. Can you do that?”

He nods and bites his lip. You can tell he’s excited. “When we’re not like…playing or whatever…you don’t have to treat me any differently. It can be our secret. As we were, yeah?”

You take your time with this. You two rarely see each other as it is and like hell you’d mess with him in front of others. So things develop over texting and the occasional late night phone call…but usually texting. Talking on the phone leads to tone policing. Arguments. It’s best to just keep things borderline anonymous.

Ves: are you too busy for me?

It was 10 pm. You were drinking wine in your underwear watching Scream. Technically, yes, you were busy. But you knew why he was texting and maybe it would be fun to indulge.

You: I guess not. What do you need?

The response is instant. He was waiting for you.

Ves: nothing really.

Ves: just wondering about you

You: what about me?

Ves: what you’re doing. what you’re wearing. if I’ll ever actually get to be your good boy. feels like you want me at arms length all the time. Is that part of the fun for you?

What seemed like a fun flirty conversation has now turned somewhat emotional. You sigh, desperate to get things back on track. As you try to formulate a response, you get…oh.

The video’s thumbnail is dark, but you open it anyways. You hear blankets rustling and music being turned down as it becomes clear what he’s sent you. He’s laying on his back in bed; the blanket is pushed down to right below his belly button. You’ve never seen him shirtless…and now that’s all you want to see. Yeah he works out but he looks soft. Kissable. You can imagine how fun it would be to kiss down his neck to his tummy, telling him how pretty he is…making him feel small and fuckable. He starts talking…you can tell he’s nervous.

“Maybe this is too needy…too pathetic…I don’t know” he strokes his free hand mindlessly up and down his stomach, “but you like this. Maybe you want me to act out. Just tell me…please… Do you want me like this? Desperate…completely stupid…” As his voice trails off, he moves his hand down to his blanket-covered waist and palms…

“Oh shit,” you whisper as the outline of his cock comes into view and he speaks again.

“I want you to want this…please…can I be needy for you?” The video ends just as he lets out a soft, breathy whimper.

You compose yourself…or try to…and respond.

You: look at you. Are you comfy in that big bed?

Again, the response is instant.

Ves: yeah but I’m lonelllyyyyy.

You: just pretend it’s me, sweetheart.

Ten minutes pass. Wait. Why are you sad he didn’t respond? Why do you care? Why…*ding ding*

Ves: ok, I did it. did I do good?🥺

Another text. A picture. What. A. Sight.

His hand concealed his now flaccid cock… but fully on show was his cum covered tummy. You choke back a moan and grasp your blankets. At this point you’ve forgotten who you’re texting and quite frankly you don’t care.

You: such a good boy 🐶 you’re a hot mess, aren’t you?

Crickets. Fucking. Crickets. You don’t hear from him for three days. You keep telling yourself it’s ok and not worth thinking about because you hate each other. It’s just mindless fun. Nothing personal. But then…it dawns on you. You’re technically in charge.

You: come over Ves: why? You: why do you think? be here at 8. don’t be a brat Ves: 🧎‍♂️🐶 see you at 8

Right on the dot, he’s there. You’re hoping this doesn’t end the way it did last time. Necking in his lap before you came to your senses. But the energy is different. He stands close to and studies your face.

“What should I call you? When we’re…you know?”

“What feels natural? Other than ma’am…” you chuckle. Aw. An inside joke.

He bites his lip and blushes. Why is he doing sweater paws with his hoodie? Such a slut.

“I can think of one but…” he stammers, “not quite brave enough yet to use it.”

“That’s ok.” Your hands drift up to his chest, where you start to play with drawstrings of his hoodie. “Let me get you some water…do you need a snack before we get started?”

He considers for a bit but shakes his head. “I can wait until you’re done with me”

You suppress a whimper. He’s in his subspace for you. Get it together. Also, easily entertained much?

All he said implied was that he’d need sustenance after whatever you do to him because you’ll use him for all he’s worth. Very normal! Not worth whimpering over! “Let me show you my bedroom.”

You gently pull let the hoodie’s drawstrings bounce as you let go of them. When you step inside your room he chuckles a little.

“Squishmallows eh?”

You give him a playful sneer, although any other time you would have laid into him. “Better get comfy with them if you want to do this.”

He’s already on the bed, shoes kicked off. He grabs one that looks like a shark and holds it to his chest. “Genuinely…your bedroom is really cozy. Thanks for having me over.” He says this as if it was any other conversation, but then he licks his lips a little. “I’m just going to lay here until you need or want me to do something. Is that ok?”

Well. You’re already straddling him before he can finish. “What have you been doing the past three days…hm?”

“I uh…” he stammers and looks up at you with watery puppy eyes. “Working. But…there were some things I didn’t do…”

“Yeah like talk to me.”

“Tsk. Stop. Just because we’re doing this doesn’t mean I’ve become a complete nympho. Honestly.” He rolls his eyes and looks away. “I was going to text you tomorrow anyways. I haven’t touched myself since that night we texted…haven’t…” he shifts under your weight and you feel a slight throb.

“Oh…is three days a long time for you? Hmm?”

He chuckles a little and squeezes the shark. “It’s…” he snorts when he laughs and hides his face. You move his hands and he chuckles a little more. What a beautiful sound. You realize you could recognize it anywhere and be better for it. “Yeah yeah yeah. It's been a long time for me. It’s usually everyday. Twice.”

“You gave up…six orgasms…for me? Of your own free will?”

“I wanted to do eight, gorgeous. I really did. But you texted and…”

“Well who said you were cumming tonight?”

He takes a deep breath and his eyes roll back a little. “My mistake.”

“No no no.” You lean down and kiss his forehead. “You did the right thing. Saving yourself up for me.” Your kisses trail down to his jaw. Fuck his soft and smooth. You gently nip at his earlobe and chuckle softly as he whines with pleasure. “You know what you are?”

“Hmm?” He lets out hazily.

“A good boy. A good puppy. Coming when called. Obeying.” Your nose trails against his and you think for a second that this will be a repeat. You two will snap out of it. But he squirms again and pouts.

“I can be so good…please…”

“I’m not even doing anything to you yet…”

He groans as you slide off him and start palming his crotch.

“Do you know how many times I got off thinking about that video you sent me?”

His cock bobs against your touch as he groans pathetically. “N-no…no idea. It wasn’t much…”

You start to stroke him. Oh he’s needed this. His hips buck up into hand as he white knuckles the stuffed shark. Mumbled pleas fall from his pretty lips as you ask him what he’s hiding in his sweats. Your fingers slide under his waistband. His moans are whiny and whimpering.

“Such a puppy.”

You slide his sweats and underwear slowly…just enough to free his cock. You gasp aloud. “Oh my goodness…Ves…look at you. Look. HEY.” You snap a bit to get his attention. His head is lolling back and you haven’t even touched his uncovered cock yet. “I said to look.”

He looks down and groans again as your manicured hands stroke him. You bite your lip and think about how exquisite it’ll feel inside you. The shark squishmallow is put to the side, and he comes up on his elbows. “Mmm..mm…your hands are so pretty. S’soft. Fuuuuck.” Your strokes are gentle and steady. His hips buck to control the pace but you gently flick his tummy.

“Good boys don’t take.”

He pouts and settles into your bed. He seems to be enjoying himself. His legs twitching, his moans coming more often than not. But you wanted to play. You wanted his brain off. For now he was yours. You stop stroking. “Ves. Look at me.”

He whimpers when you stop and raises his head. The whimper turns into a strangled sob as the long string of spit from your lips coats the head. Your slow, teasing, wet strokes make his face contort like he’s sobbing. “Fffffff….uuuuCK! M-m-mmmm…mommy please.” You freeze and look up at him.

“What was that?”

His face is all panic. “Oh my god oh my god no I’m sorry. It just slipped out…I’ll…fuck…no I’m so sorry.”

You lean forward and shut him up with a tender kiss on the lips. You allow his hands to trail over your ass and breasts, letting his touch linger a bit too long over your nipples. When you pull away, he’s blushing like crazy with hazy, dreamy eyes. “You’re such a good boy,” you whisper.

“T-thank you…mommy.”

You slip out of your clothes and relish in his gaze. For the first time you don’t feel like he’s here to be your biggest critic…and you don’t need to mouth off to him. He looks at you with a dopey little grin. “Are you going to use me?”

You chuckle softly as you straddle him again. “You could say that. Make you my little boy toy. Would you like that?”

His whimpering keeps him from answering, probably because you’re teasing the head of his cock with your already wet pussy. “God…please use me. Please…it’s what I’m good for…I’ll make you so happy mommy I promise…please!!”

You blush and forget yourself for a bit when he brings one of his hands to his face. He looks adorable. He needs to be held. He needs kisses. “Give me a hand, puppy. Hold yourself still.”

He reaches down and holds his cock as you slide down. He hisses in pleasure and whines as you moan from the stretch. You grasp his chest as his cock disappears into your pretty pussy, your head thrown back and mouth wide open. Vessel’s breath is coming hard and fast as he touches you. He’s bottomed out inside you and he doesn’t dare move. You haven’t told him to. He needs to be good. The past three days won’t have been worth it if he fucks this up.

You reach back and pat his thigh. “Bend your legs, puppy.”

“Yeah…yeah ok…” he groans out as he obeys. One hand holds his waist while the other trails under his hoodie. He whimpers and bites his lip as you toy with his nipple.

“Lift your hoodie.” He lifts it only to expose his stomach but stops there. You tsk and pull it up so his chest is uncovered…mmm. “Look at my pretty boy…” you whisper as you kiss across his chest. You take in the warmth and natural scent of his skin…how he tastes under your little licks across his nipples…the texture of his skin between your teeth. A delicious chain reaction occurs when his cock throbs hard against you after leaving teeth marks on one of his pecs. “You’re being so good. I didn’t even have to tell you what to do.”

He looks at you hazily. You’ve only been cockwarming him, and he’s already empty headed. He nods dumbly but then yelps when your pussy clenched around him.

“Tell me what you thought about that night…when you made the video.”

He gulps and holds you close to his chest. His cock is buried in your tight pussy but he doesn’t dare move.

“I..heh…I thought about being your seat. Your human mattress.”

You kiss and suck on his neck, admiring the red marks already decorating him. “Oh? You like being squished?”

“I thought about something like this. But you’re…you’re fucking me. You lay on my dead weight and then…” his cock throbs inside you and he whimpers.

“Shh I know,” you kiss his temple and nuzzle his face gently. “It feels so fucking good, huh? You like being under me like this?”

“Mhmmm…so safe…mm soft…fuck!” He holds on to you like he did with the shark plushie, his fingers pressing into your flesh desperately. He grits his teeth as he throbs inside you and whines. “Y-y-you’re so…tight. What the fuuuuuck.”

All this time you’ve been covering his face with kisses, grabbing his chin every time he tried to hide from your affection. His heels dig into your bed as he tries to keep himself from squirming and fucking you.

“Can you be still? Hm?”

“Ye…yeah. Yeah sorry…you just…aahhhh fuck…”

“Use your words, Vessy.”

His eyes roll back and his back arches slightly. “Don’t call me that…makes me feel little…”

“I do have you pinned down…don’t I? You’re the one squirming.”

His eyes are glassy as he pouts. “Are you enjoying this? I…I…don’t feel like you are…”

You consider this for a second.

“I don’t want to keep going if you’re not…” His eyes are desperate. “You need this too…fuck…please tell me you need this. You want this right? Please I’ll make you feel so good…if you just bounce on it a little. Please please…I’ll be such a good boy. You can lay on me and…and…I’ll just be a toy. I can take it…let me show you.”

You don’t even realize you’ve started fucking him. Your hips roll gently, and he lets out an almost pained moan. His hips meet yours and your eyes roll back.

“Fuck…puppy…” your head and vision go a bit fuzzy as he bucks into you and…oh dear.

“Shit shit shit…I’m…I’m sorry…I’m cumming…baby…baby…” he bites his lip and looks up for reassurance as his hands mash you down further on his cock. He hates that he came so fast, it’s clear, but fuck it feels good.

“It’s ok…cum for me…” you whisper.

He lays back and catches his breath. You don’t move…his spent cock still trembling in your pussy. He whimpers pathetically.

“What’s wrong?” You ask. He’s clearly not just coming off his high.

“Fuck I just….” He closes his eyes. “That’s so embarrassing. We barely did anything and I just…came like a fucking virgin. Go ahead.” He covers his eyes with his arm, “make fun of me. Tell me how pathetic I am.” Wow. He already wants to go back to normal.

“No. I don’t think I will.”

You’re still on top of him. Cockwarming him. You gently move his arm and look at him softly. His lips twitch. Not to kiss you, but to try and smile.

“You feel nice on me,” he whispers. “I really like your body. Even…even before we started this. Thought you were pretty.”

You chuckle a little and rest your chin in your hand. “Not sure why.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do you know why I hate you?”

You shake your head and let out a little laugh.

“It’s because you’ve made me realize I don’t have to be miserable. That I could be someone to someone else. But that requires…change. Taking care of my…stupid self. Being better. I can’t have you. You don’t want me as I am. Honestly. I’m a wreck. It’s better for you to hate me and only see me as a plaything.”

His hands trace lazy patterns on your back. How strange it is to have this conversation while he’s inside…but that doesn’t bother you as much as his confession does.

“Vessel. Jesus. I…Ves…I can’t stand you because you’ve never been nice to me. And now you’re saying it’s because you like me too much, yet not enough to get over yourself?”

He winces and sniffs. “It would be easier, getting over myself, rather than trying to not feel something for you.”

You move his face so he’s looking at you again. “Do you want to leave,” you ask. “You don’t have to stay longer than you want.”

Ves cups your face and tries to steady his breathing. “No. No, I don't want to leave. I want to stay and pretend I’m not me for just a little while. Is that ok?” You stare at each other…your breathing syncs…your eyes search other’s face. He strokes your face and purrs softly as his cock begins to stiffen again. Each time it throbs, you whimper, which in turn makes him chuckle softly. His hand slides down to your ass. “I need you. You’re the only one I want to…be with like this.”

“You don’t want this with someone you love.”

His eyes bore through you. He huffs and bites his lip, leaving an indention you swear would break skin. “May I please…may I please fuck you again? Properly. The way you deserve.”

You gasp softly and nod. “Would you like to be on top, puppy?”

His inhale is shuddering and sharp as he nods dumbly. You slide off him and lay beside him on your stomach. Ves seems confused.

“A-a-are you sure? From behind?”

You nod and beckon him closer. He slides off his sweats but you tell him to keep the hoodie on. “How hard are you for me?”

Leaning against you between your legs, he lightly taps his cock on your ass. It’s heavy and feels warm against your curves. He kneads your plush ass and whines a little. “So lucky…I am such..a…lucky…fucking…boy….fuuucckkkk.” He presses into your gushy pussy with a long, pathetic moan. You press against him, and his grip on your hips becomes shaky. “GOD you’re so hot….fuuccckkkkkk.”

You chuckle and moan as he thrusts gently…just trying to create some friction without completely losing his mind. He leans down and you feel the draw strings of his hood tickle your back. You reach behind you.

“What is it?”

“Come here, puppy,” you whisper softly. When he does you’re able to grab the drawstrings…anything to keep him in place. Leash him. Your fingers grip the collar of his hoodie now, and he collapses into you. “You going to be good? Stay right here for me, hm?”

He can’t even speak…he just lets out whimpers and moans that sound like sobs. You can only gasp with each thrust as he blubbers about it feeling “so..so..so..fucking good.” He whines into your shoulder as you pull him closer but the hoodie. “Please…let me…let me touch…please…”

“Mhm…” you let out weakly as he ruts into you. His hand trails down and under you towards your clit. You buck back into him as his nimble fingers find your clit. Cumming on your tummy never came easy, but with an eager lover, you think now it could happen. No matter who’s fingers it was rubbing your puffy clit between his fingers.

“Mm…baby…baby let me bad. Please I know…i know…i know… I’m good boy but please let me bad…”

You grip your pillow and groan as your pussy quakes around his long cock. He takes this and your slutty, high pitched moan as consent. He takes your wrists in one hand and grips them roughly. You would be concerned about bruises if you weren’t seeing stars from the way his cock’s head rubs against your g-spot. He lets out something like a growl as he fucks you faster and harder. You’re mashed into the bed and cumming for the second time as he grabs you tight and bites your shoulder. You yelp and moan pathetically.

“Ves you’re so bad….you’re so…fucking naughty….” You’re cumming again as you lift your ass like you want him to mount you even deeper. He takes a break just to feel your orgasm squeeze him and to catch his breath. You let go of his hoodie, and he quickly rips it off. A sharp spank lands on your ass…he hisses with pleasure as he watches the skin of your ass cheek pinken before he lands another on you.

