#not related to what we reblogged earlier

[technomanceer]

ahh dreamwall... ahh the nearly untapped potential of excruciatingly doomed yuri..... they're so funny to me and also so tragic it makes me want to tear through wood paneling I love seeing them on my page

[skyburger]

RIP reo speedwagon (the jojo's bizarre adventure character) you would've loved reo speedwagon (the american rock band)

[bsdtakanenohana]

There’s no part in the ending of the Hunting Dogs arc that is good, actually

[theo-the-cat-guy]

Do you ever see someone betraying their principles by being extremely unactionable or counterproductive and just cringe so hard because like, you aren't helping, I know you have good intentions but this is exactly the opposite of what we need, you are being petty and small and we cannot afford that why are you doing this!

[official-linguistics-post]

on reconstruction and historical linguistics

to follow up on today's reblog, i want to comment briefly on the apparent misapprehension that linguistic reconstruction is just guesswork with a fancy name, because that's not accurate!

reconstruction is based on specific, well-attested constraints of linguistic development. we know from centuries of investigation that languages tend to change in predictable ways. we also have a decent understanding of the complexities introduced by phenomena like language contact, which can result in borrowing on multiple structural levels. our methods are well established and borne out by evidence.

comparative reconstruction involves applying these known constraints ("rules") in reverse on a collected body of words in related descendant languages. when possible, we also incorporate historical written evidence, which often provides midpoint references for changes in progress. it is always recognized by historical linguists that reconstruction can be imperfect; we cannot know what information has been lost.

the results of reconstruction can be mixed, but i'll let campbell (2013:144) explain:

How Realistic are Reconstructed Proto-languages? The success of any given reconstruction depends on the material at hand to work with and the ability of the comparative linguist to figure out what happened in the history of the languages being compared. In cases where the daughter languages preserve clear evidence of what the parent language had, a reconstruction can be very successful, matching closely the actual spoken ancestral language from which the compared daughters descend. However, there are many cases in which all the daughters lose or merge formerly contrasting sounds or eliminate earlier alternations through analogy, or lose morphological categories due to changes of various sorts. We cannot recover things about the proto-language via the comparative method if the daughters simply do not preserve evidence of them. In cases where the evidence is severely limited or unclear, we often make mistakes. We make the best inferences we can based on the evidence available and on everything we know about the nature of human languages and linguistic change. We do the best we can with what we have to work with. Often the results are very good; sometimes they are less complete. In general, the longer in the past the proto-language split up, the more linguistic changes will have accumulated and the more difficult it becomes to reconstruct with full success. (emphasis mine)

or, to quote labov's (1982:20) pithier if less optimistic approach:

Historical linguistics may be characterized as the art of making the best use of bad data, in the sense that the fragments of the literary record that remain are the results of historical accidents beyond the control of the investigator.

in sum, historical linguists are very realistic about what we can achieve, but the confidence we do have is genuinely well earned, because linguistics is a scientific field and we treat our investigations with rigor.

---

Campbell, Lyle. 2013. Historical Linguistics: An Introduction. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press.

Labov, William. 1982. "Building on Empirical Foundations." In Perspectives on Historical Linguistics. Winifred P. Lehmann and Yakov Malkiel, eds. Pp. 17-92. Amsterdam: John Benjamins.

[megalony]

No One But You

Here is another new Emperor Geta imagine, requested by the lovely @emberdreams I hope you like how it turned out.

Please let me know what you all think and keep the Geta requests coming I am on a roll with writing him at the moment.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix

Main Masterlist

Summary: On the night of their wedding, (Y/n) opens up to Geta about some of her insecurities. He quashes every one and makes sure she knows how glad he is that she's his wife now.

Enjoy.

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

Apprehension bubbled away inside (Y/n) the further they walked down the corridor. She could feel her palms beginning to sweat while she tried to tangle her fingers together in front of her to rid herself of the energy coursing through her veins.

This is what she had been imagining and dreaming of for the last month.

All the preparations, all the panic and the fuss and the organisation, it had all led up to today, but every daydream and every panicked thought (Y/n) had was about tonight, not earlier today.

Her wedding day.

(Y/n) couldn't believe how lucky she was. Not only had she found herself falling for one of the Emperors when she had visited the palace with her father, who happened to be a Senator. But she now found herself married to said Emperor. The highest authority in Rome. The most desired man in Rome, the man who could end a life with the tilt of his thumb. And now (Y/n) was married to him.

Another shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt a warm hand pressing into her lower back. She could feel Geta standing so close to her side that his elbow was brushing her side and his fingers were gliding up and down her lower back between her hips. The smooth action caused his fingers to ruffle a few creases in her pale golden dress.

Cream was always a fashionable colour, but when (Y/n) had been told that she could choose what colour she wanted her wedding dress to be, she knew there was only one colour she could choose.

Golden.

Her new husband's favourite colour. The colour of his luscious hair, the colour he seemed to wear somewhere on his person without fail, every day. The colour that lit up Geta and made everyone think of the sun whenever they saw him. The sun, their source of light and life which related to both Emperors in so many ways.

"Here we are." The low, hushed tone of Geta's voice against the shell of her ear almost made (Y/n) swoon.

She looked up over her shoulder to see a slight smirk dancing across his face, but his expression was genuine, happy even. His make up had been applied heavily for the occasion today and it did not disappoint. His eyes were shrouded in darkness like black coals surrounding two pale brown eyes that looked the colour of mulled wine. And (Y/n) had never seen his lips look so blood red before. He truly was beautiful.

Despite the course of the day, the make up hadn't faded and neither had Geta's mood or energy. If anything, he seemed to have gained more life as the day went on.

Whereas (Y/n) felt like she had become more and more anxious with each passing moment.

She wanted to be a good wife, she didn't want to disappoint her husband.

(Y/n) tried to take note of where they were in the palace but she had long since lost her sense of direction and her bearings. She would need Geta to show her around tomorrow so she could be able to roam the halls without getting herself lost.

After all, this was her new home. Her new room, she had to find her way to and from this corridor.

Her head bowed down and her hands continued to fiddle in front of her while she let Geta step in front of her rather than standing behind her, silently directing her through the halls of the palace.

The festivities had ended, but the distant sound of footsteps and chatter could vaguely be heard. The music had ended, the guests were either retiring to their rooms or making their way back home and the servants were tidying up the banquet hall and clearing the last of the dishes and the drunken fellows from the room.

(Y/n) took the time to look around once Geta opened the chamber door and led her inside. It was both what she had expected and somewhat different to her imaginings.

The adjoining room which she figured served as Geta's private study was spacious. Two desks, a balcony, a purple and red rug lined the floor. Plants in the corners, long white veil drapes hung beside the windows behind a large sofa. The only thing (Y/n) couldn't find were any books anywhere. There were some papers on the desk, but they looked like official state business.

She allowed a smile to flutter across her lips when Geta reached out for her hand and beckoned her to follow him. He led her through into the adjoining room. The bedroom.

(Y/n) curled her free hand around Geta's bare arm and leaned into his side as she looked around the bedroom that was twice the size of her room from when she lived at home. She almost didn't notice the maid stood timidly in the corner until Geta turned towards her.

It was clear she had turned down the bed and set some fresh wine on the table.

"You may go." Geta ticked his wrist to the side to give the maid a signal to leave.

There was a slight look of bewilderment in her eyes but she was quick to nod, curtsey and scurry from the room. It was unusual for the Emperor to be so passive and mellow. All the servants were used to being dismissed by Geta raging at them. Sometimes all that was needed was one angered look from him and the maids went running. Other times he would shout at them to move, to leave him be and get out of the way.

Once, after a very bad argument with his brother when Caracalla had been in one of his moods, Geta had thrown a glass at one of the maids when he shouted at her to leave. He regretted it afterwards, and made sure that maid worked in the kitchens from now on so he didn't have to bump into her again.

Once the maid left and the doors were safely closed, Geta turned his head to look down at (Y/n). There was a hopeful look in his eyes as he stared down at her.

"Do you like it?" He was suddenly very anxious and he wasn't sure how he would respond if she said no. He wanted her to like the room, this was going to be her room, her home, from now on.

"It's lovely." (Y/n) leaned her cheek against Geta's arm while she looked around.

She could quite happily live in this room alone. The bed was bigger than any she had ever seen or slept in before. There was a lounge sofa at the foot of the bed and she knew that once the sun rose in the morning, this room would be flooded with light.

There were even flowers in a vase on the far table along with a pitcher of wine. All that was missing was a few books and maybe an ornament or two so it was truly homely.

(Y/n) was surprised by Geta's sudden affection when he leaned down and kissed her temple with his lips still curved into a bright smile.

She felt him murmur "Good," against her temple before he pulled back and her eyes followed him as he moved to the vanity in the far corner of the room. He began shedding the rings and cuffs from his hands and wrists and the golden leaf crown that was nestled so suitably into his hair.

Her eyes found themselves locked on him, surprised and intrigued as she watched him begin to remove each article of jewellery so slowly and carefully. And she noticed that each one had its own place on the vanity. Maybe that was just how Geta liked things, or perhaps it was a strategy to make sure no one tried to pilfer any of his jewels. (Y/n) would have to find out, she had to learn these things, these quirks and habits of her husband.

She continued to gaze across at him while she slowly stepped into the room and decided to perch down on the end of the bed.

The mattress was soft, it felt like sinking into a cloud and (Y/n) laid her hands down on her lap as she continued to watch Geta with growing anticipation and nerves.

All the wine was going to her head.

That thought made a small smile curve at (Y/n)'s lips as she quietly shook her head to herself. It wasn't as if she had drank enough to sink a ship. She had barely had three glasses of spiced wine all night, but that was enough to mingle in with the adrenaline surging through her system making her feel lightheaded.

She didn't want to be so nervous, she didn't want to feel so childish and silly, but she couldn't help it.

This was it. Tonight was going to change things. They would truly be husband and wife after tonight. Her mother had said this would make her a 'true woman' after sleeping with her husband. This was the start of her new life, and (Y/n) wanted so badly to please Geta. It was pressing on her mind so much that she was starting to panic again.

(Y/n)'s eyes followed Geta's movements as he stripped the red and golden robes from his shoulders and the belt from his waist. She hadn't seemed to notice that he had figured out she was watching him until their eyes met. Something mischevious glinted in those dark eyes and she could see his teeth beginning to nibble down on his lower lip while he watched her.

The way he stalked towards her made (Y/n) wonder if this was how the animals felt when the hunting parties went out. If those animals knew they were ensnared in a trap, about to be caught and claimed.

She moved her hands to grip the edge of the bed, steadying herself while she watched Geta walk slowly towards her. Her head angled back and her eyes followed him as he stood close enough that their knees were now touching and he stooped forward so he was leaning over her. His hand gently brushed beneath her chin and he tilted her head back a little more so their gazes were interlocked.

(Y/n) wasn't sure she could scramble one coherent thought together as she looked up at him. And when his other hand glided along her chin and round to the back of her neck, she didn't know what to do.

A small sound tumbled past her lips when she felt Geta's nimble fingers weaving into her neatly pinned hair.

He easily pulled a pin from the back of her hair and watched with a glowering grin as her hair fell from its previous style. Loose tendrils fluttered towards her shoulders and bounced around her cheeks and near her eyes. Geta had the sudden urge to run his fingers through her hair, to knot his fingers in her tendrils and pull and angle her head in his direction.

"Beautiful." He muttered with a grin to rival all others and when (Y/n) tried to bashfully duck her head, she felt his hand press into her chin to prevent her from looking away from him.

She was sure he murmured "Don't hide from me," but his voice was so tender and quiet that she couldn't be sure whether she heard him or simply imagined it. Either way, Geta's lips were suddenly on hers, overriding every other thought she had and turning her brain to mush.

She felt his hands slither down until he was gripping her waist with his thumbs gliding over her hips. (Y/n) felt like she was turning to jelly the longer he kissed her. She was almost going limp in his arms and it allowed Geta to shuffle her further up the bed until she was sat in the middle and he was knelt over her with his knees pressing down on either side of her thighs.

When his wine-stained lips finally let her come up for air, (Y/n) couldn't help but admire the way he sank back on his heels and stayed kneeling over her lap like this. It was a position she had never been in before, but one she was already in love with.

(Y/n) wasn't quite sure what to do with herself when Geta leaned forward and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. She decided on settling her hands on his broad shoulders while she fought back a shiver when his lips attached to the side of her neck. She couldn't help but scratch her nails against his shoulders when his teeth grazed against her skin but it seemed to encourage him further.

She stayed amicably still while Geta leaned further into her and hovered over her, looking like an angel cast in the gentle candlelight.

Her hands moved from his shoulders to daringly cup either side of his neck and her thumbs grazed along the sharp cut of his jaw when Geta lifted his head to kiss her again. It felt like he was stealing all the air from his lungs and (Y/n) would gladly give it all to him if that's what he desired.

She could feel herself going lightheaded while his tongue parted her lips and had her straining to stay sitting upright when he was leaning enough that she was close to falling on her back.

But her eyes opened with intrigue when she felt Geta's hands move. She watched, wide-eyed but somewhat calm and still while he began his administrations of pulling the short golden straps down her arms. The feeling of his fingertips gliding along her skin was soft and ticklish and she held her breath when Geta hooked his finger in the cleavage of her dress so he could further pull it down.

He liked the way her chest started to heave with faster, shallow breaths the more he continued to tug on her dress until he unhooked it from around her hips and discarded it somewhere on the floor. He liked how nervous she seemed and how she was clearly waiting for him to make each movement like she was too afraid to move on her own and do something first.

Although he was pleasantly surprised when (Y/n) seemed to become unstuck and her hands moved of their own accord. He paused with his hands settled on her bare hips and his lips attached to the edge of her mouth, barely touching and parted enough so that Geta could glance his eyes down and watch her slow movements.

He stayed pliant and curious while (Y/n)'s fingertips tickled his waist and she fished around for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. Geta obliged, parting from her so she could tug the golden material over his head, following his lead by tossing it somewhere on the floor.