“May…may I roll you over…please” he asks as he pulls out of you and rolls you over. It’s almost adorable how he toes the line between the asshole you know and a precious submissive boy. He spreads your legs, putting one up against his chest as he presses his cock back into you. One hand grasps your tummy and the other holds your ankle for leverage. “You’ve ruined me…” he moans as your name falls from his lips. Over. And over. And…over. He nibbles and kisses your ankle as he presses hard on your squishy lower tummy. His gasps come hard as it’s quite clear he’s reaching his limit.

“Ves…you’re gonna make me…fuck…I’m…”

“That’s it. Please…I want to see it…I need it…you’re so …ffffucking gorgeous….” he grabs you harder and rams into you with a powerful groan, his eyes wild as he exhales and bites his lip. “You’re…you’re going to cum…so….FUCKING hard on me…you won’t be able to cum again without thinking about me…Fffffuuuhhh”

His face contorts as his second orgasm ripples through his entire body. The thrusts become short, hurried bumps against your pussy as your back arches. You begin to rub your clit in rough, hurried circles as he fucks his cum hard into you. His eyes are misty as he mumbles about what a pretty angel you are…how good you’re taking his dick when…oh god…

A few moments later, he’s pulled out of you, looking down at the mess you made. You had never…ever squirted. And this…well…Vessel did that. You had no energy to hate. To be mean. Everything was different now. “I…wow…”

“Ever done that before?”

You lay back and catch your breath, wiping your watering eyes, shaking your head. “No…so…thanks I guess.”

He rubs your thighs and chuckles. “You’re amazing. Do you know that?”

You smile up at him and chuckle.

“Christ, what?”

“You’ve ruined it.”

“Oh…fuck off..ruined what?” He laughs and runs his fingers through his hair.

“My plans to die alone and hate you forever…thanks a lot.”

“Likewise, sweetheart.”

#sleep token fanfiction #vessel smut #sleep token vessel #sleep token smut #vessel x you #vessel x reader #vessel x reader smut #sleep token x reader #save me fruity british boy #wolfie's squeaky toy #wolfie's scribbles

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queers-gambit · 11 months ago

Text

The Battle Above the God’s Eye

part one: Sands of Time

prompt: decades after the Stepstones, it's his turn to be rescued.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 6.3k+

note: i'm not the happiest with this piece, so i'll most definitely (probably) write an alternative when the time comes and the show does the Battle. y'all know me by now, you know i love me a good ol' reader-insert and i didn't want to wait years to publish some kind of sequel so here we are.

warnings: reader isn't explicitly a Targaryen but we had to make this work and i'm burnt the fuck out. so fuck it, dragon rider reader. cursing, books spoilers, violence, imagination required, maybe Red Priestess reader, mention of more Little Birds (let author live), toxic family (duh), heavily encouraged imagination, depictions of death, angst, some hurt and comfort i think ? missing warnings 'cause wonky brain goin' wonky.

"There's rumor, Mistress, of a dragon the color of night," the hooded figure informed. "It nests in the Ruins of Ancient Valyria, seen by farmers and countryfolk; they say his wings beat like thunder. It's a colossal shadow they fear to engage, but after hearing your ransom, they reported it."

You hummed as you took a sip of scalding tea, finding comfort in the heat, musing, "I've been to the Ruins myself on two seperate excursions, I promise you, friend, there is no dragon that nests there."

"It's come from the East, a new beast in the sky."

"I require proof if I am to pay the ransom."

The man with a hood over his head reached for his rucksack and rummaged, a moment later, placing two items on the polished mahogany table between you both. One was unmistakably a dragon's tooth, and when you examined it, there was still clotted blood on the root - assuring it was a fresh pull. The second was a large black scale that weighed at least a dagger's worth.

You smirked, "This is promising. Where in the Ruins has it been seen? Who procured these artifacts?"

You discussed specifics with the man for an hour, offering him a hefty finder's fee after getting the name of the village the man had gathered his own information from. It was a messy journey from there; leaving the home you had made in the decades since the Stepstones to head for what was probably another dead end in Ancient Valyria. You were something akin to a magistrate, the people saw you as a figurehead, a leader; their person of authority who they were all too happy to follow.

Your village flourished, growing in size, number, popularity, and strength by the passing day. The people seemed happy, wealth flowing from exports and trade, and apparently, a few cartographers have begun the process of updating a few maps to add your village's name to history.

Much had changed in your time away from your Rogue Dragon Prince, but you knew that was all coming to an end soon. Your Lord of Light had shown you much in your flames, one of which was a repeating image of you, mounted atop a dragon all your own, soaring over the Narrow Sea with distinct purpose. You weren't a Targaryen, but your religious devotion seemingly gave you the ability to walk amongst beasts and their flames.

Exploring Ancient Valyria took over a year on foot.

You had plenty of encounters with the Stone Men, but all met their merciful demise - those left after that steered clear of you and your Valyrian Steel sword. Around the ruins of the ancient volcano that hadn't erupted since The Doom, you found a graveyard of goat, sheep, and cattle bones. There were bigger skeletons of aquatic creatures, something you found incredibly fascinating - what fully grown dragon went deep diving?

Soon, you found scat. For those who don't spend time in the wilderness or who are simply unfamiliar with the term, "scat" refers to waste produced by wild animals. Yeah, you're reading correctly, after you found the plethora of skeletons, you found dragon shit.

So, you knew you were closer than before. But the fucker still alluded you to the point you felt insane circling the Ruins.

You located about three different potential caverns, investigating them all with caution, but finding them all empty. Feeling exhausted from the months of searching, you claimed one of the caves as your own; hunting for a meal after gathering adequate fire wood. You listened to the untamed wilds of Valyria as you ate whatever you roasted, trying to distinguish familiar sounds of an approaching dragon.

Or perhaps even a distant one!

You'd take any sign!

It'd been weeks since you found the dragon droppings, no other signs appearing. You would search new areas for days, then return to your cave for rest; feeling disconnected from reality the longer you lingered in the ruined empire. You wondering what your village was doing, you were curious if the young woman, Ferona, had a baby boy or girl, if they had erected the new buildings you left blueprints for in an effort to create opportunist housing and houses of worship - as your people had requested.

How did the krill and shrimp season fair? What weddings happened this past spring? How was the irrigation system holding up?

Weeks drug by slowly. Weeks turned to longer months. Two years, you spent in that Gods forsaken ruin of a city - but couldn't find it in you to abandon your search.

Your Lord of Light had yet to send word, yet set your heart ablaze every time you "decided" to go home. You stared into the flames every night, desperate for any indication you were on the right path, but nothing was seen - nothing was said - nothing was shown to you. Until one night, during a torrential downpour and thunderous storm, you were shivering, drenched to your core, fighting the wind to let you keep your flames alive.

And there, in the dying, flickering warmth, you saw it. With wide, unblinking eyes, you stared into the flames harder; unsure how long you remained in the tranquil state before a particularly strong gust of wind nearly pushed you face-first into the embers. You gasped, looking around as the smoke nearly choked you as it filled the cave; stumbling out into the rain as you coughed and patted your chest. Stumbling slightly from malnourishment and delirium, you leaned on the outer shell of your "home", panting with relief before there came a screech so fearsome, you were then cowering into the wall with fear.

You dropped to your knees, huddled into the rock formation; the ground trembling as something enormous touched down. You gasped when through the haze of sideways rain, two nostrils flared and heaved thick plumes of smoke; reddened from the ignited flames deep within an invisible chest. You flattened against the wall, four taloned paws striking the ground and causing it to crack, quake, and tremble. With the fleeting clouds, you used the moon's light to distinguish the beast that loomed closer to you; over you; and then, in your face.

A long, blackened snout nearly pressed into your chest; fabric of your tunic caught in the razor sharp teeth. You had faced death, you had faced beasts, you had faced hacking axes and swinging swords. You had faced the wrath of the Queen Alysanne's court, the rumors of the common folk, and judgment from both man and God. But nothing was like this moment: a wild dragon staring you down, sniffing your chest and stomach, debating if it should just open it's mouth and eat you whole yet or not.

Thankfully, it chose an alternative route.

You're not fully sure how it happened, but you dedicated two years to finding this terrible beasty, and yet, it only took about 6 weeks to bond with the (obviously) young thing. Time with your Dragon Prince proved most useful, creating a bond so secure, you were beginning to wonder if someone deep in your bloodline had mated with a Targaryen. It was natural, the way you both became accustomed to one another; living together on a carbon-dated land long doomed.

The lessons from Daemon came flying back to you. You practiced your High Valyrian, laughing when you obviously got a word or two wrong because the dragon would snort at you. In the light, she was still the color of the night, but her scales were dusted the same gold as her eyes. She was impressive, she was huge in size but nowhere near Vhagar. In fact, you'd wager she had outgrew Caraxes - the only dragon you had true experience with.

Speaking of Caraxes, you were on the shores of Old Valyria, debating how you were going to convince your new companion to join you back "home" in the village, when suddenly, your beast gave a defensive growl.

Looking to the skyline, you spotted the distant dragon and frowned. This dragon wasn't the color of flames like Caraxes was, no, instead, it was a murky blob in the sky with two wings. You offered calming words to your dragon in her native language, not sensing danger, but your beast was unhappy leaving you in the open. Her tail curled around you to corral you back into her body as the muddy brown dragon landed with a thunderous shake a respectable distance away.

Your name was begged by the rider descending from who you recognized as a wild dragon by the name of Sheepstealer.

"Nettles? That you, love?" You asked in skepticism, managing out of your dragon's grasp. "What're you doing here? You all right?"

"I needed to find you," she panted. "I-I need you help - it's all - it's all gone wrong! Please!"

"What's wrong? The fuck's happened?"

"Do you know nothing, Auntie!? Do you know nothing of the war!?"

Your eyes rolled, "Watch that tone with me, girl. The Dance of Dragons is of no concern of mine, it had barely started when I came here."

"Well - it's your concern now," she insisted. "You took me under your wing - you helped raise me in a village you built from the ground, despite not ever needing to - "

"Your mother was a dear friend of mine," you cut her off sharply. "She was kind to me when I came back to Essos, let me stay with her and your father. When I set out on my own, she was always a friendly face, and when my settlement was established..."

"She came to you for help after getting pregnant with me," Nettles nodded. "You've told me this before."

"Then you should know better by now that I owed your mother more than my life, so, raising you was the least I could've done. A life for a life."

"And as such, you let me go into the world with stories filling my head of a handsome Dragon Prince that saved you from the Crabfeeder!" You scoffed at her words, ready to argue, but she rushed, "He's in trouble, Auntie."

You paused, finding no lie in the girl's eye. Slowly, you asked, "Come again?"

"I found him, Mistress," she nodded. "After I got back to Westeros, I found your Prince Daemon - the ones from the stories! He's... He's brutish and harsh, they call him Rogue, but he was kind to me when I told him I knew you. When he heard your name, Lady, he just - he insisted on keeping me close. He protected me, even against his wife - Princess Rhaenyra."

Your head cocked, "Hmm... He usually did have a taste for younger flesh. I'm not surprised he took to you - "

"No, no, no, Mistress, not like that," she insisted desperately. "He was kind, educational - similar to a mentor."

"I see."

"He needs your help."

"Prince Daemon does not need rescuing, he is no damsel."

"He searches for Prince Aemond," she informed, making you lift your chin slightly. Though lost in the wild of Valyria the past two years, you were still well versed in the affairs of King's Landing; staying updated, curtesy of your Lord, the Lord of Light: R'hllor. In your village, you were known to pay for any accurate information - eventually hiring your own spies to relay trustworthy information from around surrounding cities and villages. Nettles was one of your Little Birds.

You sighed, "And? What of it - Aemond killed Lucerys, did he not? Since he married his niece, her children are now his step-children, right? Daemon is within his rights to want some form of vengeance - it's war, Nettie, it's never fair to anybody.

"He will not survive this, you don't understand! It's horrible, Mistress, please, he-he-he's deranged. Mad with grief, lost to his wife's useless fucking war. It'll be the death of him, Auntie, please!" She paused, seeing you just stare back at her; so she begged again, "Please!"

You nodded, "What do you want me to do, Nettie? Hmm?"

"You've told me those stories! I remember them well! You always said he came back for you, saved you from The Crabfeeder," she reminded, making you stiffen. "Does he not deserve the same? Or at least a chance? Rhaenyra will not help, she'll kill him herself I fear, but you can - you can help!"

You nodded, "I will consult the flames - "

"I am telling you - "

"I have heard you, girl!" You snapped, glaring at your Little Bird. "But there are greater forces at work than what you know, I cannot just so willfully trust the word of a child before flying off across the Narrow Sea. Allow me my time with my Lord, I will have an answer for you." Turning from her, you gathered whatever materials you could; setting it up in a small teepee before stepping back.

In High Valyrian, you gave your command. From over your shoulder, your beasty opened her mouth and shot a single flame at the structure.

On your knees, you muttered repeatedly; chanting, summoning your Lord of Light to come to you now in a great hour of need. And He did. Through the flames, you saw what R'hllor wanted to show you: the two Princes engaged in a brutally epic fight that would claim them both in the end...

Unless you left right that moment, as your Lord commanded.

"Make yourself safe, Nettles, go back home," you told her in a rush, catching the pouch of Gold Dragons she tossed you when you sprung into action - and for the first time, mounted your dragon. Like your minds were connected, the Great Shadow took to the sky - leaving Nettles and Sheepstealer behind, and you'd never see either again.

You remained high in the sky, being a blob to the naked eye should any dare to stare at the sun.

You only paused to let the Great Shadow dive into the Narrow Sea for a meal; surfacing with creatures in her jaws as you swam an exhausting broad stroke. Was it terrifying to swim in the open water? Absolutely, but your dragon seemingly kept any threats at bay. When she was satisfied with her meal, the Great Shadow scooped you onto her back and relaunched into the air again to continue your flight for Westeros. You both dried in the air.

The trip was draining.

It was grueling on you both.

Yet when you saw the distant shore, you couldn't help the spike of relief in your heart and veins.

Once in Westeros, you were forced to ground yourselves in the open area of the Stormlands because you needed to know where to go since Nettles hadn't been sure where to send you specifically. Using the usual thunderstorm as cover, you had to separate from the Great Shadow; leaving her in the dark as you ventured to the closest village.

With the pouch of Gold Dragons Nettles gave you, you paid for information that you needed. You were told all the nitty gritty details about the Dance of the Dragons that you've missed, understanding what (Nettles and) the Lord of Light had been trying to tell you for years: the Black Queen would be Prince Daemon's death.

The time had come for you to return his favor from the Stepstones. If this worked the way you wanted it to, you wouldn't be his first, second, nor third wife, but his fourth and final. You knew what you had to do.

"What do you know of their whereabouts?" You asked the innkeeper who wiped down the bar you leaned on.

"The Princes?" She asked, tisking right after. "The One Eyed Prince has been burning the Riverlands for almost two weeks now. The Rogue Prince was in Maidenpool but he's called his nephew to meet him at, uh, oh... Oh, bullocks, what's that haunted castle? The one that was torched?"

"Harrenhal?"

She snapped her fingers at you, "That's the one!"

"Fuckin' Hell," you muttered, wiping your eyes. "What's your thinking, love? 'Bout this war?"

She scoffed, rolling her eyes, "Stupidest thing I've endured so far. How silly, the House of the Dragon does not know who rules it, or so says our liege lord. So we must all pay their price in Fire and Blood."

You nodded slowly, "Who do you think holds the better claim t'the Throne?"

"Depends on your views," she muttered, "but in truth, it doesn't matter to me - so long as this all comes to an end. But between us?" She leaned in, glancing around before muttering, "The Bitch Queen would burn us all. Can't say if King Aegon would be much better, but at least we'd know what we were dealing with."

"And if he was another Maegor?"

"Can't be worse than the Black Queen. Hear they call her Maegor with Tits."

You smirked, chuckling lightly, "Thank you, ma'am, for your words." You offered her a few Gold Dragons, repeating, "Harrenhal?"

"Harrenhal," she nodded, accepting the payment. "I do not know if the One Eyed Prince will answer the Rogue Prince's challenge, but that is where he lures Prince Aemond - Harrenhal. Now, how's about a nice bowl of stew? You look drenched, love, and a bit skinny - you been eatin'?"

"Your kindness is refreshing in this shit-for-a-kingdom."