It seemed unfair how he had undressed (Y/n) but had stayed still somewhat clothed before her. She wanted to even the scales.

"Okay?"

Geta's question took her by surprise and (Y/n)'s wide eyes lifted to lock with his as she nodded. Lips slightly parted in that docile look that made her look like a Goddess sat before him.

(Y/n) allowed her eyes to drag along Geta's frame, allowing herself to take in his pale milky skin and search for any marks or scars. Anything on he great canvas that was his skin so she could commit each mark to memory. She wanted to be able to know Geta's body like a map of the world, something she could trace and get to know and navigate even with her eyes closed.

Her observations were cut off when Geta leaned forward and pecked her lips, gently at first. Then again and again until he was slowly nudging her down into the bed, devouring her lips like they were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over her lower lip and his right hand gave her flesh a tight squeeze as he continued to hover above her.

Her hands moved round to cup his face and her thumbs brushed across his freshly shaven face. He tensed up his chest and pushed down, effortlessly pinning her back against the mattress so she stayed beneath him. Right where he wanted her.

She felt like the bed was made of quick sand that was swallowing her whole. The more Geta leaned down into her, the more (Y/n) felt like she was about to disappear, but in the best possible way.

Geta attached his lips to her jaw while one hand slid down her waist to find purchase on her hip. But after a moment or two, he noticed the faraway look in her eyes like she was wandering some place else in her mind.

His lips peppered across her jaw, up the corner of her mouth and after a few soft pecks to her mouth, he hummed "Okay?" against her lips.

(Y/n) tried to nod, but she could see the look in Geta's eyes told her he didn't quite believe her.

Her hands moved to settle on his shoulders again and she lifted her head, chasing after his lips when he pulled back so he could look down on her properly. (Y/n) didn't want him to worry or think that something was wrong when it wasn't. It was simply (Y/n)'s mind running away without her, she couldn't help all her thoughts that were starting to override everything else.

She knew she needed to calm down and relax, that she needed to let every worry run out of her head so she could be in this moment with Geta. After all, this is what she had been worrying, thinking and dreaming about for weeks now.

She tried again to kiss him but Geta angled his head to one side and arched a brow in that mannerism that told her to tell him the truth. They had been married only hours and already he could tell when she wasn't telling him something.

"I'm just… nervous." (Y/n) did her best to hide the embarrassment from her voice and stop from ducking her head down so she wasn't avoiding his gaze. She guessed if she tried to look away he would simply lift her chin so she was looking at him again.

"Of me?" There was an air of concern in Geta's voice, but it didn't fade the smile on his lips.

A flutter of panic bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest and ignited in her eyes, especially when Geta moved. She thought for a moment that he was about to climb off her and possibly move away, that she might have offended him without realising. But he was simply switching positions.

Instead of kneeling with each knee pressing into her thighs, Geta shifted until (Y/n) parted her thighs and he could kneel between them instead. His abdomen pressed down against hers and he propped up on his elbows so he didn't let his full weight crush down on her. He began to glide his fingertips along her shoulder and across the bare expanse of her chest which caused (Y/n) to shiver beneath him.

"No, no… I just, I want to be good enough for you. I want to be able to take care of you properly."

That was the best way that (Y/n) could word what was circling through her mind.

She was truly afraid she wouldn't be enough. It was a miracle that Geta had even been interested in her in the first place and that he seemed to truly care about her. All her life, (Y/n) had been brought up to know that any marriage she was presented with by her parents would be about advantages and prosperity, not love or someone she truly wanted to be with.

Falling for Geta had been one thing, but him falling for her too and asking her to marry him felt too good to be true. And (Y/n) wanted to be good enough for him. She wanted to be a good wife, she wanted to be enough for Geta in every sense of the word. It was her duty as a wife to please him, especially when it came to sex and having an heir.

But (Y/n) had never done this before and she couldn't help the gnawing worry in the back of her mind that she might not be good enough for Geta. That he would be bored with her or think she wasn't enticing or satisfying enough for him. After all, it was no secret that both Emperors had their fair share of women. They made that clear when they turned up to events and gatherings with their vast gathering of concubines and whores.

"You're worried you won't be enough?" Genuine confusion entwined in Geta's voice as his smile faded into a frown.

He couldn't gather where (Y/n) would get an idea like that. Had he done something to give her that impression? Did he make a remark that made her worry? Had someone else poisoned her ear against him? Why wouldn't she be good enough for him?

(Y/n) felt like ducking her head down to avoid that intensifying gaze, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she focused her gaze on the dark circles beneath his eyes that hadn't been washed off yet. And she rose her hand to glide her fingertips up the side of his neck, tracing each curve and muscle that pressed out against his skin.

"You've been with other lovers, Geta. I haven't." She couldn't look him in the eyes as she spoke, it made her feel so silly and somehow ashamed.

It wasn't the same for him as it was for her.

It was encouraged for men to be with women before marriage, but if a woman slept with a man before she was married then she was shamed. She was outcast. She was no longer virtuous. And (Y/n) was the daughter of a Senate, her virtue was something she was brought up to hold dear.

Clearly Geta had slept with other women, it was natural and he made no secret of it. But that meant he had more experience with sexual partners whereas (Y/n) didn't. She didn't want to do something wrong or somehow be boring for him and make him prefer the company of his concubines rather than her.

Her eyes widened and finally looked back up to his when Geta reached his hand up from tracing her chest to curl lightly around her wrist that was resting beside his face. He leaned into her touch and turned his head to press a delicate kiss against the inside of her wrist over her throbbing pulse.

"That doesn't mean a thing, dear wife. There might have been others before you, but there won't be anyone else but you now. You're the only one I want; it's you I was determined to marry."

Geta thought his words would have made her smile, but he hated how (Y/n) turned her head to the side so her cheek was pressed into the cushion and she was no longer looking up at him. The action caused a frown to pull deeper at his pale features and he leaned his weight on her a little more so he could reach up and turn her head back in his direction.

He wanted her to believe him because he was telling the truth, he wasn't lying to calm her or give her a false sense of security. She was the girl who caught his eye, she was the one who stole his heart from the very moment he saw her and she was the one who Geta made sure he married.

He spoke to her parents about an engagement as soon as he could, he made sure he didn't have to wait long to marry her because she was the one his heart wanted. He thought she would have figured that out by now.

"You don't believe me?" There was something almost frightful and powerful in his voice which made (Y/n)'s breathing hitch and her chest pushed up against his as she took a deep breath.

She wasn't trying to aggravate him or upset him, she was simply speaking her mind because he had asked.

"My mother prepared me; I know of the concubines and that my place will always be above them-"

(Y/n) had been well prepared.

After the initial shock and her parents brief floundering, her mother had sat her down to talk. She went through everything with (Y/n) from how prestigious this marriage was for their family to what it would mean for (Y/n) to become an Empress.

One of the things that came up was the subject of concubines. (Y/n) knew Geta and Caracalla had a handful of women like that. But she had been told that a wife always came first. A wife was higher than a concubine in the ladder of class and states.

Concubines were mistresses, some of them were treated like wives, they were there for whatever the Emperors wanted whether it was sex, company or someone to talk to. But once (Y/n) married Geta, she would become higher than those women.

Her mother told her that she couldn't expect the Emperor to give up his women. He had a right to have them around the palace if he wished, he would likely get bored and go to them in dark nights when he seeked pleasure. That was something (Y/n) had been told was normal. And when- her mother always said when, not if- (Y/n) became pregnant, there would be a point where Geta would have to abstain from her. It was to make sure the pregnancy wasn't compromised.

During that time, Geta would need someone to go to, someone to be with when he couldn't be with (Y/n).

It hurt, but she had no right to challenge it. She was just hoping that she would be enough for Geta and that he wouldn't go to those women unless (Y/n) was pregnant and couldn't be with him any longer. She didn't want to think of him wandering to those concubines instead of her. Choosing them over her.

"I told you, there is no one but you."

The look of confusion in her eyes seemed to make Geta smile which confused (Y/n) even more.

"I dismissed them after our engagement. The only women of that kind are the ones Caracalla keeps company with. If I must tell you every day that you're the only woman I want, then so be it."

(Y/n) couldn't quite bring herself to comprehend those words. Had he truly dismissed his concubines? Had he done that for her?

He didn't have to, he was the Emperor, he had every right to have those women around him if he so wished. No one could tell him otherwise or question him and none of the men on his council would bat an eyelid about him having those women around or him seeking their company.

After all, Caracalla took a lot of his women everywhere with him and Geta had taken a few to gatherings and parties when he wanted their company. It wasn't something any of them were ashamed of.

She could feel tears welling up in her eyes as his words finally seemed to sink in. Geta wanted her and clearly loved her enough to give himself to her and her alone. He was doing the same as she was. Giving themselves to each other, devoting to only one another. Even during the point in the future where they would have to abstain if (Y/n) got pregnant, Geta was going to devote himself to her and not go with another woman.

Every worry she previously had about tonight and their future had diminished in a matter of minutes.

She took Geta by surprise when she pushed up against his chest and cupped his face in her palms so she could reel him down into a searing kiss. The touch was so surprising that their teeth clashed together and (Y/n) felt Geta groaning against her lips as he slammed his palm down into the mattress before he fell down onto her and crushed her beneath him.

The touch was much appreciated as Geta's other hand squeezed her hip until his fingertips were leaving imprints and bruises in his wake and it felt like they were about to burst through her flesh and press against the bone. But (Y/n) didn't mind. If anything, she welcomed the touch.

She kissed him until the breathlessness made her head spin and she had to drop her head back down onto the pillow, tugging Geta with her until he was practically lying fully on top of her.

The smile that blessed his face was one that made (Y/n)'s stomach flip and she shuddered beneath him, tracing her thumb along the edge of his mouth.

"I'm rather touched you're so concerned with taking care of me, dear wife. That isn't something that happens too often."

There was a whimsical look in Geta's eyes as he spoke and thought about her concern. He was inwardly thrilled that (Y/n) clearly wanted to please him just as much as he wanted to please her and make her happy and take care of her. It wasn't usually like this. It was typically Geta taking care of others; dealing with Rome and her problems and victories. And he was the one who cared for Caracalla.

He watched over his twin, he calmed him when he was enraged and in his awful moods. He soothed him when he was panicked or frightened or when he was drained and didn't feel he could move at all. And when Caracalla was hyper Geta tried to steer him and guide him. He did all he could to protect his brother and it would be the same with (Y/n) too, he would protect and love her with his life.

But it made such a lovely change to have someone else caring for Geta, for a change.

"Now," His words hushed against her lips as a devilish grin spread across his features and he dove down to steal a kiss. "Let me take care of you."

***

The streaks of sunlight that blistered through the drapes cast a hazy orange glow around the room. It seemed to light up every corner and illuminate the room as if (Y/n) had woken up and found herself trapped in a painting with all its brightness and shimmering golden hues.

It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust and for her mind to catch up and work out where she was, for this wasn't her room.

Or rather, it was, but it was new. It was what had now become her room, like something out of a fantasy.

A grin spread across her lips at the mere thought and she tiredly lifted her head from the pillow to look around. She couldn't guess what time it was and she wasn't sure what time Geta usually rose, but she figured it would be early. Not today, though. Not for the next three days, in fact, as Geta had made sure there were no plans or meetings that would tear him away from his wife.

Twisting from her side onto her back, (Y/n) looked across at Geta. He was still sleeping.

He looked peaceful when he slept, like every worry had been washed away and he could finally relax. There were no tense muscles, no tightened jaw or clenched fists or angered shouts when no one listened to him or heeded his words and advice. He looked serene.

(Y/n) couldn't help herself. She had to turn to lay on her front and slowly inch closer to him. She knew he wouldn't mind.

Her chin gingerly settled on his shoulder and she delicately looped her arm over his exposed torso so she was nestled up into his side with her chest pressing on his side.

The room felt oddly warm, considering the windows were partially opened and the sheets were tangled near the bottom of the bed. Only one sheet remained over their entwined bodies and it was wrangled around their legs and draped very low over Geta's abdomen and across (Y/n)'s mid section. She was half covered, but it wasn't as if there was any indecency when no one would be walking in to interrupt them anytime soon.

She began tracing the pad of her finger across his pale skin, noticing the few tiny scars he had near his collar bone and the odd ones that littered his chest. He'd either run in with a few accidents as a child or had been on the wrong end of a sword during training. Perhaps it had been his father; (Y/n) knew his father had been less than kind to the twins when they were growing up. And to shield Caracalla, Geta had taken most of the torment they suffered.

She would make it her mission to note down every mole, every scar and freckle that painted his porcelain skin.

Her fingers continued to dance their path along his skin while she tilted her head down and pressed a few fluttering, soft kisses along his shoulder and up the side of his neck.

She thought he was still asleep until she realised his lips had quirked into a grin, despite his eyes remaining closed and the rest of his body staying frozen to trick her. So he could lay quietly and see what she was up to.

"Morning," (Y/n) murmured softly between hollow kisses along the side of his neck that made Geta visibly shiver and he finally broke out of his frozen state.

He slid his arm beneath her waist, hooked his hand over her hip and reeled her in closer while he flopped his head to the side and peeked his eyes open. His nose scrunched up when he smiled and he tiredly reached his other hand across until his fingers could run through her hair.

He had removed all the pins and flowers from her hair last night and now each strand was knotted and tangled up in a beautiful mess. Geta was sure his own hair didn't look much better, it would likely be stuck up in every direction by now after they had stayed up well into the early morning.

His fingers tangled in her hair and he slowly brushed a few loose tendrils behind her ear whilst gliding his knuckles along her soft cheek. His hand curved around to duck beneath her chin and he angled her head down so he didn't have to move as far to kiss her.

He was sure her kisses amounted to the same intoxication as opium. Too many kisses would make him drunk; and that was exactly the state Geta wanted to feel for the rest of his life.

"What are you thinking?" (Y/n) wasn't sure he heard her with how quiet her voice came out, but the hazy look in his eyes and the smile that pulled on his lips showed that he had.

"That I could get used to a view like this every morning."