You winked at her and tapped the bar in parting before turning for the door, and into the rain you ventured once more. You didn't notice the cold, your Lord kept you warm and moving; finding the Great Shadow, mounting, and shooting off into the unknown sky again.

It wasn't easy directing a dragon without a saddle nor any stabilizing reins, yet your beast was something of a decently smooth fly. You minimally directed her as you went, but in truth, her instincts directed you both more than anything. When the storm broke, you were soon flying over charred scores of land; homes smoldering and burning, the wind spreading the embers and never letting the fire fully die out.

"The fuck..." You muttered, sitting up straight as you flew through the carnage. "Seven Hells, he burnt it all, didn't he?" You whispered, needing to hold onto the spinal ridges of your dragon to keep balanced. "Gods be good," you gaped at the damage beneath you.

The sun moved into position, getting ready to set when you heard the horrible screams of feuding dragons. You couldn't see Harrenhal yet, but you heard the fight, and then, as the sun began to set, there came flashes of bright firelight that lit the sky to a new level.

It was nearly the shade of daylight with the way the flames danced against the setting sun. You were desperate to get closer, and after directing the Great Shadow over a set of charred rolling hills, you finally had Harrenhal in sight. "Go! Go, please! That's them - we need t'get there!" You begged through a small sob of panic, and if possible, your dragon flew all the faster.

You were so close, yet felt so far.

The air trembled when the pair of dragons, Vhagar and Caraxes, collided in the sky once more. They grappled and snarled and shrieked and blew flames and gnashed their teeth and slashed their talons. You paid no mind to the pregnant woman standing on the shoreline of the lake they fought over, and instead, focused on your task; feeling as if you were moving on pure instinct and adrenaline.

The Great Shadow dove low to the lake's surface as Caraxes and Vhagar came barreling to the ground. It all happened too fast. As the two dragons fell, you saw one man - in black armor - leap from his crimson beast with his Valyrian sword winking in the dying light. Just as his arm extended to pierce Dark Sister into Aemond's blind eye, the dragons were tussling enough to turn over and forced Daemon off their hide.

You gasped as you reacted - no fucking thought to your actions.

As the Great Shadow glided over the surface of the Gods Eye lake, you were leaping off her back to launch into the air; tackling the Rogue Prince hard enough to disrupt his impact on the water's surface. You hit the water all the same, but instead of it being like hitting fresh pavement, it was a softer landing due to the Great Shadow's expert and quick maneuvering.

Two dragons hit the water, three human bodies; sending a wave of water higher than the towers of Harrenhal's fortress. It was a shock to land in something so wet and cold, but your adrenaline was stronger than any feeling of freezing water. Your arms kept an iron-clad lock around Daemon's unconscious waist, surfacing as the lake rippled and churned from impact; turning a seeping red from the open wounds on the dragon sinking into the depths.

Prince Aemond never surfaced, and years from now, he'd be found still chained to Vhagar's saddle with Dark Sister still stabbed through his skull. His Red Witch standing on shore couldn't save him, it appearing that your Lord preferred the Rogue Prince to the One Eyed.

Keeping Daemon afloat was difficult, but to your shock, you were being gently propelled forward to the shore by a fatally injured Caraxes. You encouraged him best you could, trying not to choke on the water splashing around your frantic forms. When you were able, you started heaving and dragging Daemon up the lake's embankment; the crimson dragon crawling out of the lake behind you, slowly, heading towards Harrenhal. You wanted to offer the loyal beast aid or comfort, but you were much too preoccupied with his master that was dead weight in the water's surf.

You trembled as you swiftly hoisted his dragon winged helmet off to leave bobbing in the surf; unhooked his armor, shucking it off him and compressing his chest rapidly - just like a fisherman taught you to do.

"C'mon," you grunted. "C'mon, Daemon, breathe - fucking breathe, damnit! Please, come back to me - don't do this. I just found you again, c'mon, my Prince, breathe. Breathe, Daemon, don't give up - not now, not on us! Don't give up on us, c'mon, my Prince, breathe, w-we finally have our time." Sobs wracked your form. "Breathe, Daemon, please! Please! I'm back - I finally found you, please, my love, breathe!"

You shoved harder into his breast bone with increased ferocity until water came suddenly spewing from his lungs. You heard the Great Shadow land in the near distance, turning Daemon on his side to help him breathe better; choking the water out. You spoke in relief, "There, there you go, c'mon, love, breathe! Thank fucking Gods, you're all right, you're okay, get it out - you're okay, just breathe, my love."

Daemon choked your name in pure disbelief, holding one of your wrists in a vice grip that only briefly concerned you. He panted and relaxed into the embankment, loosening his grip as he turned over to look up at you in shock and wonder. "How is this possible?" He wheezed.

"It's a bit of a long story," you teased softly, caressing his cheek. "Bit of a boring tale, 'M afraid."

"How? How is - how can this be?"

"You needed me," you explained, "thought I'd return the favor since you saved me all those years ago, huh? You got me out of the sea, I got you out of the lake - we're even, yeah?"

He still panted, only staring at you as if he couldn't believe himself. "You've not aged a day," he whispered.

You smiled, petting his cheekbone with your thumb daintly. "You need rest, reprieve, aid," you whispered.

"No, no," he gulped, "not when I just got you back. T-Tell me 's done. Tell me we're done being apart."

"You have a wife still, Daemon. She won't let you go, she wouldn't let us be together."

"Tell me what your flames say."

"Now you trust my flames?"

"When they bring you back to me, yes - oh, fuck yes, I'll believe whatever those fucking flames say. Please, love, for us - consult your flames, tell me what they've said."

You frowned, petting a soaking wet lock of hair from his forehead. Quietly, you whispered, "My Lord showed me what was to pass if I did not come for you... This war, this Dance of Dragons, would claim your life, Daemon. Your wife, your niece... She'll be the end of you, my Prince. You will not survive if you go back to her. Neither of you will survive this... My Lord has shown me that Rhaenyra will meet her end in flames, but following her will cost you your life in water," you glanced at the lake. "Not a death befitting of a Targaryen Prince."

"And now?"

"Now, she will fight her own battles for the first time," you whispered, "and I will return home, and you will make a choice."

He smirked, "We've gone lifetimes apart, like you said before."

"We have."

"I would not go another day," he coughed, wincing in pain. "I do not think I can fight anymore anyways, love. Please... Please."

Daemon never begged. You swallowed harshly, asking him, "No? No more fighting?"

"No," he agreed. "'M so tired, my sweet. I-I can't do this forever," he half-slurred, making you perk up slightly in attention. "Retirement sounds all too appealing now. Rumor will spread that neither Aemond or I lived, it'll be the perfect escape."

You nodded in agreement, flinching when a new voice screeched, "YOU BITCH!"

The pregnant woman you saw on shore stormed towards you, making you chuckle dryly as you had already foreseen this Alys Rivers - pregnant concubine of the One Eyed Prince Aemond and fellow Follower of R'hllor. Alys was unique in the sense that her training was decent enough to ensnare Aemond (it seemed), but not so decent that the Lord yet favored her.

She wasn't more than ten feet from you when the Great Shadow opened her mouth and showered the Red Witch in holy flames; an end she surely did not see coming - not that R'hllor would've showed her. This all caught Daemon's attention, who flinched slightly when he had to turn and look; not expecting the flames nor the beast.

Then his eyes drifted over the land, breathing hitching, and he sat up with a painful groan. "Daemon," you worried, but instead of trying to get him down, you helped him up.

You knew what he saw.

When at Caraxes' side, you helped Daemon lower to his knees at his dragon's head. He whimpered and moaned, belly slashed open, wing torn apart; bleeding out into the cold soil he rested on. The Great Shadow moaned gently in sympathy, lowering herself around you three to let you grieve in peaceful, protective privacy and ease Caraxes to his next life.

The moon was fully in the sky when the crimson bloodwyrm took his final breath with the ebony giant's flames to warm you all. You weren't sure what could be done, but Daemon was pressing a tender kiss to his dragon's head before turning to face you - a lost, confused, vulnerable look coating his features. "Come on, love," you eased gently, helping him to his feet; knowing a few ribs were shattered and probably his clavicle, too.

"Where will we go now?"

"Well, I have somewhere safe for us t'live," you grunted in assurance, wobbling a little under his weight. "But we need rest for tonight. Any ideas?"

"I doubt anyone will venture to Harrenhal this night, should be safe..."

You agreed, and together, you and Daemon settled in the empty castle with the Great Shadow resting on the outskirts of the Keep. She was too big for the interior of the courtyard, so, she was left outside with Caraxes' corpse as you and Daemon settled in the room he had commandeered.

"How is this possible? How can you be here?" He asked, holding your hips as you worked between his spread legs. Daemon had minimal supplies at the ready; hopping up on a work bench to let you care for his injuries and wounds. He watched your every move with a softening look. "I thought I wouldn't ever see you again, that I'd be cursed to only remember you in my dreams. Rhaenyra said I say your name a lot at night, when I sleep."

"I'm really here, Daemon, ease yourself," you offered an assuring grin, tending to the head wounds he obtained from the fight.

"How?"

"Nettles."

"What?"

"Nettles," you repeated with a smirk. "She's one of my Little Birds, Daemon. It was not entirely coincidence she found you..."

"So she said," he frowned. "But how - "

"She told me you needed me," you smiled softly. "And when I consulted the flames, I was shown what could be. I made a decision, I just wanted you safe, no matter what that meant."

"I just want you. Fuck," he seethed, squeezing your hips, "'s been fucking decades since I've even touched you."

"You're delirious," you teased. "Sleep deprived, maybe concussed."

"Perhaps all at once, but I finally have all I've dreamt of. Please," he whispered, "do not deny us longer. I've endured lifetimes - "

"Daemon, being here and now, you know I can't walk away. But we've time t'talk it all out, I need you to let me help your wounds - so sit still."

He nodded, "One thing I do not understand, though - the dragon? How did you...?"

"Spent two years in Valyria, looking for her."

"Why were you there?"

"Searching for a dragon, of course," you smirked. "She's impressive, isn't she? And from her size, I wager she can easily support us both back across the Narrow Sea."

He grit his teeth when you cleaned his open cuts and wounds, wrapping whatever clean cloth you had around the larger wounds; easing him out of his tunic to have better access to the blackened ribs he sported. "Would you tell me?" Daemon whispered some time later.

"Of what?"

"Your life since the Stepstones?"

"Oh," you chuckled, "sweet love, you know it was dreadfully boring without you."

"Doesn't seem it, you being in Valyria two years? That's not heard of, what was it like? How'd you survive? Why go looking for a dragon?"

This lead to you both laying in bed, hands held together, resting, but not sleeping. You just spoke quietly, fingertips tracing idly over each other's faces; sharing in each others lives that the other missed, reminiscing together in fond memories.

When morning broke, you had to move swiftly. Caraxes was left where he laid and after a final parting to the loyal beast and commandeering his saddle, together, you and Daemon mounted the Great Shadow. She wasn't a fan of the restraints, but once you and Daemon were mounted, she did not fuss as it was evident you humans had an easier time with the leather contraption.

"I must confess," Daemon whispered in your ear, using you as an anchor and leaning into your back, "I fear I might feel something akin to guilt for fleeing home."

"That's natural," you assured, "you're leaving family behind, 's never easy."

"There was no winning this war," he admitted, sighing. "I lead so many to their death... Destroyed my family - "

"From what I have heard, this is not your doing," you argued sharply. "That night, when Aemond attacked Lucerys, what were you to do? Leave that kind of atrocity without consequence? No, that is not in the Targaryen's nature. You did not start this war, Daemon."

"But I knew..."

"You knew what?"

"I knew Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were Harwin Strong's, not Laenor Velaryon's. We thought if we married her sons to my daughters, nobody would care much else about lineage - but we were wrong."

"It's okay to be wrong," you promised, leaning your head back to let your forehead rest against his temple. "It's okay to make mistakes or have regret. Tell me, do you wish to return to your wife? I will take you now, no quest - "

"No. No, I do not wish to leave you. This is... This is Rhaenyra's war, I've done my part. I'm free and finally with whom I belong."

"Now it's time to heal," you told him.

"Time to rest," he agreed, squeezing your waist and placing a few kisses to your neck. "This is where I should've been all this time... After the Stepstones, I should've stayed with you, none of this would've come to pass. I regret leaving you everyday - "

"I told you, for us to get here, to this point, now, we had to separate. But look where we are," you smiled back at him, the Great Shadow soaring higher in the sky to keep Westeros at a distance, "we will not be apart again. 'S you and me, love... Until our end, which we will greet together."

Daemon's lips found yours at long last, whispering, "Together," against them before sweeping his tongue against yours.

The port was lovely this time of day, sun high in the sky to give light to the fishermen and vendors hard at work. Sailors made port, calms were being shucked, different Aristocats trying to barter and trade on their journeys abroad. You smiled at the people you passed, grateful to be home after a prolonged absence; arm looped tight with Daemon's as you both strolled the pier.

"It's hard to imagine you've done all this in a lifetime or less," he mused, a hand folded over yours, dressed in the best clothes you could find. "It's s marvel, my sweet," his compliment was sincere.

"Thank you," you whispered, hugging his arm as your skirts swished around your ankles, just tickling your bare feet. "This season's expected to be bountiful," you told him, pointing to the various teams bringing crustaceans, fish, and other sea life in different crates and traps. "I expect there won't be much of an off-season."

He glanced around, "And you don't collect taxes?"

"Why would I?" You scoffed. "We're more dynamic than that. Everyone works for their place, if you wanted to think of it that way. They are not expected to contribute, but the village seems happier that way. Being close knit, helping one another, sharing wealth. No one person has complained, so, I figure it's working so far. Even if it didn't work, I still wouldn't charge them taxes - it'd be like charging them to live. Always seemed silly t'me."

"Morning, Mistress!"

"Morning, Don," you beamed, leading Daemon towards the dock. "How are you, kind sir? Looks as if you've been working all day already."

"Aye, up before the sun," he nodded, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. "Wanted t'thank yah, actually."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, yeah, with that dragon? We're hauling in more ships," he chuckled, and just overhead, the Great Shadow glided over them all to head out to sea to fetch another round of ships. "Gets us out there quick, brings us back when done, 's like a wee bit of an assembly line, ain't it?"

You chuckled, "Sounds like it, friend. Uh, Don, have I introduced you to my husband?"

"Husband?" Don grinned, cocking his head, "No, Mistress, I wasn't aware you even had a suitor. Mariam don't tell me much gossip these days," he snickered, referring to his wife. "It's nice t'meet you," he told Daemon, "name's Don, just Don - no, it ain't short for nothin'."

Daemon smirked some, shaking the man's fishy hand boldly, "A pleasure, Don, Just Don."

"Oh, this one's got a bit uh humor, don't he?" Don laughed lightly. "What's your name, lad?"

"Daemon?" A voice answered for you all, and just above you, a little further on the pier, stood an aged Laenor Velaryon.

"Excuse us, Don," you spoke swiftly, confusion marring your features. He understood or sensed the slight tension, backing off to let you approach the "dead" knight.

"Oh, my - Y/N," Laenor breathed, another aged man at his side with what you assume to be his children. No question could be asked yet as your old friend launched himself into your arms, laughing merrily, giving you a tight squeeze with his still-toned arms. "Oh, the Gods are good for this!" He laughed, rocking you slightly, "Oh, how the Seven bless us."

"You're so dramatic," you laughed back, patting him happily until he pulled back. "But I must confess, I am so fucking confused - what is this? How are you here? I thought you died, Laenor, that's what ever spy reported."

"They should've," he nodded, glancing at Daemon, "but perhaps, the explanation will be better received after some wine?" He caressed your cheek in affection before looking at your husband, nodding, "It's good to see you again, my Prince. Or is it King Consort?"

"Neither, just Daemon," he corrected, your heart soaring a little at the idea that he would abandon his title so easily. Yet you knew, there was nothing to go back to for him.

"Well, how about I introduce my family?"

"Family?" You grinned, seeing him present the others.

"My husband," he gestured, giving his name. "And our kids," he introduced the other three.

"How?" You asked simply.

"We found a Red Priest who was willing to officiate the ceremony," Laenor explained, "and the kids were sired by different mothers, too."

"Whores," the husband smiled.

"Huh," you nodded in impression. "Well, perhaps wine is best to hear that tale, as well?"

"Perhaps," Laenor grinned. "Uh, but first, we should find accommodations - "

"Oh, come off it, you're staying with us," you waved. "Your belongings?"

"This is it," he half-shrugged, you eyeing the few rucksacks around their feet, neck, shoulders... "We heard of the prosperity here, thought it was worth the move."