His smile could rival even the most beautiful of sunsets and he finally pushed up so he could capture her lips with his for a deeper kiss that allowed him to snatch every ounce of air from her lungs.

This was how Geta wanted to wake up every morning from here on out, and this was exactly the future that was install for them both.

[russellsppttemplates]

All the milestones (Lando Norris)

Fraser came earthside earlier than you expected

Note: english is not my first language. Believe it or not, I'm also a preemie (genetically and health wise, I am a catch, I know). Jokes aside as this is a serious topic, I was born at thirty three weeks because of some complications and it all turned out well, but I am aware of what it entailed from people telling me and it isn't something I've seen around here! Knowing that the diversity I write brings comfort to read and to ask this warms my heart up so much 🫶 I'm also basing this off of my mum's experience!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions c-section and themes related to hospital stays and procedures, prematurity, pre-eclampsia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"I'm really sorry I can't go with you, darling", Lando apoligised as he set the plate with lunch in front of you, "it's okay, it's just an ultrasound", you responded, "we're just going to check if everything is alright with you, right, little one?", you tapped your babybump softly. At thirty weeks pregnant, you were starting to feel the tiredness and aches like you had felt in your previous pregnancy, only now you had a toddler to look after as well, so you had been taking it easy. Fortunately, you were able to juggle work and family life in a way that allowed you to make the minimum compromise to both spheres of your life.

"Drink your water, baby", Lando reminded you, tapping the jug, "I'm going to pick up my dad from the airport and then we'll both get Tilly. Are you feeling like going out for dinner or should I get take out and we eat here?", he questioned, taking a bite of his food.

"I'd prefer to stay in", you stated, "are you feeling like anything special?", he asked back.

"Right now I can't think of anything", you offered, not really looking forward to eating the delicious food in front of you if you were really being honest. Still, you manage to eat the most of it.

"Have a good meeting, Lan, I love you", you said as you put your coat on, grabbing your bag with all your documents.

"Be safe, okay, baby?", he checked, kissing the top of your head and then kissing your baby bump, "and you too, buddy, keep yourself and mummy safe and sound, don't give her too much trouble", he said, helping you out of the door before you went on your separate ways, "I love you, gorgeous mummy!", he winked before he got inside his car.

Once you arrived at the hospital and checked yourself in, your midwife Amelia greeted you in the examination room, "how have you been feeling, Y/N?", she asked as she slipped the bad on your arm to get your blood pressure numbers, sending the urine sample to the lab.

"I've been feeling a little tired, especially compared to last time, which I can only put down to having Tilly, and she's a very calm child", you giggled, remaining quiet as the machine got your numbers.

"These look quite high, did you run up here?", she asked, "no, I got here earlier than I expected actually, I've been sitting on the waiting room for a bit", you scrunched your face.

"We'll just wait for your results and then we'll see if it's something we have to wordy about", she tranquilized, "let's see you baby boy, shall we?", she smiled as you lifted your shirt, letting her apply the cream and move the wand around.

"There's your son, Y/N", she smiled, "He's a bit quiet, but the heartbeat sounds good", she smiled, taking a few more pictures so you could bring them home for Lando and Matilda to see.

A knock on the door alerted you both as Amelia was taking your measurements, "I have the results for Y/N Y/L/N-Norris", your OB checked, seeing you in the room, "Hi, Y/N, I thought I'd only see you later", she said as she walked in. She pulled on a stool and sat on it, "your results are indicating that you might be in pre-eclampsia", she said as she showed the tablet's screen to Amelia, her stern expression confirming your suspicions on how serious the situation was, "your body is having trouble keeping up with everything, hence your high blood pressure and your urine results suggest your kidneys are working overtime as well", Dr. Martin said as you straightened up, hands coming to wrap around your baby bump protectively, "your baby is fine, so that's not a big worry, but we do think it would be best if we delivered him tonight", she advised.

"But he's too small", you argued.

"You're at thirty weeks, which isn't ideal, but the survival rate is very very high for babies born at this time, and we also have a team that is specialised in preemie care, so he will be in the best hands", she comforted, "we need to give you corticosteroids to make sure the baby's lungs are ready for when he comes earthside, we'll get you admitted and monitor you and the baby to make sure he's not struggling either. In a few days, depending on how this goes, we'll do a c-section. I know it's not ideal, but this is the best way to make sure you and baby boy stay safe".

Sighing, you nodded, "okay, whatever is best for both of us", you asserted, "I just need to call Lando - my father in-law is coming to stay for a bit and they're getting Matilda from school", you thought out loud.

"Absolutely, dear, everything is going to be just fine", Amelia conforted while Dr. Martin set you up to go to a room.

Lando helped Matilda up to her car seat, strapping her in as she spoke to his father, "and did you have a good day, princess?", Adam asked, "yes, we coloured lots and we saw a couple of butterflies when we were having our snack!", she smiled as Lando drove home.

The car system alerted them of a call from you, "hey, beautiful, I'm in the car with my father and Tilly - say hi to mummy, babygirl!", he encouraged, "Hi, mummy!", she cheered, "Hey Y/N", Adam greeted too.

"Hey, guys! Lando, can you give the phone to your dad, please?", you asked, "sure, love", he said as he disconnected the phone from the car, nodding his father to take the phone in the console.

"Hey, Y/N, is everything alright?", Adam asked over the phone, "Hey, Adam, I hope you travelled well! I'm not sure if Lando told you, but I had an appointment today, and it turns out I have to be admitted", you began, "I don't want to worry him, much less when he's driving, so as soon as you get home, can you tell him to call me back again, please? Baby Fraser might join us sooner than we expected", you mumbled, nerves obvious in your voice as Adam stayed with a neutral face.

"Absolutely, Y/N, I'll let him know", he said before hanging up.

"What was it? Is everything alright?", Lando asked, knowing there would be a reason as to why you didn't want to have everyone listening to the conversation.

Checking the rearview mirror to see Matilda playing with one of her books, Adam clarified Lando, "she is going to stay at the hospital for a little longer than she expected for some check ups, she didn't want Matilda to hear about it", he said. It wasn't too much of a lie, and he certainly didn't want to scare anyone and since Lando would be calling you anyway, it could wait for a bit, "she asked you to call her when you got home. Don't worry, I'll keep Matilda entertained", he smiled.

Once they arrived, Adam left his things in the guest bedroom and met Matilda in the kuchen, "grandpa will make you some snacks. What do you want, darling?", he asked as he urged Lando to go and make a call to you.

"Hi, baby", Lando said as you picked up, "dad said you wanted me to call you, is everything alright?", he asked as he stepped inside the bedroom, hanging his coat in the closet.

"Hi, my love", you sighed and sending Lando into alert, "when they did my check up, Amelia took my blood pressure and it was really high, and my urine sample didn't look great either. It turns out I'm in pre-eclampsia and they want to keep me for observation, and it's likely Fraser will join us in the next few days", you added, "I need you here -, and things for me", you let out.

"Are you okay? I'll start packing right away", he said as he put his phone on speaker, looking for pyjamas and toiletries.

"My blood pressure is high - so far there's no distress for the baby, and they want to keep him in for as long as they can", you explained, "I, I am fine staying here on my own, that's okay, but I really need you here for a bit", you asked, "of course, my love. I'm going to pack these up quick and I'll be there. I love you", he said before you said it back, putting his phone in his pocket and zipping the bag.

"Daddy, where are you going?", Matilda asked as she saw the bag, "princess, mummy is going to stay in the hospital for a bit so the doctors can make sure her and baby are okay, and daddy is going to take a few things for her", he announced, crouching down so he was at her level.

"Is mummy sick?", she pouted, "she's a little tired, so they're going to make sure she rests up as much as she can", he slipped out, "I'm going to be there for a little bit to giver her her pyjamas so she's comfy, and then I'll be right back, okay? Can you stay here with grandpa?", he asked.

"Okay, daddy", she said before walking away, "but wait!", she called from the hall.

"I'll get dinner started and tuck her in if it gets too late - she didn't want me to tell you until you were home", he apoligised, "I know, I know, thanks for being here, it was bloody good timing", Lando mused.

Matilda came back with one of her stuffed toys, a McLaren bear she loved, "this is for mummy, so she doesn't sleep alone", she smiled sweetly. Maybe her innocence was positive because it meant she was dealing with the situation quite well.

"I'll give it to mummy, baby girl, I bet she'll love it", he smiled, kissing her cheek and leaving to the garage so he could drive to the hospital.

When he arrived, Amelia walked up with him as she told you all there was to know, knocking on your room door before they stepped inside.

"Darling", he said, setting the bag down and sitting next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead protectively, "how are you?", he asked.

"Fine, although I don't think it has really sunk in", you mumbled, playing with his fingers, "how is Tilly?", you wondered.

"She gave you Mr. Brown", he said as he fished out the bear from the bag, "she said she wanted you to have it so you wouldn't be alone in here", he smiled.

After spending as much time as he could with you, he bid you goodbye and went home, finding his father washing up the dishes as Matilda got her pyjamas on for the night, "I have a tupperware for you in the fridge if you want something to eat".

"Thanks, I've got it from here though - c'mon, little miss, we're going to sleep!", Lando hoisted her up, holding her on his hip as they walked upstairs to the bedroom, "can I sleep in your bed, daddy?", Matilda spoke in a small voice, "I don't want you to be alone either", she admitted.

Smiling at her sweetness, he nodded, "of course you can, love. Mummy sent her goodnight wishes for you, and maybe we can visit her tomorrow, how does that sound?", he smiled, "yes, please, daddy!".

.

"I made these for you, mummy, so your room is nice and colourful!", Matilda smiled as Lando let you in for a cuddle, your little girl getting help from her grandfather at ripping the tape so she could display her drawings she brought you almost daily, only missing days where Landk hadn't been able to bring her to the hospital because of their schedules.

"That's beautiful, darling, thank you so much", you gushed before turning to Lando, "has she cried again?", you whispered. You had been in the hospital for five days now, and two nights ago Matilda started with what was a tantrum at first and then evolved to crying about the fact that you weren't home. Lando was able to talk it out with her, welcoming her and allowing her to talk about how she was feeling and how it was beyond the fact that her tights were itching her.

"No, yesterday she told me she couldn't wait for you to come home, and that you were taking longer than she liked", he snickered, "always little miss rushing when it comes to you", he kissed the side of your head. Even though she was a daddy's girl through and through, she never made you feel left out.

"Y/N", Dr. Martin called after she stepped inside the room, "Oh, Matilda, you're so grown up already! Time flies by", she said as she waved at your little girl while Adam pulled her to sit on his lap, whispering "That's mummy's doctor, she is going to check up on her so you have to keep quiet, okay?" into her ear.

"I was checking your results, and I think between tonight and tomorrow, we might have to deliver your baby boy", she stated, everyone in the room straightening up as Matilda tried to read the adults' faces.

"His lungs look really good in the ultrasound we did this morning - as you know those were our biggest concerns, so we'll come up to monitor you, okay?", she rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before excusing herself.

"Well, I think it's best if we get going, then", Adam said as he got up, coming up to kiss the top of your head and squeeze your hand in his.

"Mummy, I know you're going to do very well", she said, earning small giggles around the room, "when can I come and meet the baby?", she stepped up to give you a kiss.

"We will have to see how it all goes, princess, but when you can, you'll be the first to come, okay?", you smiled, brushing the curls out of her eyes and kissing her head.

"I'll drop these guys home, get the baby bag and then I'll be back", Lando said, kissing your lips and your baby bump, "you stay in there for just a little longer, okay buddy?".

By the time Lando got back to the hospital, you had already been given a few medications to prep you for the c-section, "Kelly and Max advised that I shopped for some smaller clothes, so I have those in there", he tapped the baby bag, "and how are you feeling?", he cupped your cheek.

"My blood pressure is really high, so they're thinking about putting me under, like, full body anesthesia", you bit your lip. Getting surgery was already a big thing, but being completely under was another.

"Oh, okay", Lando gulped, "they won't let me be in there then", he realised, "that's not how we wanted this to happen, but it's going to be okay, gorgeous. You're the strongest woman I know, you're going to be just fine", he smiled, "and our baby boy will come out screaming and he will be the strongest little one ever", he said, trying to convince you and himself of his words. He was scared too, but it wouldn't do you both any good to dwell on it too much.

Knocking on the door, one of the lovely interns and Amelia came to get you, "are we all ready? I'm afraid you already know this, Lando, but you won't, be able to be with us in the OR", she apoligised, "I'll wait right here, if that's okay", your husband suggested, kissing you one last time before they wheeled you off, "I love you, Y/N", he muttered against your lips.

While he waited, he looked at the drawings in the room with precise attention, finding one where Matilda drew the four of you, her brother in your arms and Lando holding her hand, names scribbled under each person in Adam's writing.

Less than an hour later, Amelia stepped into the room, Lando getting up from his spot on the chair immediately, "everything went well, they were weaning Y/N off of the anesthesia, she's going to the PACU until she wakes up and then back here", she smiled, "your little boy is in the neonatal unit, do you want to come and meet him?", she asked, Lando letting out a sigh of relief at her words, "I'll let you know when Y/N comes back to the room", she ensured, having been in the job long enough to know the dilemma of wanting to be in two places at the same time.

"Yes, let's go", he said as he straightened up his sweater, "can I hug you?", he allowed himself to feel emotional, Amelia's open arms offering him a little comfort, "they're both alright, Lando, you have such a beautiful family", she cooed.

Walking with him to the neonatal care unit, she helped him into one of the gowns as they greeted the other parents inside along with all of the staff, "this is your little boy", she said, offering him a sanitizer for his hands, "he can't eat on his own just yet, so that single tube on his nose is feeding him, the other one is giving him oxygen, and those stickers are to make sure his heart is doing okay - little milestones and little victories", she explained as Lando took him in.

Surely, he was much smaller than Matilda, but he could already spot some similarities, "Can I touch him?", he asked, weary of disturbing the perfectly architected environment inside the incubator, "yes, of course! Just be mindful of the wires and tubes", she encouraged, opening the little doors so Lando could touch your son.