"How right you are," Daemon answered. "Come, old friend." He picked up a few sacks for the kids and you looped your arm with Laenor's to lead the way. How good it was to have your friend back, your husband at your side, and a functioning, happy village with your placement amongst them most important... Everything you could've wished for, it seemed, came true.

And in your womb, a Dragon Seed was planted; soon to make its announcement known. Truly, a happier ending than you thought deserved - but R'hollr worked mysteriously, blessing those deemed worthy to spread his flames.

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

#daemon #prince daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x f!reader #daemon targaryen x female!reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen angst #prince daemon targaryen x fem!reader #prince daemon targaryen x f!reader #prince daemon targaryen x female!reader #prince daemon targaryen imagine #prince daemon targaryen fanfiction #prince daemon targaryen angst

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cece693 · 4 months ago

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Hello (Joe Goldberg x Male! Reader)

Hello. So after however many years, I've decided to begin watching YOU and fell in love. I know Joe's psychotic and a stalker, but how can you look at him and not see a cinnamon roll :)

Summary: A new customer has entered the bookstore and, unsurprisingly, caught the attention of Joe Goldberg. After his disappointment with Beck, can M/N be his one true love?

tags: love at first sight, Joe feeling possessive over male reader, however male isn't what he seems, flirting, fast fast-paced relationship, no smut but hints at it

Hello. And who might you be? Joe’s eyes followed the man. Browsing each aisle with sharp eyes, obviously searching for something but not wanting to ask for help. Dressed in a formal shirt and trousers, it’s clear you work in an office—or perhaps you simply like dressing up. Do you enjoy the attention—the stares that follow you in awe of your beauty? Or perhaps it's a disguise to hide your self-consciousness?

Joe was so focused on analyzing the new customer that he didn’t notice Ethan joining him at the counter, following his gaze. “Wow, what’s up with the weather? First that chick, and now him?” Ethan’s voice broke through Joe’s thoughts, causing him to drop his stare. “What was her name again?” he whispered to himself, snapping his fingers obnoxiously.

Beck. Guinevere Beck.

The person he thought would be his perfect companion was an utter disappointment. When Joe first met her, she seemed perfect—intelligent, charming, and full of life‚ but as time went on, cracks began to show. Beck was just an image she crafted from the people around her, constantly making the wrong choice in matters of her life. Joe tried to fix her but she’d failed—choosing recklessness over stability, lust over love.

Before Ethan could probe further, the new client approached the front desk, holding a book. "I'd like to purchase this." he said, his voice smooth and confident. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced between Joe and Ethan as if he’d heard their conversation from across the room. For the first time, Joe was grateful that Ethan picked up on the unspoken tension, making a half-hearted excuse to leave the counter.

Joe looked up from the book and met the man’s gaze. There was something magnetic about him that he couldn’t ignore. “Finding everything you need?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes betrayed his interest.

The man released a knowing smile that made Joe’s pulse quicken. “I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.” he replied, his gaze never leaving him. There was no mistaking the double meaning behind the man’s words. Swallowing nervously, Joe placed the book in a bag and grabbed the money from the client’s hand. He was thrown off balance; no one had been this direct with him before. It was typically him doing the chasing, the planning—did the man have an ulterior motive? Was he sent by Beck?

The silence wasn’t missed by the stranger, who quickly retracted, his expression softening. “Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s fine,” Joe said, forcing a small smile as he handed the bag over. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice was steadier now, though his heart still raced. “I’m just not used to people being so…upfront.”

“Well, I don’t like wasting time.” The man said with a hint of playfulness. “But I also don’t want to push if you’re not interested.”

Joe’s mind was still reeling, but he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward this stranger. There was something about him—something different, something that made Joe want to take the risk. “I’m interested.” Joe admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud made it more real.

“Good.” the man replied, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Because I’d really like to get to know you better.” Joe nodded, the words lingering in the air between them. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty, but there was something about this moment that felt right. Maybe this stranger was the one meant for him. “I’m M/N, by the way.”

“M/N.” Joe repeated, letting the name settle in his mind. It rolled off his tongue heavenly. M/N Goldberg. Perfect. “I’m Joe.”

Seeing another customer heading their way, Joe watched as M/N reached into their pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my number. Give me a call sometime.”

Joe took the small piece of paper, feeling its weight in his hand. Without another word, M/N turned and left the store, the bell above the door jingling softly as he disappeared from view. Ethan soon returned and began to babble about M/N’s suaveness, yet Joe barely registered his words. His mind was consumed by how M/N made him feel. It was strange being on the receiving end of flirting, but Joe found it exciting and arousing.

It didn’t take long for Joe to call M/N and much less for them to somewhat fall into a relationship. It was never dull—M/N had a way of keeping Joe on his toes, setting his skin on fire with mere words. They kissed only once, a heat-of-the-moment thing as they were walking back to the car after a dinner out. It was brief but electric, leaving Joe wanting more. And today, he was ready to take the next step. Joe had spent enough time letting M/N lead the way, always waiting for him to initiate. It was only fair that he returned the favor.

They had planned to meet at M/N’s apartment tonight, under the guise of watching a movie, but even before M/N could greet him after opening the door, Joe launched himself at the man, kissing him passionately. The impact made M/N stagger back, his hands instinctively grabbing onto Joe’s hips for balance.

“I want you.” Joe murmured, drawing back just enough to speak, his breath warm against M/N’s lips. His eyes were dark with desire, the usual careful composure nowhere to be found.

M/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity of Joe’s actions, but a slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “Well, that’s a hell of a greeting.” he teased, his voice low and husky. But the playful tone didn’t mask the heat in his gaze as he pulled Joe closer, their bodies pressing together. Joe didn’t respond with words. Instead, he captured M/N’s lips again, pouring all the pent-up emotion and desire he had been holding back into the kiss. It was hungry, almost desperate, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t act now, the moment would slip away.

Finally, M/N broke the kiss, both of them panting for breath. He looked at Joe with a mixture of amusement and arousal, his eyes flicking to the open door before returning to Joe’s flushed face. “We should probably get inside before the neighbors get a show.”

Joe nodded, a small, breathless laugh escaping him as he realized just how quickly things had escalated. He stepped back, allowing M/N to close the door behind them. But the moment the door clicked shut, something inside Joe snapped. He grabbed M/N with sudden urgency, pushing him onto the couch with a force driven by pure, uncontainable desire.

Straddling M/N, their lips met again in an all-consuming kiss, filled with a desperate need that neither of them could deny. Clothes were discarded carelessly, tossed aside without a second thought—every touch, every kiss, sent shockwaves through Joe’s body, intensifying the fire that burned within him.

As he looked down at M/N, taking in the sight of his swollen, ruby-red lips and the way his hair had become a tousled mess, something primal surged within him. M/N looked utterly irresistible, and the thought of anyone else seeing him like this, touching him like this, drove Joe wild with possessiveness.

“You’re mine.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he traced his fingers along M/N’s jawline, his touch both tender and demanding.

M/N’s eyes darkened with desire, a small, knowing smile curving his lips. But instead of responding immediately, he shifted beneath Joe, his hands gripping Joe’s hips with a firm, commanding touch. “Are you sure about that?” M/N asked, his voice low and challenging, a playful glint in his eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

Before Joe could respond, M/N took control, flipping their positions so that Joe was the one lying on his back, pinned beneath him. The sudden shift made Joe’s heart race, the thrill of being overpowered sending a shiver down his spine. M/N hovered over him, his gaze intense, his smile widening as he saw the effect it had on Joe. “You like it when I take charge, don’t you?” M/N whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against Joe’s in a teasing kiss, barely giving him a taste before pulling back.

“Say it.” M/N commanded softly, his voice steady and authoritative. His hands trailed down Joe’s sides, his touch both possessive and tender. “Tell me you’re mine, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered shut, his body responding instinctively to the command in M/N’s voice. “I’m yours.” he whispered, the words barely audible as he surrendered completely to the moment. “Only yours.”

“Good,” M/N replied, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Because I don’t like sharing.” He captured Joe’s lips in a searing kiss, his hands exploring Joe’s body with a confidence that left no doubt about who was in control.

#you #joe goldberg #you netflix #x male reader #male reader #love quinn #slasher fandom #slashers #slasher community #joe goldberg x male reader

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atinyfeels · 7 months ago

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Ateez: he says something hurtful to you [3]

Masterlist // part one | part two

author's note: don't mind how rusty it is. its been four years, lets write a part three ♡ hope you enjoy!!

Seonghwa:

The sound of the bell dinging made you look up from your book. A young couple was walking through the door of the book store. They were holding hands and smiling as the older man at the front desk greeted them. You sighed and placed the book in your hands back onto the top shelf. This was the first time in 3 weeks you had managed to push yourself out of bed. Your apartment had become a sad lifeless room that you struggled to even call home.

Feeling like you made a mistake, you turn around and began walking towards the exit. As you opened the door, the cold spring air pushed towards you. Your apartment building wasn't far from the bookstore, a mere 5 minute walk. You were almost there when you noticed a man standing outside the door. He had his hood up and his jacket hood over his head, but you could recognize him from a mile a away.

"Seonghwa?" You call out, making the man look up and over at you. It was indeed him, he was dressed in all black and looked as if he hadn't slept. You walked up to him and stared at him for a moment before speaking again. "Do you want to come inside?"

He didn't verbally say anything, instead he only nodded yes. You opened the door to the building and walked up the stairs towards your apartment on the 3rd floor. When you both walked inside, you closed the door behind you and looked at him. He was scanning around the room, as if he was looking for something he had forgotten.

"What are you doing here, Seonghwa?" You asked, making him pause and look up at you.

"I think I forgot something," his words sounding more like a question.

You furrowed your eyebrows and crossed your arms over your chest. It had been 3 weeks since you seen him, what could he have forgotten this late? "Do you know what it is? If it shows up, I can drop it off another day."

He shook his head. "The thing is, I didn't forget anything."

"What do you-" he cuts you off, "I've been thinking of things to say, excuses that would make me come back here. Come back to see you. But the only thing I could think of was, I messed up. These past 3 weeks have been torture without you."

You blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what he was trying to say. "But you said...you said you didn't love me anymore. You were the one who packed up your things and left me."

"I-I know. I don't know what I was thinking at the time. The group was at a high popularity stage and we weren't seeing each other so often. You & I barely spoke and at the time I thought, maybe that's what I wanted. But when I told you I didn't love you and I saw the look on your face, I knew it wasn't what I wanted. But I couldn't take it back."

You swallowed hard, trying to fight the tears that you didn't even realize were appearing. "So what are you trying to say?"

"I don't want to be apart from you. I want to be your boyfriend, I want to stay by your side even when it gets rough. I want to make up for how much I hurt you during these past few weeks. Please, Y/N, let me come home."

Clearing your throat you continued to stare at him. "You're going to have a lot to make up for."

"I know," he says stepping forward and pulling you into a tight embrace.

Hongjoong:

You opened your front door to find a delivery driver standing there with a bouquet and a tablet.

"Y/N?" he asks, making you nod as before you sign your name on the tablet. "Have a nice day."

Before you even responded, he started making his way down the hall. Sighing, you closed the door behind you and grabbed the note that was attached to the vase. "I'm really sorry." You put the card back onto the holder and walked into the dining room. Ten other bouquets were covering your table, all of them with different messages, all from the same person. You placed the bouquet down on the table before pulling your phone out and dialing your boyfriend's number.

It didn't take him long to answer with an out of breath, "hello?"

Mentally, you smacked yourself in the face. "You must be a practice, I'll call you later."

"NO!" He shouts before you even get a chance to pull the phone away from your ear. "We were just about to take a break so you called at a good time."

For some reason, you felt as if that was a lie but you kept it to yourself. "I'm just calling to ask you when you're going to stop sending me endless amounts of flowers? My dining table is running out of room at this point."

"So you got my flowers!" He said in a more cheerful tone, "Did you like them?"

You sigh running your finger along one of the petals, "I'm not really a roses type of person. But they are pretty."

"Really? I'll have to change the flowers. Maybe I should've gone with a variety instead of all the same flower," he rambled, mostly talking to himself.

"Joong," you say, cutting him off. "You have to stop sending me flowers, I don't have room for them."

"I want to make up for the things I said the other day. They were hurtful and I was putting myself before you." He tells you, his tone changing to a more serious tone.

"I was in the wrong too," you confess, finally admitting to yourself that he wasn't the only one in the wrong in this situation. "I was being petty when I called Yeosang instead of you. I really wanted to tell you but I was being too stubborn about our fight. I'm sorry for how I treated you."

"Does this mean I can come home now?"

You chuckle and roll your eyes, "you were always allowed to come back home."

Yunho:

"She's my girl, isn't she?" San says loudly, laughing as he and Wooyoung go over what was said in your classroom.

You were blushing furiously as Yunho was looking down at his drink, his cheeks flushed as well. The two of you were aware of how dramatic your altercation with the girls in your class. It was as if it was something straight out of a teen show.

"Honestly, we should direct a movie for it!" Wooyoung cheered as San agreed.

"It will be a huge hit amongst romance fans," San agreed before taking a drink of his water. "Maybe we can have IU play as Y/N."

"Alright they get it," Seonghwa said, making the two boys quiet down and change the topic. Seonghwa looked over at you as you began scooping a piece of cake onto your fork. "We're happy you were able to join us, Yunho has talked about you a lot."

Your head shot up towards Yunho who was looking at Seonghwa with wide eyes. You could tell he was silently cursing at the older member in his head. "Well, I'm glad I was able to join," you say, smiling back at Yunho.

After parting ways with Yunho's friends, Yunho insisted on walking you home. The two of you were walking in silence, neither of you able to think of something to talk about.

"So," you blurt out, making him look down at you. "Why did you call me pathetic?" You swallowed hard, this wasn't what you wanted to talk about. But you weren't going to be okay without talking about it.

Yunho stayed silent for a moment, trying to find the words. "For years, I had this image of me as this guy who had multiple girls on his arm and couldn't keep a stable relationship. But that's not true, I've never been the type to play with girls. I've never done random hookups and honestly girls don't confess to me. Everyone just made up this person in their head and I kind of went along with it."

You looked up at him as he brushed his fingers through his hair. He let out a sigh and continued. "But when I first met you, you didn't pay attention to me. You didn't care about the rumors circling around me. And then when I saw the letter with my name on it, I..I don't know. Maybe I got worried you started seeing me like everyone else did. My ego got ahead of me and I spoke without even thinking about it. I've never thought of you as anything, pathetic. And I am really sorry for saying those things to you."

You give him a small smile and grab his hand with yours. "This is the reason why I fell for you. I knew you weren't the guy everyone expected you to be, you're much more than that."

Yeosang:

It felt like you had been walking for hours until you had finally reached your place. Your heart was aching with how much it had gone through in just one day. "You're so goddamn annoying." "I didn't know how to let you down gently." You felt like he saw you as a joke, like someone in his shoes couldn't possibly be with you. You've never felt so down on yourself until today.

You wiped the tears off your face and made your way into the bathroom. Reaching down, you started the water in the tub and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your mascara was visibly on your cheeks, your face red from rushing home.

Slipping your fingers under the hem of your shirt about to take it off when there was a buzz at the front door. You sighed and turned off the bath water before making your way out of the bathroom. Walking through the living room and up to the door, you placed your hand on the knob before pushing it open. Yeosang stood before you, out of breath and looking very distraught.

"What, Yeosang?" You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. For the first time, you didn't care how you looked in front of him. You didn't bother attempting to fix the makeup on your cheeks or brushing your hair back with your fingers.

"I care about you," he starts, "I care about you a lot. And I know right now, in this moment it's not the romantic feeling you feel. But I am attracted to you, Y/N. But I'm not ready for any kind of relationship and I don't want to give you any kind of false hope. I didn't mean to call you annoying, you could never annoy me. I should have been more mature and told you how I originally feeling instead of insulting you and giving you false hope."

"You hurt me, Yeosang," you choked out, feeling the tears build up once more. "I apologize for overwhelming affection I showed. I should've thought before doing so. But you made me feel so awful, and I understand that you don't want a relationship but there's literally any other way we could've handled this."

He nodded in agreement, "I agree. And I'm really sorry for how I treated you. If one day, we can fix this, I really hope I can make it up to you."

"Me too. Goodnight, Yeosang." With that you closed the door and pressed your back to the wall with a sigh

❀ 6 months later ❀

You anxiously paced back and forth in your living room. Twiddling with your thumbs as you waited for buzzer. When the sound finally happened, you took a deep breath and opened the door. Yeosang appeared in front of you with a smile on his face, holding a flower in his hand for you.