"Hey, buddy", he spoke as he touched his tiny fingers, "you're already such a fighter, breathing so well without ventilation", he cooed. He looked up all the complications and when he didn't see a mechanical ventilator, he couldn't help but feel proud of the baby, "he is, we did all the tests and for now supplemental oxygen seems to be enough", Dr. Martin said softly, not wanting to spook them as she showed up, "everything went well with Y/N, she should make a full recovery once it heals", she rubbed his back.

"Thank you", he said, keeping the tears at bay as he looked back at Fraser, "you're so tiny they had to roll up your diaper, hm little love?", he spoke, "there are so many people who love you and they have so much of it to give you".

A little while later, Amelia told him they were taking you up to your room, so Lando said goodbye to Fraser, "I'm going to see mummy, Fraser, and I'm going to tell her how much of a higher you are, I love you", he cooed one last time, rubbing his arm before taking his hands away, closing the little doors and folding the gown for later.

Walking into the corridor to your room, Lando could spot you in the other end, smiling as you spotted him too, "nearly beat you in this race", you smiled at him as he gestured for them to wheel you into the room, "everything went as expected, Dr. Martin will be up shortly to speak to you two", one of the interns said.

"How are you feeling, gorgeous?", he said, brushing your hair away from your eyes and behind your ears, "I'm fine, the meds are helping with the pain, I'm sure", you giggled, "they gave me a good dose".

"That's nice, at least", he said, "I've texted everyone to let them know you were okay and everything went well", he added.

"Have you seen him yet?", you asked, "yes, I have", Lando beamed, "He's very tiny and he looks a little bit like Tilly already. And he's such a fighter, too! He only had those little pin-like tubes to help him breathe, they didn't need any incisions or anything. I would've taken a picture but I couldn't take my hands away from him", he admitted.

"Hopefully soon I can see him", you gulped, knowing it would off the books for a bit since you had abdominal surgery.

"All in due course, baby. I'm so happy you're both fine", he kissed your forehead.

.

"I just want to hold my baby!", you hiccuped, wiping the tears falling on your cheeks while Amelia conforted you, "just one more day, Y/N, maybe two at maximum to make sure you're healing well, too", she smiled apologetically.

A knock on the door alerted you as Lando and Matilda walked inside, making you wipe your cheeks quickly, "mummy!", she cheered softly, approaching you and climbing on the bed softly since she knew you were healing, "have you been crying, mummy?", she said, hugging your arm and resting her head there.

"Mummy is upset because I can't go and see Fraser today", you explained as Lando kissed the top of your head.

Amelia excused herself as you caught up with everything back home, "grandpa asked me to give you kisses", Matilda recalled as she kissed your cheeks, "his plane has landed alresdy", Lando added, "That's nice of him, thank you darling".

"We can go and meet Fraser, Tilly", Lando said as the window they allowed visitors in was coming to the half-time mark, "I'm going to give him loads of kisses from you mummy, don't worry about it!", your daughter said sweetly as she climbed off the bed, "I'm going to try and FaceTime, okay?", Lando confirmed, handing you your phone before they left for the neonatal unit.

"Matilda, darling, you have to put this on, okay?", one of the nurses gave her a mask, "she's in nursery and she might have caught some bug that isn't showing symptoms yet and it could be harmful for the babies", he checked with Lando as your husband nodded.

"It's like a costume, Tilly!", Lando tried to make it fun for her, adjusting the gown and then the mask around her face, "you can't go around touching things, okay princess?", he stated as she nodded, ready to meet her little brother.

Lando got himself gowned and led them to Fraser's incubator, "that is Fraser, baby", he cooed, typing on his phone inside the clear bag and FaceTiming you like he promised so you too could see the moment they met for the first time.

"He's so tiny", she gasped, standing on the stepping stool so she could see him properly, "I can't kiss him, can I?", she asked and Lando shook his head, watching you smile on the screen, "I'm going to blow him the kisses I have from mummy then", she said, her hand making the movements from her covered mouth to her brother, "I love you, Fraser, and mummy loves you too, she can't be getting because her tummy still hurts a little", she told him.

"This just makes you want to have another right away, doesn't it?", Lando croaked out as he wiped a tear from his eye, your wide eyes looking at him, "not anywhere in the near future - my body knows that much!", you giggled at the soft sight, "but it is incredibly cute, yes", you smiled as tears fell on your cheeks too.

"Look, mummy! He moved his hand, he's saying hello to you", Matilda smiled, "He's saying he wants to see you, too!".

.

You were finally able to stand up and sit in a wheelchair, so your other goal for the day was going to see your son.

Amelia was the first to say she would take you, helping you sit and getting you there, "That's your little boy right there", she pointed as you were filled with giddiness and excitement.

Wheeling you to face plastic bassinet, your hand went straight inside, "he doesn't need oxygen anymore?", you asked his doctor, noticing the single tube you recognised as a feeding tube, "no, not anymore", he said, "we ran some tests this morning and he's doing just fine on his own, strong set of lungs he has! He woke two of the other babies up yesterday", he smiled.

Chuckling, you touched his arm softly, his hands opening and closing, "do you want to hold him?", he asked, catching you by surprise. Until now, no one ever held him as to make sure the treatments being done were working as best as they could.

"Can I?", you asked, eyes hopeful, "me and the rest of the team think he's finally strong enough to move out of here actually", he added, "not enough to go home just yet, but he can be in your room. This way you can have him close to you and of anything happens or you need help, the staff in your floor know what to do. He just needs to be able to feed without a pump, so either breastfeeding or bottle feeding", he stated.

"Wow, okay, I wasn't expecting this, I was so happy that I got to see him", you teared up, bringing your arms to position so the doctor could place your baby in your arms, mindful of the feeding tube that was still in him, "hey, my love", you cooed, touching his cheeks, "I'm your mummy. I know you were rushed out of my tummy, and it was scary for both of us, but it's looking up now", you cried, Amelia wiping your cheeks as she smiled too.

"Do you mind if we take his tube out now? Might be a little better for this little guy to be in his mummy's chest", the doctor suggested, getting the supplies he needed and setting them in the tray.

"It's okay, little guy", he said as he pulled it out, baby Fraser crying at the discomfort you could only imagine as you rubbed his back, "it's okay, my love, mummy's here to make it better", you shushed him, kissing his head multiple times.

"There, all done!", the doctor said, "if you want, you can feed him here or in your room, where you feel best", he wondered, "could we go to the room, please? I have my supplies there, too", you asked.

You had been pumping milk out since it came in, and you were finally able to feed him straight from your nipple, "okay, little one, you can't get lazy on us now that mummy has you in her room", Amelia encouraged, tapping his cheek slightly as he began suckling on your nipple, "there we go!", she cheered, "I told you it would get better, didn't I?", she winked at you.

When Lando and Matilda came for their daily visit, they didn't expect to see you walking around the room, your back facing the door, "you're up, mummy, that's good!", your daughter said as you turned around, showing her brother on your chest, "oh", she gasped.

"He passed all his tests, and he's getting chubby too", you cooed, squishing his thigh softly as Lando took the sight in, Matilda holding onto you as you patted her head and held your son. Your family was complete.