"You look amazing," he tells you, handing you the flower and planting a kiss on your cheek. "So, are you ready for our date?"

You smiled back at him, "absolutely."

San:

Your chest was rising fast as your laid down the mat. You had just finished another work out with San, but now you were beginning to regret your life choices. When San told you he'd help you, you didn't realize he was going to make your whole body feel like jelo.

San rushed up to you with a smile on his face, "How was it? Did you feel the burn? Did you enjoy the workout? I was thinking next time, we can add more reps, maybe a little more cardio."

Oh how you wanted to throw this man out a window. You squinted your eyes at him, "Go away."

He laughed and sat down beside you, "You're so cute, you know that?"

Wincing at the pain, you pushed yourself up and sat beside him. "There's nothing cute about making your partner suffer, San. I'm never coming with you again. And if I do, I'm definitely not training with you."

San leaned over and gave you a kiss on the head, completely ignoring how damp your hair was. "How about we get out of here and grab some snacks for a movie night?"

You quickly looked up at him with hopeful eyes, "ice cream too?"

He laughed and nodded, "ice cream too."

Excitedly, you got up and held your hand out for him. "Come on, I need to shower after this."

"Yeah, you really do smell pretty bad," he joked as you helped him up.

You eyes widened as you let go of his hand, making him fall back onto the floor with a thud. "Says the one who smells like a swamp monster."

"Hey!" He called after you as you left him alone and went towards the locker rooms.

Mingi:

You smirked at yourself in the mirror as you stared at yourself in the mirror. The tight red dress was going to get you in trouble and you were hoping it would. The more you thought of Mingi getting jealous the more you found yourself being attracted to him. Tonight there was a party that was being thrown for another idols birthday.

You were showing up later than the Ateez members, but you decided to go ahead without them and with a group of girls instead. When you arrived to the party, you hadn't realized how packed the party was going to be. Mingi was friends with many, but you never thought that you'd be in a room with this many people before. You made your way over to a table where a couple of Stray Kids members were sitting.

"Changbin!" You said cheerfully, he stood up and greeted you with a hug while Felix gave you a polite nod. You took a seat beside Changbin and looked around the room. "Have you guys been here long?"

Changbin shook his head. "We just got here maybe ten minutes before you. You didn't come with Mingi?"

"No, they said they were going to be a little later than me so I came with others."

The three of you stayed sitting down, talking and making jokes when you felt someone tap your shoulder. Looking up, you find Mingi his eyes piercing down into yours. Oh, he was not happy.

"Sorry guys, but I've got to take this one home, she's got a long day tomorrow," Mingi tells the other two, not even looking at them.

Mingi grabbed a hold of your hand and helped you to your feet before making his way towards the door. You could overhear Felix say, 'Long day tomorrow or long night tonight?'. Mingi guided your way out the door before the two of you were on the sidewalk. He rose his hand, waving towards a taxi driver that was headed in your direction.

When the taxi stopped, Mingi opened the door for you and whispered in your ear. "You're aware what you did, yes?"

Your body shivered at his words as you nodded, feeling a bit excited. "I know."

"Good, get in."

You slide into the car and Mingi follows after you. He tells the driver your apartment complex as he places his hand on your knee. The thought you having an endless night made your cheeks flush. You couldn't wait to get home.

Wooyoung:

"What are friends for?"

For some reason, for the first time, you didn't like the sound of those words coming from him. As you continued allow Wooyoung to sweet talk the sponsors, you found yourself stealing glances at him every chance you could.

You were staring at him for a moment when you felt a hand touch your arm. Looking up, a woman old enough to be your grandmother was giving you a warm smile.

"You must really love him," she says, cutting you off guard.

"O-Oh, we aren't dating. We're just friends, we're really close and I didn't want to be here alone," you explain, giving her a soft smile.

She shakes her head, not believing a word you say. "You wouldn't look at someone that way, unless you were in love. And whether you realize it now or not, you are in love with him. I looked at someone like that before."

"Your partner?"

Her smile fades a little before she brings it back. "No, the person I was in love with never found out. They were the right person, but the wrong time. If you're in love with this man, you should tell him. Before it's too late."

"Y/N." The sound of Wooyoung's voice made you turn around to find him looking at you. "Are you ready to go? I think this party is starting to become a bummer." You turn back to look at the woman, but you don't find her anywhere in sight. "Y/N? What are you looking for?"

Looking back up at Wooyoung, you shake your head. "N-Nothing. I'm ready to go."

Before waiting for a response, you make your way towards the exit. Wooyoung followed behind quickly, calling your name as you followed you to the lobby and outside the building.

"Y/N!" He yells once more, making you stop but you didn't turn around. "What happened in there? What's wrong?"

Your head was flooded with so many thoughts. Your heart racing of the thought that you could possibly be an item with Wooyoung. Was that something you wanted? You were so comfortable around him, the thought of being intimate with him gave you butterflies in your stomach. Turning around, you look at the very confused Wooyoung.

"Y/N?"

"I can't be friends with you, Wooyoung." You didn't even think before you blurted it out. Your hands were shaking with how anxious you were.

Wooyoung looked at your shocked and then became sad, "Is it because of what I said earlier? I promise you, you are an amazing person. You're gorgeous, fantastic and-"

You cut him off, "I think I'm in love with you!"

You silently cursed at yourself as the two of you went silent. You couldn't bare to look at him, you didn't want to know what look was on his face. The words came out without you thinking about it. Maybe you didn't have to think about it. You were definitely in love with Wooyoung.

"Want me to help you figure it out?" He asks, his voice suddenly much closer now. He was standing right in front you, without you even noticing that he moved.

"W-What-" was all you managed to get out before Wooyoung lifted your head up with his fingers. Without hesitation, he pressed his lips onto yours. Your stomach felt like it was doing flips as you places your hands on his hips.

Once you pulled away, he looked down at you and licked his lips. "I've been in love with you this whole time."

"You have?" You say, sounding more like whisper.

He nods, "Did that help you figure it out?"

"I-I'm not sure, can we do it again? Maybe a little longer, I didn't get a good read." Wooyoung let out of laugh before he nods and presses his lips onto yours once more.

Jongho:

You gripped onto the plastic bags that contained 8 lunch boxes. Today was the first day you were going back to the practice room since you talked to Jongho a couple days ago. You felt more nervous than you ever had. The thought of seeing Jongho again, knowing he had feelings for you, made your stomach do flips.

Knocking on the door, you pushed it opened. "I brought food!" Looking up, you noticed how dark the practice room was. "Hello? I could've sworn Seonghwa told me they were here today."

You flipped on the lights and noticed a table in the center of the room with a bouquet of flowers sitting in the middle. Setting the bags on the floor, you walked up to the table and read the note that was there.

"Will you do the honor of being my girlfriend? P.S turn around."

Turning around, you find Jongho standing by the door. His cheeks were already flush as he made his way over to you.

"You did all of this?" you asked, meeting him halfway.

Shyly, he nodded. "I didn't want a big grand gesture but you deserved something a little more than that." You smiled at him, which made him return it. "So what do you think?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend!" You say, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug.

A loud applause made you pull away and find the rest of the members cheering. Your brother looked at you and gave you the thumbs up, making you blush.

"Well now that that's settled, can we eat now?" San whined, already looking through the bags to find his box.

You and Jongho laughed and walked over, helping everyone sort out their boxes. The 9 of you sat in a circle, you sitting in the middle of Jongho & Seonghwa.

"So where are you going for your first date?" Wooyoung asked, making everyone look over at Jongho.

Jongho shook his head, "I'm not telling any of you." Seonghwa cleared his throat and looked over at him. "Oh right, we're going to Lotte World." The group laughs as Seonghwa nods, approving the choice.

"I can't wait," you say to Jongho, giving him an excited smile before he smiles back at you.

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vulpixisananimal · 1 month ago

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<Null> {Mal Du Pays} [Loop] (Siffrin)

[It's still raining.]

[You've stopped at the fork in the path, those two strangers just a few feet ahead of you. One tall, with dark skin, lightless hair and a stoic face. They were standing under the tree reading something. The other was shorter, with dark hair. He was sitting down, eyes closed with a smile on his face. Both had bonded earings to eachother.]

[Why were you filled with dread?]

"Loop?" [Mirabelle leans close to you.] "Do you think. . ?"

"Maybe." [You tug at the rim of your cloak.] "You start the talking."

"O-okay!" [Mirabelle took a deep breath, and stepped forward. You followed behind her.] "Uhm, excuse me?"

[The taller one looked up from the book. A slight, genuine smile on her face. They waved.] "Ah, hello! May I help you?"

[Mirabelle cleared her throat, then continued.] "W-well, there's been something going on at the homestead a little ways back, and, we wanted to check in! Make sure everything's okay, uhm. ."

[The tall one nodded.] "I understand. We're both just fine. Thank you."

"O-oh, well-"

[Okay, you needed to step in.] "We wanted to ask you a few questions if that's alright."

[They nod again.] "Of course, My name is Merlan, and this is Perci, forgive him, he gets lost in thought."

"That's okay! U-uhm, I'm Mirabelle, it's good to meet you."

"Siffrin, it's a pleasure~"

[Merlan raised an eyebrow.] "Ah, Saviors? Oh forgive me." [They leaned down to their partner and shook him.]

[Perci yawned, and stretched, and opened his eyes to look at you. Directly at you with a little, sly smile.] "Company? I just closed my eyes for a moment!"

"N-no it's okay! No need to worry about it!" [Mirabelle reassured.]

"Ah thank you, Lady Mirabelle. So, what can I do for you." [He seemed, charming.]

[You smell something, it was hard to tell because of the rain.]

[Mirabelle started talking.] "Okay, well, uhm, there's been a very, dangerous sadness in the area! So, so I wanted, to, to-"

[You cut her off.] "-To make sure that it wasn't going after fellow travelers. You two haven't seen anything like that, have you?"

"I'm not sure, have we?" [Perci turned to his bonded.]

"I've seen glimpses of it." [They were tapping their foot.] "A dangerous thing, to see a bonded sadness even after the Kings defeat is, curious."

[Bonded sadness? Was that like that pair of strong sadness on the second floor of the house? You keep smiling.] "And there's not been anything else strange?"

[Merlon shook his head.] "Nothing, nothing. Apart from randomly meeting the Saviors of Vaugarde! How'd you beat him, by the way?"

[Mirabelle held her hands close.] "I, reflected his freezing spell back at him, and-"

"Oh no no no! I know that! I mean more, how you got to him. That house full of sadness and traps. One wrong move and it's all over, so, well, how?"

". . . Uhm, luck?" [She responds. Yes, luck. Luck and not the time loops you were stuck in for hundreds or thousands of loops.]

[Perci's eyes are digging deeper into you. Why was he so intense?] "Must have been some wild luck. If the King was strong enough to freeze time. . ."

"An impossibility." [Merlon finishes. They were back to reading, writing, in a book.] "Time cannot be crafted without dying. Unless you had outside assistance."

[Like a wish.]

"It, it wasn't easy, at all. . ." [Mirabelle looked away.]

[Three floors of complex mazes and keys and traps that you had long, long, long ago memorized. It was a hell.]

[HOW long have you- ugh, nevermind! You shrug, still smiling.] "Well, if you're sure you two haven't seen anything. . ."

"Positive!" [Perci is still smiling.] "Honestly we should be going, if a sadness is nearby."

"O-okay, well, we'll leave you too it, then!" [She glances at you, you nod.]

"It's wonderful to meet you both, take care Merlon, Perci~" <You turn to walk back, and wave. You were excited to get out of here, you didn't like this.>

"Goodbye Saiviors." [Says Merlon.]

"Hope we see you again, Mirabelle, Loop!" [Says Perci.]

[You turn around, still smiling, looking right at the two of them.] ". . . Sorry?"

"I said. . . Goodbye, hope we see you again?" <Perci respond. Merlon quietly kicks him in the shin. They exchange a look.> ". . . . Mirabelle, and. . ."

"Siffrin." [Merlon interupts.]

"Siffrin! Ah yes right, hope to see you again-"

"No." <You smile wider, that kind of smile.> "Drop the act."

". . . Act?" [Perci says. Nice acting.]

"You said Loop. That's not my name. In fact, no-one knows that name." <You step forward.> "Why are you taking a rest here?"

"Well, because I was tired-"

"Because mind craft has a range limit." <You interrupt.> "Don't try fooling me, Perci, when it comes to acting I am of the best."

". . . Bravo." <He claps.> "Truly, bravo."

<At this point, Mirabelle is standing by you. Hand on her sword.> "You two were behind this?"

<He bowed> "Forgive the misdirection, watching from the sidelines is much better for gaining information."

"What does that blinding mean!" <You were getting angry. You eye up your enemy, two swords, mind craft, how strong? Quick? What was his craft type?>

"People tend to lie, saivor. Not so much when you step back and let them open themselves up. Oh, scissors craft, by the way."

<?!?!?!?!??!?!?!?!>

[?????????????????????]

"You're writing all this down, my love?" [Perci turns to his bonded.]

"Every moment." [They reply.]

"W-what?!?" [Mirabelle was getting frustrated.] "You, you're controlling our friends for information?!?"

"Of course! I'm not doing any harm, they wont notice anything different, I get to poke around their heads, and if anything bad happens I snap my fingers and it's all forgotten."

<You want to kill him.> "Did you do this to Ramos?"

"Oh Ramos? Oh they were such a mess, but they were raised by someone from a forgotten culture! I had to interview and poke around in that mind. And just left them with, a parting gift!" <He talked so casually, waving a hand.>

"They turned into a sadness!!!" <Mirabelle yelled.>

<Both were taken aback by that, and looked at each other.> ". . . Is that what happened? I felt some strange and strong emotions before the charm was broken, did they really. . ?"

"You didn't know?!?"

"No, but, that is fascinating!" <He turned to Merlon.> "Do you think we could replicate that? Someone turning into a sadness like that. . ."

"Oh I'm sure we can figure it out." <Merlon replies casually.>

"That's, that's horrible!!!" <Mirabelle exclaimed.>

"It's increddible!" <Perci turned back to you, a sparkle in his eye.> "A sadness created through strong emotions enhanced through mind craft? Aren't you just a little bit curious about it?"

"No!!!!"

"No? But isn't that what Change is all about?"

<You step interject.> "Stop talking. What do you want."

"Information!" <Perci said with a flourish.> "Lore! History! The truths hidden within the words and minds of thousands of people! Everything from the smallest story to the grandest legends! Even legends that don't want to be remembered~"

[Dont want. . Like, our home?]

<You ignore Loop.> "And so to get to it you violate a persons privacy? Their will?"

"Oh it's not like they'll notice, or remember, it's fine!" <He laughs, waving away the question.> "Besides, wouldn't you do something like that? For your home?"

". . . . . . . ." <You're reading our mind. Aren't you>

"I am! What a quick learner."

"H-huh?!?" <Mirabelle looked confused.>

[Oh if you're reading our blinding thought I'll tell you to jump off a cliff PERSONALLY!!! You BLINDING IDIOT!!!!]

"Ahaa, very fascinating. Two voices? I thought I was going mad."

<Yes, two voices. You should be able to tell more, since you are using mind craft.>

"Oh no no no! From here I can only tell the most surface of thoughts. But just shake my hand, and-"

[HA! HAHAHAHHAHAHA!!!!]

<You see Perci wince, then laugh, shaking his head.> "Oh tricky! I like you, Null and Loop, correct? In the body of Siffrin the nobody. Now, was that a craft? Or-"

"An identity disorder, love." <Merlon adds.> "Many types, all acting very differently, caused by trauma in childhood. Our hero has a dramatic backstory."

[Stop talking like we're FRIENDS!!!]

<You glance over at Mirabelle, she's looking confused between you and Perci.> "He's reading our minds."

"He's- no!! That's private!!" <Mirabelle exlaimed.>

"Oh! No this is fascinating!" <Perci looked like a teacher excited to explain todays lesson. You wanted to rip him apart.> "See, Lady Mirabelle, your mind is so cluttered thinking about every single possibility at once it's very hard to single out many thoughts! So full of anxiety and fear."

"But your friend, friends, here are so much different! They are having a conversation in their mind! Yes many people have an internal monolog but this is an internal debate! It's a breath of fresh air, honestly!"

<. . . . . . .>

[Disgusting, get OUT!!] "Why do you need this!! You've caused enough harm already!!!"

"Because!" <Perci waves his arms dramaticly in the rain.> "Because of that island culture! The island north of Vaugarde, it's history, it's people! They're yearning for home and I can see it. And I will deliver it to them, I will dig, and dig, and dig untill every bone, every word, every little tale is exposed for the world to see!"

[. . . . . . That. . .]

<Doesn't. . . . Seem evil. . .>

[No, it doesn't. But. . .] "But you're, you're just going to hurt people and poke in their heads for that?!? I never asked you to help with our home! How do you know others will!!"

"I asked." <Merlon says, flatly.>

<. . . .>

"I want to see the beach again. The forrest, the maze of water and winds. The darting stars whispering through the night sky, the clouds hugging the stone reaching for the lightless night. . ." <For the first time, you see some emotion on Merlons face.>

[. . . You look away.] "And you're fine with, hurting people to remember that?"

"Yes." [They reply, too quickly.]

[. . . . .]

"Haven't you see their faces, Loop?" <Perci steps forward.> "Other islanders begging for an explination for why they're like this? For their memories, names, faces? What about that man at the Inn? Polaris? What would he do to remember."

[. . . . . . . . You're done talking.]

<Agreed, you take another step, hand on your dagger..> "If you want to help islanders, stop using mind craft."

"Well, sorry, but no. It's too useful a tool." <Perci put a hand on his sword. He knows this talk is over.> "But. . . A wager? A one-on-one fight, if you win, I undo the mind craft here. I win, you let me poke around that brain of yours as much as I like."

"What?!?" <Mirabelle exlaims.> "That's rediculous! You can't just-"

"-Fine." <You interupt, drawing your dagger.>

"Loop?!?"

"Lady Mirabelle, let them fight." <Merlon comments.> "My bonded will not do any undue harm, if your rogue does the same."

"It's just a friendly match, Mirabelle dear." <Perci draws twin swords, stepping forward.>

[Yes, friendly. Very friendly. Extremely, friendly. . . Ha. Hahaha. . .]

<You're pathetic, Perci. You're a conniving snake, a crab, a bastard and betrayal to the concept of history and stories. I am going to kill you.>

<You see the corner of Perci's mouth twitch.> ". . Shall we?"

[Do we have a plan, dearest Null?]

<Yes. You rush in.>

"Bleeding- Ah, my mistake for underestimating you." <Perci rolls his shoulder and gets ready to attack again.>

[Not this AGAIN.]

[. . . . . . . That's-]

[You're going to kill us.]

[?!?!?!??!?!?!]

<He, swung with both at the same time.>

[He's CHANGING THINGS]

<Impossible, it's, it's a fluke. Rushing at you again, you, you- >

[You froze up, and got stabbed. STARS Null what are you-]

"S-siffrin!!" [You hear Mirabelle exclaim. Your breathing is heavy, you were already exhausted from looping and THIS ISN'T HELPING!!!]

"Increddible, absolutley increddible." [Perci is staring at wonder.] "It's like your thought switch in an instant. Going from one plan to another faster than any mind should be able to!"

"Future vision? Perhaps?" [Merlon adds. You look over to Mirabelle, you share a look.] "No, not quite. . ."

"Oh!" [Perci snaps his fingers.] "Is that what that looping you keep thinking about is? Time looping back when you loose?"

<. . . . .>

[Percis face lights up.] "It IS!!! Oh, oh my, Merlon we have a lot of work to do."

<Again. Jump, stab down- >

[IT'S NOT WORKING]

<Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow, Creeps in this petty pace from day to day.>

[What are you DOING?!?]

"Reciting plays to cover your thoughts?" <Perci says. Strike block lunge.> "It might work~"

"Your rogue is a very talented fighter, Mirabelle." <Merlon's voice.>

". . . ." <Mirabelle> "He, he is."

<Dodge, duck, jump, cornered. Block He looks you in the eye.>

< -And then is heard no more. It is a tale>

<Block, parry. Block, dodge.>

"No crafts, Null?" <Perci lunges.> "Focused too much on your footwork, perhaps."

[I can. Just-]

<No. You just. Needed. A dagger.>

<He's taunting.> "I can tell by your thoughts, you've already tried beating me quite a bit."

"Stop it!!" <Mirabelle.> "Both of you!! They, S-sif you'll, you'll-"

<Jump, duck, parry, counter.>

<He's gloating.> "I'd call it cheating, but, it looks like you're only hurting yourself."

#IT'S TIME #THE SCOLAR. SCRIBE. SAGE #AND THE SORCERER #music links in text!#isat #in stars and time #art #isat art #isat fanart #isat spoilers #siffrin system au #isat au #sifstem #isat siffrin #isat perci #isat merlon #isat oc #isat fanfic

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lani-heart · 10 months ago

Text

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> jung wooyoung x reader warning(s) -> angst, mentions of neglect, mentions of depression words -> 1.9K

abstract -> he just wants to enjoy everything she gives him... while he still can.

wooyoung's perspective

“Wooyoung, stop acting like this!! She’s pregnant… don’t you understand!” he yelled at me. Maybe he’s right… It's not good for her health.

“Yah! You’ve got to do something about this hybrid of yours!” the baby shower guest said… “I know… it's just hard you know? He was my mom’s hybrid” she said… I know I was probably hurting her again.

“Please!” I begged and he scoffed. “We’re here for the baby… not you” he said as he grabbed y/n’s book from my hands and put it back. I missed her.

“Hasn’t he been acting weird?” “One minute he’s jumping off the walls then he’s in a corner?”

“Wooyoung?” I heard as I saw the familiar figure. His name was Kun…. I think? I remember seeing him around y/n.

“Oh? You know him?” my owner said and he nodded. “He was the neighbor of an old friend” he confessed and they scoffed. I don’t think they really liked her…

“Why are you admitting him here?” the doctor asked and they sighed. “He’s been having these mood swings and it's bad for my baby,” she said and I sighed… I did another thing wrong? “And for your health, honey,” he said. Was I hurting them again?

“I don’t think mood swings are bad for children. In fact, maybe Wooyoung just needs some atten–""Are you telling us what's good for our child?!” they yelled. “No, of course not,” Kun said clearly dejected.

“Well, he isn’t our responsibility anymore,” they said and I felt confused. “This is his information and the application,” they said… they were giving me up?

“Of course, we’ll do that right now”

How long have I been here? It seems like too long…

I smelt a familiar scent… it was coming from a panther hybrid. He was in their red code protocol… was he dangerous? His application had a clear red highlight… San was his name.

“You smell familiar” I must've talked out loud since he looked at me but didn’t answer… “Who’s your owner?” I asked… maybe it was them I knew?

“I don’t have an owner, '' he said but it didn’t make sense… “You smell like someone though… it's faint but you don’t have the medicinal scent from here or an adoption center” I said but he scoffed clearly annoyed at the thought

“Hmmm… y/nnie” I muttered… it's the only name I could think of “No way she’s your owner… why would you be here then?” I thought out loud… I missed her.

“She adopted me two days ago,” he said and I was shocked… When was the last time I felt this much energy? “SHE’S YOUR OWNER?!” I asked and he growled… “Not anymore hopefully,” he said… I was confused. Why wasn’t he happy?

“How can you not be grateful?” I said and he glared while saying... “I’m not a pet,”

“I would love it if she came to rescue me… I haven’t seen her in years” I said and he didn’t say anything else but an employee came saying she was here for him

“y/n is here?!” I asked and the employee seemed shocked. “Hmm? You know his owner Wooyoung?” the young employee asked and I nodded. “She used to be my neighbor! Can I see her?” I asked hopefully that he’d say yes but… he didn't.

“How’d you get so lucky?” I said the stupid panther and he scoffed. “This isn’t luck, it's a curse,” I said and he scoffed.

They let me see her! She wanted to see me… but not even she wanted me.

Rejected again… I'd never find an owner.

I owe it a lot to the others though… here I was. With the woman I've liked since her highschool days… happy with her and my new best friend! Everything was in the past, she would never abandon me. Right?

I mean the panther and her are now mated…

I was an outcast yet again. “Why are you so quiet?” San asked and I smiled. “Tired,” I said, hoping he’d believe it. I’m only here because of him, she wouldn’t have adopted me otherwise. I was just his plus two.

“You’re acting like you did back four months ago,” he said. Four months have passed since I lived in those kennels. I don’t miss it… not even a little bit.

“I’m just tired,” I muttered while laying down on my bed. He didn’t say anything… Instead he left the room.

I wanna enjoy it all before I lose it all.

I guess losing it came faster than I thought. I was sitting in the same seat that they abandoned me in. Looking at Kun and the doctor. “You said your visit was because of Wooyoung’s mood right?” he asked. My mood?

“Yeah… recently Wooyoung has been very down, even San agrees' ' she said while looking at me worriedly. “Wooyoung, do you wanna say anything about how you've been adjusting?” Kun asked and I shook my head. “I love it!” I said with a big grin. It must’ve not been convincing though.

“What would you like to do?” the doctor asked y/n and she sighed. Was she gonna abandon me now? “I don't know, '' she confessed.

“We can sign him up for therapy sessions, behavior training, or it might be the home that's the problem,” he said. “If it's the home, then Wooyoung you’d have to tell us and you’ll be taken from her care–” “NO!” I cut off… “I… I'm sorry I didn’t mean to yell” I muttered and I felt her hand rub my arm up and down.

“Wooyoung, so you like your new home?” he asks me and I nod. I loved it… I really did.

“I’m sorry, Wooyoung but y/n I think it's best if you leave him here at least for the night. We’ll do a check-up, do a mental analysis, and see what’s the problem” the doctor said and I hugged her arm tightly.

“No, please don’t leave me here” I cried and he she looked at me worried. “I don’t think it's a good choice Doyoung–” “Trust us" he asked and she sighed.

She looked at me with a sad expression. “Wooyoung,” she said and I tightened my grip. “Just for today. I’ll pick you up in the morning” she said with her soft smile and I could cry as she petted my head. Why was she leaving me so soon?

“If anything goes wrong call me” she told them and they nodded as she waved at me with a soft smile.

Please comeback...

-> y/n perspective

I couldn’t sleep tonight. San stayed with me all night waiting for me to fall asleep but he did first. I was worried about Wooyoung and why he was acting differently.

He seemed to have faked his smiles… acted more down and was overall more tired.

I could only hope he was okay and that he was healthy.

The morning couldn’t have come sooner. I silently got ready so I didn’t wake up the panther as he probably didn’t get enough sleep trying to stay awake with me.

I got there early and saw Haechan who tried telling me everything was gonna be fine.

“Kun is here, y/nnie!” Haechan said as he led me to his office where I didn’t see the lovable fox. “Is he okay?” I asked and he smiled. “You look like you didn’t get any sleep?” he asked and I glared. He chuckled as he put his hands in the air playfully.

“He’s completely healthy… and he’s really happy with you, maybe a little too happy, '' he said, now confusing me. “Wooyoung was abandoned and his owner died. He actually originally asked for you to adopt him and you know that… but with years of neglect and being told his behavior is too much it has affected his mental health. He has an attachment disorder linked with his fear of abandonment.” he explained and I nodded. Was he worried I'd do that to him?

“He tells me San chose you as his mate… and Wooyoung confessed to having this obsession with you. He has since you were in school…” he said and I was shocked. San kept teasing me about it but I didn’t think it was true.

“So what's the problem?” I am still confused. Kun only sighed… “He thinks you’ll abandon him because San chose you as a mate. That you’ll now neglect him and eventually leave him like everyone else” he explains and I felt sad that he’d think that of me.

“It's more of his insecurity and his past experiences affecting his mood. You’d just need to give him as much attention as you can and reassure him” he explained and I nodded.

“Jaemin, will take you to him,” he said and I nodded as I saw Jaemin here shortly waving at me happily. “y/n!!” he said and I smiled. “I’m happy that Wooyoung has you. He used to be so down and always caused Doyoung-hyung to seek medical attention due to not eating” he explained.

All I could remember was happy Wooyoung who’d see me after my classes. He’d be the one scolding me to eat and make sure I took some rest after studying to not overwork myself.

“Wooyoung, you have a visitor~” Jaemin said as I saw Wooyoung look at me with sad and relieved eyes. “y/n…” he muttered in disbelief.

I smiled softly.

“Let’s go home?” I asked and he nodded. He took my hand as I put his collar back on and we said goodbye to the staff. I held his hand tightly as he stood by closely to me.

When we got outside I decided to stop. “Wooyoung?” I asked and he looked at me confused.

“Remember in high school that I told you I would always go get street food for dinner?” I asked and he chuckled. “Yeah! But that's not good for you, especially with how much you used to study. You needed a proper meal!” He scolded me and I smiled. “Wanna try it?” I asked and he smiled softly.

“It can’t be better than my food” he challenged and I smiled. “Nothing is better than your cooking… I just think it's nice to have from time to time?” I asked and he nodded.

“Ok!” he said, now happily looping our arms together. As we walked his tail wagged slightly. “Hey, Wooyoung?” I asked and he looked at me again. “I could never abandon you. I promise that you’re stuck with me forever” I said and his smile dropped softly as his eyes turned teary-eyed. “You don’t mean that. Don’t make promises you can’t keep” he muttered and I smiled.

“I do mean it! You’re stuck with me!! I promise I owe you so much Wooyoung. More than you’d imagine… in high school, you were keeping me going so thank you” I said and he smiled. “I owe you a lot also…” he said and I smiled.

“San loves you too. You’ve seen how he is… the only reason he’s given me a chance was for you. So I owe you everything… because of you I'm no longer alone” I confessed and he hugged me. “And because of you and San, I'm not either,” he muttered.

“You’re stuck with me” he said and I smiled. “I wouldn’t have it any other way!” I said happily as we finally made it to the street food place.

“So what should we have first?” he asked me and I shrugged.

“We have forever to try new things. There's no rush!”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

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the-kr8tor · 5 months ago

Text

Where the River Flows

Pairing: Cowboy! Hobie Brown x Fem! Reader

Word count: 7.4k

Tags: Use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW food mentions, TW Blood and violence, TW death, CW injury, CW guns, CW alcohol. Old west AU, cowboy AU

Our Place in the Middle of Nowhere Masterlist

Navigation

CHAPTER 4 >>> CHAPTER 5

You haven't slept this well in years, the last time you had was back when you've last slept next to him on the same lumpy mattress of his flat that you've once called home. Your eyes blink awake, cheek pressed against a pillow, it's soft, so soft that for a second you thought it was Hobie's arm. You stare at the ceiling, a carved magnolia tree stares back. Its branches are full of blossoms, perfectly carved just like the illustrations in your books. It's so vivid that you could practically see its pinkish hue. It's weird, you think, the carving, when the rest of the room is sparsely decorated; filled with drab oak, and cheap lamps. The room smells old, lived in by hundreds of travelers before you.

A creak echoes out at the far end of the bed, prompting you to look upon Hobie's bareback. Healed bullet wounds litter all over his flesh that you once held on. Raised scars dotted along his lower back like stars, stars that were once drenched in ruby. You wonder if it still hurts, the stars, like how the hole he left in your heart five years ago. You hope it doesn't hurt as much for him, you'll never wish agony upon him; even if a part of you thinks he deserves it.

Maybe you should tell him, tell him what agony has befallen you since he left. The pile of letters sewn into your skirt remains to be read by his viridescent eyes; its wax seal remains closed, the words of longing and hate are still scribbled upon the yellowed paper.

Your eyes dart along the expanse of his skin, frown getting deeper and deeper with every new scar you find. Hobie puts on his shirt, buttoning each one, the cloth hiding his own misfortune from your weary eyes.

“You talk in your sleep.” He finally breaks his silence. Looking over his shoulder, he regrets it immediately. The simple sight of your bed head and puffy eyes brings back memories of when you'd wake up next to him.

“I know,” I've been told. You grunt as you lift yourself off the pillow, elbow propping you whilst you watch him put on his cowboy boots and clinking spurs.

He blinks, hand pausing along the buckles. “It's new, you've never done that before.”

“Just like you said, a lot of things can change in five years.” Sitting up, you place your chin atop your knees, legs tucked under the covers, arms holding your legs in place. “What was I saying? In my sleep, I mean.”

“You were mumbling…” my name, he sighs at the thought of telling you the truth. “Someone's name I think, and egg soup for some reason.”

“I'm hungry.” You ignore whose name you might've been saying in your sleep. And you think it's not his.

“We need new clothes first, people must've gotten our descriptions by now. So we need to change.” Hobie puts on his leather vest, the metals of it clinking against one another. Then the hat comes after, he stands up, walking towards his gun belt.

“Okay, breakfast after?” You fight a yawn, palms rubbing harshly on your eyelids.

“Yes, breakfast after.” He secures his belt on his hip, silver guns shining in the early morning sun. “I don't think they have egg soup though.”

You crack a small smile. “It doesn't matter, anything will do.”

“The saloon has pumpkin soup I think, does that sound good?” Hobie has no idea why he's prolonging the conversation about soup out of all the things he could discuss with you.

You nod, staring at him through fond eyes. “Mm-hmm, sounds good.”

“Good, we need something warm to eat.” He realizes that he's been standing awkwardly at the doorway. Clearing his throat, you fight a smile. “Get dressed.” With the door shutting close behind him, he slaps his cheeks to wake himself. He needs coffee, or something stronger for that matter.

Meanwhile, you watch the space he just left with hope in your heart.

—

The dress shop smells nicer than the inn, it's elegant, looking like it doesn't belong in the middle of the dingy town. Every pile of clothing is neatly folded over the other, different outfits are displayed over the windows and display cases. Both leather and cotton are the most prominent ones, but there are a few chiffon dresses, lace and silks placed alongside the rougher fabrics. They're all wonderfully made, each having their own brand of beauty in every stitch.

You watch yourself in the floor length mirror. Dark trousers instead of a skirt hangs around your waist. A nice crisp white dress shirt on your torso fits perfectly on you thanks to the friendly tailor.

“You need a vest, or you'll get cold during your travels.” She taps your shoulder, genuinely smiling at you through the mirror. “Are you sure you don't want to wear a corset and skirt? You'd look just as marvellous.” Her eyes shine just like the dainty rings around her fingers.

“I'm sure, skirts and corsets are an inconvenience.”

“Well, you've given me a proper challenge then. But is it a challenge if everything looks good on you?” Her long dark hair sways behind her as she peruses her own shop, dozens of embroidered cloth folded neatly on tables.

“You're good,” you watch her sashay along her shop, colourful vests piled on her arm. “Just as good as the tailors back at home.”

Yuri, you learned her name just a few minutes ago, returns to you with her arm full of vests. “‘Just as good?’ oh sweetheart, I'm better.” She grins mischievously at you, red lips curled into a smug smile. Yuri would be friends with Hobie, you think, maybe in another life. “Arms up, my darling.” She holds up numerous different vests upon your body until she settles for a royal blue leather vest that has hydrangeas embroidered on it. “This is it!” Gasping excitedly, you let her help put the vest on. “Fucking beautiful! If I was your husband I'd be jumping your bones.” Grasping your shoulders, she places her chin atop it, smiling at you.

Your heart thumps loudly at the word ‘husband.’ “Thank you, Yuri.” You fiddle with the empty gun belt around your hips.

“Now for a coat or a jacket befitting a glorious woman like yourself.” She winks, twisting around in search of another dozen or so outerwear in her stock.

“Oh I think this is enough.” You don't want to use up all of Hobie's money, especially when he's still in the dressing room, none the wiser.

Yuri turns towards you abruptly, hand on her chest, feigning hurt. “Enough? Do you like prancing around town in your birthday suit?”

“No—”

“Then you shall have a jacket. The best one I've got.”

You bite your lip, a nervous tick of yours that Hobie once pointed out after kissing it off you. “I just don't want to spend too much.”

“You mean you don't want him to spend too much?” Yuri saunters over to you, boots clacking on the worn out floorboards. “What are husbands good for if not for spending their money for your own gain, hmm?” There it is again, your heart thundering loudly inside your chest. “Besides, you'd look marvelous in this coat. I'll give you a discount because you're the nicest customer I've had in years.” She leans closer to you, draping the leather coat on your shoulders for you to see. You beam at her, thankful. “It's similar to the one I gave to him, you'd be matching. Well, except this one is in a lighter shade.”

The coat reaches down to your knees, cream coloured with little fringes up front right where the front pockets are. It's beautiful with its white threads weaving around its seams. If you look closer at the bottom, you see that it gets darker as it gets closer to the hem. An almost brown shade that reminds you of the oak tree back home.

You inhale, staring at your reflection that you barely recognize in the new clothes. “Do you think it suits me?” Your voice is small, Yuri watches your expression, understanding what you truly meant.

Her playful voice lowers to a softer one, hands rubbing along your arms comfortably. “Of course, sweetheart. You're more than ready for the badlands.” You smile at her, nodding along to her encouraging words.

She twirls you around to face her, you chuckle at the sudden good hearted movement. “Now, my favourite part, the boots!”

—

You pick lint off the armchair while you wait for him to exit out of the dressing room. You're comfortable in your new clothes, it snuggles you cozily, you've never felt like this in any clothing at all; whether it be silk or velvet, all the dresses back home don't compare to what you have on. You look at your dark cowboy boots once again with a faint smile, its gorgeous spider web-like design has your heart bouncing in glee. It's a stark contrast to the threadbare shoes you had on. You make the shiny spurs clink on the floor, chuckling to yourself.

“Careful, don't scruff my floors.” Yuri appears next to you, handing you a small messenger bag.

“What's this?”

“A bag, every woman needs one to store her belongings.” She gestures towards the worn out skirt on your lap. “Especially the important ones.”

“I—”

“It's on the house, just this one though.” She chuckles before handing it to you.

“Thank you, Yuri. That's awfully kind of you.” The leather is rough against your bare hands.

“No worries, darling.” She shrugs, “after all the things you've bought it's only normal that I'd give you a little freebie.”

A door suddenly creaks open, and out comes Hobie in his new outfit. A light airy dress shirt fits perfectly on his torso, the same black bandana still hangs around his neck, hiding the large scar. He fixes the fit of his dark blue vest even though it clearly doesn't need fixing. It has a typical western embroidery on it, saved for the almost invisible peonies dotted along the buttons. His gloves are the same, lighter around the palms where friction is usually present. You flick your eyes over to his coat, Yuri's right, it's almost the same as yours. The length is shorter to accommodate for the warmer weather coming in. The shade is in this mahogany brown, warm in the eyes, a hue lighter around the hem, almost as light as your own coat. Frills are lined around the arms, the silver spikes placed atop the shoulders makes it more unique. His belt buckle this time is different, a spider trapped in amber in place of the deadly scorpion. It's cradled in silver, laurels weaving around the corpse of the spider like an elegant coffin.

Your eyes shine at his handsome appearance. “My, don't you look dapper.” You drink him up, every new thing satisfying your need. Roaming your eyes downward, you tilt your head at the odd material on his legs. His boots are the same, even the spurs, but you can't quite place the new fangled blue thing around his legs. “What's that?”

Both Yuri and Hobie follow your gaze. But Yuri seems to be the only one who could form a coherent sentence. “They're blue jeans, or work pants. Much more comfortable than the old pants. Looks nicer on the behind, eh?” She nudges you, winking at your flustered expression. “Or enhances what's lacking.” Her last comment trails off as you unabashedly ogle him.

“Fuckin' hell.” Hobie finally speaks, his eyes avoid your form. Especially the vest that cinches you right where it matters. “Why do you have a bag?”

You stand up, slinging the bag over your shoulder. Yuri watches the whole thing with amused eyes. “For my things.”

He furrows his brows, “you don't have things, Y/N.”

Eyeing the riding gloves on the table, you cross the small distance, taking it, but before you place it inside the bag, you spot a pretty pink lace ribbon next to it. You also take it for good measure and to annoy him further. Putting it inside your bag, you teasingly smile at him. “Now I've got things.”

Yuri gives you a nod and a thumbs up whilst Hobie takes out bills to pay for everything.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” She victoriously smiles, counting the money.

“Not a pleasure on my part.” Hobie grumbles, you clamp your mouth shut to prevent a laugh from coming out.

—

The saloon is bustling with people even though it's still early in the morning. Some drink their fill next to you at the bar, some are just like you, looking for something warm to fill their bellies with to survive the rest of the day. The whole place smells of hard liquor and broken dreams. You have no idea which smells worse, the sticky floors or the lavatory at the far end of the place. The wide windows help brighten up the place at least, sunlight streaming into the carved establishment. Animal heads stare down at you, an elk’s and a buffalo's empty beady eyes look over yonder the drunkard's solace.

A piano sits just behind you, its stool is currently empty, maybe you should put all the lessons drilled into you to good use. It's better to wait for your meal there than sit right next to a stranger who looks like he's about to expel his breakfast onto your new clothes. Besides, some good music could tamp down all the drunken mumbling and the annoying scrapping of plates.

Hobie notices your heavy look, abandoning his coffee, he taps your shoulder and you almost jump in your skin.

“You still play?” He asks, eyes flicking between you and the old piano.

“I dabble, but I'm a bit rusty. I prefer gardening nowadays.” You lock eyes with him, “and shooting.”

Hobie chuckles in his seat, eyes avoiding your own smile. “You should play, I'll call you when our food is ‘ere.”

“Are you sure?” A soft smile spreads across your lips.

“I’ll watch your back, don't worry.”

Hope weighs you down again. You leave the bar stool, walking the distance towards the familiar black and white keys. Sitting down, you wrack your brain for the notes you've made a long time ago. A song that you've written yourself for the man who watches your back.

Hobie watches you intently, ears perking up at the unfamiliar music. Your hands move precisely, fingers pressing quickly as the song quickens. He smiles, glass now lay forgotten on the bar to watch you play your music. The rest of the bar quiets down a smidge, even the drunkards pause their lips at the mouth of their glass to listen to you play. The song crescendos, from a fast happy beat to a tone that is slower, a forlorn one. All in all, you play it with grace, and weaved with so much emotion.

Hobie scoffs, yet the fond smile stays. “Rusty my arse.”

The bartender appears behind him, plates in hand. “Your girl plays well.” The man places your meals on the bar, pumpkin soup sloshing on the sides of the bowl. Hobie turns towards him, not fully so he could still see you in his peripheral vision. “Is she for hire? Our player retired a few weeks ago, the saloon has never been this drab.”

“No, we're just passin’ by.”

The bartender leaves with a nod. “Too bad.”

Hobie takes his sandwich, twisting around to continue watching you. His eyes zeroes in on the sudden presence next to you. The brim of the stranger's hat hides his face, yet, Hobie knows exactly who he is based on his confident stance. Or who he was before Hobie single handedly destroyed his gang.

You finish the song with a flair, chest heaving, grinning from ear to ear.

“Bravo!” The man leaning towards the piano claps, then a chorus of scattered applause follows right after. “Amazing, sweetheart! Where'd ya learn how to play?”

“A tutor.” You smile shyly.

“Ah, what's the song called? I don't think I've heard of it before.” His long beard moves while he makes casual conversation.

“I-I made it actually.”

“Oh? I didn't know we had a composer in our humble establishment.” He taps the old piano with his gloved hand, his other hand rests on his gun belt, golden pistol shining in the sun. “What's the story behind it, eh? My ears picked up some sad depressing story through the notes.”

“I'm not a composer, a-and yeah, I made it for somebody.”

“Well, I—”

“Culver!” Hobie's booming voice echoes out in the entire saloon, everyone stops what they're doing. “You want to talk to me? Come over ‘ere instead of pestering her.” He has had enough of the conversation, and the danger that you've unknowingly put yourself into.

“Mr. Brown.” Culver says through gritted teeth, standing up straight, flicking the brim of his hat to reveal his face. “Fancy seein’ you here. You're in my territory, spider.”

You notice every single patrons’ faces turning into something akin to a person seeing a ghost, or the reaper itself. Slyly, you move your eyes over to the man, Culver, his name is familiar, you're sure you've heard of it before. Inhaling, you look back at Hobie, whose hand is placed on his gun belt, ready to whip it out if needed. He silently communicates with you, run, his eyes says, but you're paralyzed by fear when you finally remember where you heard the name Culver. It was what that old man Arthur said back then, he's the man whose men were killed by Hobie in a single night.

Heaviness hangs in the air, tension so thick that you can't even poke a hole right through it with a bullet.

“Is she someone precious to ya?” Culver says, suddenly gripping you by the scruff of your blouse, your back hitting the piano keys harshly. You yelp, and Hobie abruptly stands up, eyes aflame. The bearded man smiles, blackened teeth in full display. “She is, isn't she?” He wiggles your head in his hand. You sit there frozen, unable to even breathe. “What if I do the exact thing you did to my men, eh?” You hear chairs scraping against hardwood floors and boots frantically running towards the back exit. It's just you three in the saloon. He taps his finger in between your eyes, flaking leather on your soft skin. “A bullet in between her eyes would look lovely on her, don't you agree?”

“Your quarrel is with me. Let's take this outside, shall we?” Like a strike of lightning, Hobie cracks his bullwhip towards Culver. Dust in your eyes, the high pitched sound ringing in your ears. You then see Culver getting dragged away from you by his arm. The whip wraps around his flesh, threatening to skin him from the force Hobie pulls him towards the swinging doors of the saloon.

You inhale the gunpowder like scent it left, standing up, you quickly follow Hobie out into the sun. As the light hits your eyes, you watch Hobie cracks his bullwhip again. Culver yells in pain as Hobie releases him in the whip's clutches before placing it neatly back on his belt. He stands ways away from him, just across the screaming Culver.

“Painful, innit? This is what you did to two of my mates.” You walk to Hobie's side, he spares you a glance, roaming his jade eyes over you to check for injuries. Satisfied, he then returns his attention towards his target. “Remember that fuckin' pain, because my bullet hitting your heart would hurt much more than this.”

Culver holds his aching arm, kneeling on the muddy ground, hat fallen next to him, revealing a shiny head. “You lettin’ me go?” He cackles, you don't hide behind Hobie. “Just like that? Oh that woman has softened you up, Mr. Brown.”

“D’you want to keep talking or do you want to fuckin' start?”

You knit your eyebrows, fear encompasses you. “W-what’s about to start?” Your hand finds his bicep, holding on to him tightly like he's about to leave you. Again.

“A showdown, go to the side, love, I don't want you ‘ere when the bullets start flyin’” He watches Culver slowly stand up in the corner of his eyes.

“A fucking duel? Are you crazy?” You grip tighter.

Hobie gives you a smile, the same smile he lets you see every night before you head home. It's a boyish smile, innocence hidden behind it. “Go, I'll be fine.”

“And if not? He looks like he's a gunslinger. What if he wins and you die?”

“Then I can't burden you anymore.” He whispers, green eyes glimmering in the sunlight.

“Burden—? What are you talking about?”

“Go, I'll win, don't worry about it.”

“Hobie—!”

“Go, Y/N!”

You move without question after he yells at you. Your hands trembles, knees going weak, tears brimming in your eyes, and he can't even look at you.

As the two men move further away without turning their backs towards each other, you hold onto the saloon's pillar lest you crumble from fear of losing him. Again.

Bystanders look on, watching the spectacle unfold right in front of their eyes. Some hide behind windows, children hide behind their mother's skirts. While you have nowhere to hide. Your nails dig into the wood, Hobie squares his shoulders, fingers brushing along his holster. You spare a look towards his target, his hand already resting next to his yellow-gold gun.

Silence hangs in the air. Death waits for the loser.

Hobie squints his eyes, attention fully on the man before him. He leans back slightly, right foot stepped forward, silver gun shining in the sun; you can even see your reflection on it.

With a single breath, it's all over.

Culver was too slow to quickdraw, probably from his still aching arm. He drops his gun before he could fully draw it out. Hobie's bullet has left a sizable hole in his dominant palm, a gaping, bleeding wound that you can see through if you stare long enough.

Culver screams, a gutteral shriek that worms into your mind. He drops to his knees, eyes wide in panic and shock, trousers drenched in his own blood. Gunpowder still lingers in the air when you run towards Hobie's side. Your hands grip his shoulders, breath stuck in your throat, as you check for any bullet wounds.

“Are you hurt?!” You scream, ears ringing from the loud shot.

“‘m fine,” your wandering hands find reprieve on his jaw. “Love, ‘m fine.”

He sees fear in your eyes like never before, not even when you get punished, cheeks stained with tears from whatever they've thrown at you. You've never looked like this terrified. Scared like a starving doe caught in a bear trap.

“Remember what I told you?” You can't speak or even think. “Breathe, Y/N.” Hobie takes your hand off his skin, there's a reluctance that you're not privy to. “Just breathe, inhale and exhale.” He holds your hand, squeezing once before leaving your side. “I need to finish the job.”

You exhale and he's gone, the golden gun kicked far away, aiming the still warm barrel against Culver's head. “No…” Running after Hobie, you refuse to see another dead man. “Stop! Please.” Gripping his gun once again, you plead with him. “Don't kill him.”

“Step aside, Y/N. If I don't—” he can't fathom what Culver would do to him, to *you if he doesn't end it right there and then. The cycle must stop, he can't accomplish it if you're standing in between his gun and Culver's soft head. “Don't get involved.”

“Please.” You breathe out, warm hands placed around his shooting hand. “Take him to the sheriff, let justice take its course. He's backing down, I don't want to see you kill another one.”

“The sheriff won't do shit. Just like now,” he nudges his head towards the man amidst the crowd. “Let me do this, or he'll follow us and hunt us down.”

“I won't!” Culver suddenly yells, even louder than his painful screams. “I won't follow! I'm tired, Mr. Brown. I don't want to do this no more.” He looks up at the two of you, remourse evident on his face. “I'm sorry about your friends, I really am! But we're already even, you've taken mine too. Every single one I've got.”

“Promise to never exact revenge,” you tell the groveling man as you watch his salty tears mix in with the warm crimson.

“I promise,” Culver cries. “I promise, miss.”

You look back at Hobie, your eyes meet his own. Anger subsides in those emerald eyes, face turning soft. “He promises, Hobie.”

“An outlaw's promise doesn't mean shit—”

“You’ll have to shoot through me to get to him.” You point the barrel right on top of your chest, its warmth seeps through you.

“He wanted to hurt you.” Hobie softly says, fingers wrapping around your own.

“I’m not hurt. It takes more than threats to hurt me, Hobs.” You both stare at each other, hearts beating together. “Can you holster your gun please?”

Together, you help him lower his gun. Together, you let Culver go.

—

You need to leave town immediately. Strawberry's sheriff might've been easily placated with a good duel, but other lawmen pursuing Hobie might not be. Bucky neighs loudly at the sight of you, moreso when he sees your intertwined hands.

“Hi, Bucky.” You start to place your foot on the stirrups but Hobie stops you halfway.

“You need a horse. Might as well put your new gloves to good use, hmm?” You smile as Hobie whistles for the stable hand for help. A teenage boy with worn out blue jeans appears. “She needs a horse. Anythin' fast, or hell, anythin' you have available. What do you have?”

Their conversation drifts into the background. Your attention and breath is taken away by the gorgeous mare that stands behind a stable door. Her shining blue eyes watch you as you approach, hair as white as snow, the same hue as her body, she glimmers in the sunlight that filters through the wooden cracks. She huffs, head leaning away when you hold out your hand. You could only wait for her to make the move, watching you with peculiar eyes like she's sizing you up.

The stable boy does a double take, “wait, ma'am, that's not—!” When he says it, the white mare leanes closer to your touch. “Well I'll be. She never lets anyone touch her except my boss. She's as fine as cream gravy that one is.”

“I think she likes me.” You tilt your head as she sniffs your hand.

“That's a fuckin' arabian, love.” Hobie says breathlessly, watching you and the hot tempered horse interact like you've been her rider for years. “Can't you pick another horse that doesn't cost three horses combined?”

You laugh, feeding the mare hay. “I could, but I really think she's the one for me.” Hobie scratches the back of his neck. “I can choose another one, Hobie.” As if understanding your words, the mare nudges your shoulder. Hobie feels like he's being robbed in broad daylight. But he'll spend a million for you if you ask.

The stable boy pipes up from the side. “You can't actually, ma'am, I was just tellin’ your husband here that we only have her available. The rest already have owners you see. She was abandoned six months ago.”

“How could anyone abandon you?” You whisper towards the horse, petting her head as she welcomes your touch.

“I think her last owner died, and no one has since picked her up, or bought her. My boss is more than willing to get rid of her now to make space.”

“We'll take her, on a discounted fee of course, since she's second hand. And a saddle too.” You grin at Hobie's words.

The stable hand sighs. “At half price too I bet?”

“Now you're speakin’ my language.” Hobie pats the boy's shoulder as he negotiates prices. The mare huffs again, asking for more hay while you are distracted by Hobie's wink thrown your way.

—

“She still doesn't have a name.” Hobie finally breaks his silence, he rides alongside your horse, making sure that your ill tempered mare doesn't buck you off. His hands guide Buckeye, but his eyes are completely on your form.

The road is long and empty, save for a herd of bison roaming just below the mountain you're both trudging. There are small graves littered around the road, worn out crosses, wood eaten by termites. Etched names forgotten, lives scattered in the wind amidst the dirt and blazing sun. You wonder how they died without getting to their final destination. The sun has completely risen, humidity making your lips dry, heat stuck in between your skin and the leather of your gloves. The canopy shields you from the rays, luscious greenery everywhere, trees and grass littered all over the mountain side. You can hear wild horses neighing far away from where you are, their hooves thumping freely on the soil.

You pause from braiding your horse's hair, securing the braid with the pink lace ribbon. Your eyes meet with familiar emerald eyes. “I've been thinking about it actually.”

“Well? What are your options?”

Your lips curl into a mischievous smile. “‘Blue jeans’”

“Oh fuck off.” He rides ahead to hide his growing smile.

You quickly follow, pulling the reins, clicking your tongue to make your horse trot alongside Hobie. “Why not? I like it, I think it fits her.”

“No it does not. You're fucking with me, lovie, and my blue jeans.”

You like him like this, bathed in the sun, in warmth as he smiles back at you; just like the days when you were still just friends, friends with lingering feelings that you're both too afraid to confess. If he doesn't love you back just as before, you'd settle for this, just friends who laugh and talk, and tease each other. It's better this way because friendship means that he still cares for you, that there's still a space for you in his heart no matter how small it is, that you're not forgotten.

“Oh you and your precious blue jeans!” Your laughter echoes around.

“Will you be like this the entire time?” You both turn a corner, where no trees shield you from the sun. He notices you narrow your eyes, palm above your eyes to see him better. “‘ere.”

“W-what?” There's suddenly a hat atop your head, his hat. “Oh!” You run your fingers along the brim that shields you from the light. The leather is soft, a few bumps here and there but you can feel that it's been taken care of. Hobie clears his throat, and your cheeks run warmer than the summer sun. “T-thank you.” You're not an idiot, you've been here for weeks so of course you've heard of the ‘hat rule’ in passing. But you don't know what to do, or what he wants to do when it's in reverse.

“No problem, you've already taken my money, might as well hand you my hat, eh?” Hobie inhales, the mere sight of you wearing his beloved hat sends his heart into overdrive. Maybe he shouldn't have given it to you.

“You make it sound like I'm robbing you blind. I was alright with my old clothes.”

Hobie has the opportunity to say either of the two things that popped up in his mind. One, tell you that you've only robbed him of his heart. And two, make a joke about how much Bucky disdained carrying you with your musty clothes. So he does neither.

“We had to, or we'll be recognized faster than a mother recognizes her child.” You both finally reach the foot of the mountain, successfully surviving without anyone shooting at you, kidnapping you; or hell, getting eaten by a bear. With both of your luck, it's possible.

“Weird analogy but okay.” Your stomach grumbles when you two come to a stop at a fork in the road. One goes to the right, the other on the left. There's nothing else distinguishable on either one of them. The signage is long gone, taken by strong winds, or just time itself. You wince, hoping that he didn't hear the sound your stomach made.

He raises a brow, chuckling deeply at the sight of you hiding your face with the brim of his hat. “I forgot we didn't get to eat. That sandwich smelt really fuckin' good.”

“I really want that pumpkin soup now.” You groan, leaning forward to rest your head on top of your horse who barely notices your movement.

“C’mon, I know a place.” He taps your boot with his own.

“Where?”

“On the left, it's not that far but it'll delay us on our journey.” It's not a bad deal, he thinks to himself.

You suddenly perk up, this is what you were asking for back in that cave, the road less traveled, the road where you get to just spend more time with him. And postpone your homecoming.

“What are we waiting for then, cowboy?” With a kick, and a laugh in your throat, you bolt over to the direction he pointed out.

“‘Cowboy?’ bloody hell.” He really regrets giving you his hat because now he doesn't have anything to hide his flustered face anymore.

—

“You said it was a restaurant,” you huff at the wide river before you, hands on your hips, stomach growling. “Not that we have to catch our own meal!”

Hobie can't help but laugh, a hearty, genuine one that also has you smiling. This suits him, just happy and without a gun in his hand. You like him in every conceivable way possible, even if you're still getting used to his new self. “I just said, ‘I know a place.’ I ain't no liar. Did you expect a café in the middle of nowhere?”

“Yes! And no— I'm hungry now, Hobs!” Your horse agrees, hoof digging into the dirt. Buckeye stands hitched next to her, eyes glued on her white mane. Weird, you thought. “Look, even blue jeans agree!”

“Instant gratification,” Hobie pulls his jacket off and places it on the saddle; he then takes out a folding fishing rod from Bucky's saddle bag. “You should work on that because it's not gonna work well ‘ere, love.” He walks towards the river bank, toeing off his boots, folding up the same trousers you love to see him in. And also folding the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his toned arms. “And her name can't be ‘blue jeans!’” Yelling back, he trudges the rushing cool water that goes up to just below his knees.

“Okay, fine!” You start to strip, taking off your coat and his hat— folding your trousers and sleeves, you follow him to the rocky river bank. “How about ‘trout’ then.”

He hears your voice closer, he laughs at you when you almost slip on a rock. “Careful, it's slippery. You can't name her ‘trout,’ she's too pretty for that.”

“Now you tell me,” you roll your eyes at him as he casts the line. The bait and hook plops in the deeper water, now the waiting game begins. “‘Too pretty?’ you once nicknamed me beetle just because it bit me once!” Warmth spreads across your chest at his laugh. You feel at home in that cold river.

“And? You callin' yourself pretty?” His smirk takes you back at that oak tree.

You have an urge to kiss it off him. You don't, it's not the time yet, or you may ruin everything. “Yeah, you did, I remember you calling me pretty…” you lean closer, face dangerously close to his own. Breaths mixing in together, but you still give him enough space to move away. He doesn't. You don't mention it. He thinks about your lips upon his. “And gorgeous, and then absolutely stunnin’!” You copy his drawl, but before he could even laugh at your teasing, the fishing rod starts to move, yanking him forward.

“Oh fuck!” Hobie reels it in, and you gasp in disbelief at the sheer strength the fish has. “Help me or we'll starve!”

“You don't have to tell me twice!” You embrace him from the back, arms squeezing him, face smothered by his shoulder. He feels warm, he still feels the same. You dig your heels in while he fights with lunch. “Come on, cowboy!”

He almost let go of the rod. “Shit!” You laugh into his shirt and he almost falters once again. “Come on you little—!” With one hard yank, he finally sees the fish fly up, the sun hits its scales, body frantically flopping around. But he pulled too hard, and down he goes on the river bank, with you catching him. “Fuck—!” With a splash, you get a face full of river water.

Hobie immediately jumps to the side to not squash you and drown you in two feet of water. His eyes are full of worry when you emerge coughing. He almost lets go of the rod to tend to you, but your smile and guffaw has relief flowing through him.

“How big is it?!” You ask, entirely drenched.

He gently wipes your face, calloused palms over your soft skin, fingers carefully wiping away a piece of grass stuck on your cheek. You close your eyes, letting him hold you.

Hobie inhales and drinks you in— he still loves you. It's always been there, his love for you, but he refuses to acknowledge it with what he knows just before he left, with what *he said before he took a slice at his neck. Hobie still dreams of you, still dreams of saying those three words again, he's a fool to bury the feeling, especially when you're in front of him again— close to him again, loving him again.

He has no idea what to do now, other than to stand up and give you a helping hand.

—

Hobie's been silent and you have no idea why. You warm yourself on the fire he built, the fish you both caught is now cooking wonderfully on the open fire. The river's currents are a lot stronger now, so it's a lot harder to catch anything without getting carried by it. Your clothes are slowly drying as you wring your sleeves free of water.

“Cherry.” You suddenly break the silence. “I think I'll name her cherry.”

Hobie sits across you again, gazing at you through warmer eyes. “Why cherry?”

“Because horses love fruit, and cherry is a fruit.”

“Brilliant thinkin’ love, horses definitely eat cherries.” He says in a sarcastic tone.

You furrow your brows, “wait, they don't?”

He blinks, “Huh, ‘m actually not sure. Maybe if you take out the pits and cut it in half?”

“That’s…that's plausible, they contain cyanide though.”

“Maybe we should ask them?”

“What?” You chortle, and Hobie cups his hands to yell at the horses.

“Oi! D’you lot eat cherries?” They only stare at him. “Guess not.” You laugh, he finds it infectious so he also does.

“Horses can't talk, Hobs.” You say in between giggles.

“You never know, I might be a horse whisperer.” His smile falters, and you frown at the sudden shift. “‘m sorry for yellin’ at you.” His voice is soft under the cackle of the fire. “I shouldn't have yelled.”

“Apology accepted.” Your nerves calm down, beaming at him, scooching closer to him until your knees grazes his own. He doesn't move away, even nudging your shoulder with a faint smile. “I'm sorry for making you spend so much. But thank you for the nice clothes, and being— just…kind.”

Hobie reaches for your hand slowly, your breath is in your throat, freezing you un place. His pinky brushes along your palm when a twig snaps Hobie quickdraws his gun.

“Who's there?! Show yourself or I'll fuckin' shoot.” Standing up, he hides you with his own body.

You also stand up, hand wrapping around the barrel of the rifle that was leaning next to you. Both yours and Hobie's hearts thump loudly with trepidation. The bush moves and out comes two men brandishing their own weapons. They dress like gentlemen, but their sneers say they are not.

“We came out to piss and we find the spider of the west, guess we're just lucky.” The one with a scar across his nose says, voice scratchy, nudging his companion. “And would you look at that?”

“You’ve found yourself a pretty companion, Hobart, one that has a very high bounty on her head.” The other finishes his partner's sentence. His mustache is all twirly at the end, golden tooth shining in the sun. “Y’know, sweetheart, the whole country's after ya.” You don't falter in your stance.

“With both of your bounties combined, we're aimin’ at ten thousand dollars right now.” The scarred man chuckles.

“Ten thousand?” Hobie whistles, “Can we bring ourselves in instead?” You snort, still aiming at the man's head.

“If only that was possible, Hobart.” The man gives you a twisted smile.

“Are you lawmen?” You ask, “Or pinkertons? You two don't look like either of them.”

“What do we look like then, sweetheart?” The mustachioed man taunts with a toothy smile. “A couple of handsome cowboys?”

“A bunch of dead men.” You push Hobie away, kicking hot coals in their faces, embers flying, smoke filling their lungs. While they're both distracted and yelling at the searing heat— Hobie fans the hammer of his gun, shooting all six bullets into each man's bodies until their lifeless corpses fall atop each other.

“I've seen better.” You stand next to Hobie as he checks for something in their pockets. Their blood slowly spread to the tips of his boots. “What are you doing?”

Hobie rubs a hand across his face, “Lawmen,” he raises the identification papers he found. “We need to go. Pack the fish.”

“But they're dead?” You ask but you still do what you're told.

“Lawmen are like rats, if there's two ‘ere, there's a dozen more near us, hidden under the crevices.” He walks near the banks, head downturned, eyes scanning the plants. “And they've got their noses on us now.”

“Where are you going?” You stand, wrapped fish in your arms. “Hobie!” You start to yell when he has walked a few ways away from you.

Hobie crouches down, hunting knife digging into the soil. You watch him take a bushel of grass, he walks back and now you get a closer look at what he's carrying. You thought your eyes are deceiving you, instead of the familiar green hue, the plant is pink, a very bright shade. There's still dirt clinging to the stems when Hobie carefully covers it with a handkerchief.

“That's oleander, Hobie.” You stare at him, concerned. “And that many could kill a fucking elephant.”

“I know, you taught me, remember?” You nod as shoves it inside your messenger bag. He pauses at the sight of the bundle of letters, then he dismisses them, closing the bag. “It might come in handy.”

“What's your plan?” You're terrified.

“We head to a train station.” He sighs, completely winded, and worried for your safety. “Bounty hunters and outlaws I can manage, but them?” He points at the two bodies. “They've got more resources than either group, and more people in their pocket.”

“Wouldn't that be obvious? Riding the train? We can handle them, just like we always have—”

“They hate my guts more than anyone, Y/N, and they don't fear me as much as bounty hunters or outlaws.”

“But a train…” you shudder. “We'll be in the south in a few days instead of weeks— that's quick, too quick…I don't—” I don't want to leave. “I can't.”

“You wanted the scenic route, right?” He starts to unhitch the horses. “It's the last place they'll look for thinking that we'll be traveling by our lonesome out on the backroads.”

“Yes, but—”

“Nothing’s more scenic than a train ride. C’mon, love, get on Cherry. Before more come out of hidin’”

You nod, tears threatening to spill out. Walking around the corpses, you get on Cherry with a far away look in your eyes. “To the train station then.”

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