"That's daddy, Fraser", you cooed, pointing at Lando as your baby boy looked around to the two new people in the room.

"Can I have a cuddle?", Lando whispered before you transferred Fraser to his arms, your little boy curling up against him just like he had been curled up to you.

"Does this mean you get to go home?", Matilda asked, hugging you properly as you sat down on the bed with her, "not for a few days still, they just need to make sure Fraser is alright", you informed, "then we can go home and the four of us are going to have loads of fun", you smiled.

.

"Tilly, can you help me here, please?", Lando called as her footsteps approached your bedroom, "can you get me that bedding from the drawer, please?", Lando asked as he held the mattres up, not wanting to miss the exact placement of the sheet, "thank you, baby, you're such a clever girl", he complimented, folding the corner in and letting the mattress fall back into place.

"When mummy comes home tonight, is Fraser coming with her?", she wondered, touching the next to me bassinet you kept in your room for the baby to sleep in the first few months, "yes, he is, he's finally good and big enough to come home, no more hospital visits", Lando sighed. The last couple of weeks were hard. Juggling things on his own made him even more appreciative of you and the efforts you made to make sure everything was smoothly running in the house, as well of your friends and family who suported your family in every way they could.

"That's going to be nice, the hospital smells funny", she scrunched up her nose, "and it's going to be like before but with baby Fraser?", she wondered.

"At first mummy will need our help in many things - she still has some recovery to do, but then it will be back to normal, yes", Lando offered, "and we'll have Fraser to go with us in our adventures".

"I can't wait to show him my soft blankets and my toys", she beamed, helping Lando with the bed and then getting ready to pick you up from the hospital.

"Thank you again for all of your work and dedication, we truly can't say it enough for all you've done for our family", Lando said to the team as they discharged you from the hospital, waving at Fraser in his carrier as he looked around.

By the time the four of you were back home, you ate dinner on the sofa, Matilda cuddled up to your side while Fraser slept in your chest, Lando holding the four of you in his embrace as much a she could, "we're finally all together", you smiled, "the Norris family is all together in one place we it should be", he said, kissing your lips softly, hand coming to rest on top of yours in Fraser's back as Matilda smiled up at you, "this is the best day ever", she murmured.

Post partum blurb

[edgeray]

Ray! 🍅 anon here, I said I wasn't going to request but there's one idea I've been really, REALLY itching at.

So you know how you reblogged "cold nights" by beiibeii? Yeah about that... I think I cooked an angst idea of this on a related tangent? (If you choose to write this, ofc)

How about Mother!Reader who is faced with the same scenario of Arle neglecting them to the point that she loses hope in their relationship? Think of the angst when the children constantly remind their Father of important dates but she's away or somehow missing most of them because of work. To the point reader just implies for them to stop trying and accepts the fact that they married Arlecchino but is now simply the Knave's wife? Like even the children can see them losing hope which is why they sometimes lowkey plead with their Father to actually pay more attention to Mother. Mother marrying Father means that Mother is strong but behind their strong facade you can see their sadness! You can feel their loneliness! And their sense of isolation and sorrowful acceptance of their new reality. And Arle does not pick up on the subtle signs until it's Too Late. Like. Reader in the coffin Late.

And as the Knave's wife Reader does need to undertake missions like in "I am Fine in Your Arms" but because reader has lost so much hope in living a wife outside of being the Knave's wife, reader does not make an effort to return alive. The angst of the burial, maybe the children blaming their Father etc. The really young ones aside, I don't think they would be actively angry with their Father, just very, VERY, disappointed. HotH would lose its warmth for a while before Lyney, Lynette and Freminet try their best to build it back (but of course, it never becomes as warm as it used to be)

Whether or not you choose to give this one a happy ending is up to you, but on my end the only happy ending that I cooked up for them is that Arle wakes up in the next Samsara with all these memories of losing Reader and prevents the relationship from going South in the first place. (Bonus points if Reader also has the memories and compares it to how they were treated by Arle previously, makes a comparison, and goes "How I wish this were my Arle" without knowing that it actually IS their Arle, just acknowledging she fucked up BIG time and is now making heavy amends for it. and Arle Knows because of that look that Reader gives her, sorrow and joy in a complex blend.)

...I think by now you can tell that I'm an angst writer too HAHSHHSHA Nobody leaves my fics without getting a knife and I promise it's just for the plot (like we always say).

I've still been keeping up with your writings (Beauty and The Beast actually fits, holy-) (Someone send Siren!Arle a whole farmhouse of ham for her consumption please) and yes I agree that you've been pumping out bangers after bangers. (I mean. Given that, you probably can afford to be a little indulgent? If writing this much quality about your muse doesn't give you the OK to put your hands all over them, abs and all, what does?)

As always, prioritise your sanity and schedule first, stay well rested and hydrated!

Lost Warmth

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N -  Link to my momma's (@beiibeiii) piece right here. If I see you read this before reading the masterpiece I just linked, know that I am a very disappointed axolotl. 😔  Anyways, you might be able to tell just how long this has been sitting in my inbox… haha… my bad guys. T^T. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write more angst. :3 And thank you for the additional comments 🍅 anon. I do have quite a soft spot for siren! arle, seeing that she was my first request (and requested from my momma :3). Wanted this to be a little longer, but I do have to wake up earlier tomorrow, so this is what you get T^T. Hopefully it's still good. Content warnings / info - angst, character death (duh), reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise GN!, 1.4k words

Cold is a feeling you've long gotten used to. Cold is your husband's dismissal of your existence, with every interaction ending with her blunt words and back towards you, leaving you with a crumbling heart. Cold are the long nights as you anxiously wait for Arlecchino's appearance for a candlelit dinner you spent half the day preparing, only for her never to return until you fell to exhaustion on the couch, a flower bouquet that remains unreceived in your hands. Cold is the creeping loneliness in the late hours of the night, when you've finally grown tired of anticipating someone that will never come, and returned to bed alone. Cold is the way you shiver underneath the thickest of blankets, no one's body warmth to sink into, no one's softly whispered words into your ear to drift you to sleep. Cold is when instead of your husband, only dim stars, a bottle of liquor, and the tears that stream your face join you in bed.

When was the last time you had felt warmth? 

You recall when the Knave first started courting you, how gentlemanly she was for such a rumored cruel Harbinger. You were first just a caretaker of the House of the Hearth, this small orphanage which you quickly found to be home for you. You couldn't help but adore the endearing children, watching as you slowly became a staple in this family. Despite your best efforts of hiding it, Arlecchino noticed when you snuck in the occasional pastry or cake from the town's most lavious bakery for the children, out of your own paycheck as well. It was then, your husband admitted, when she first fell for you. It had taken her months of encouragement from her ‘pestering’ children before she asked you out, and it was impossible to not fall for her charm.

How could you not? Not when she held you like you were her world. Not when she viewed you higher than the Tsaritsa herself. Not when her touch was heavenly, her words silky and sweet. When she proposed to you, your heart leapt with levity, and you thought your life was perfect now. A warm house, fitted with warm parents, that was what you had had, you had never felt so content. 

Then came the long nights. Nights when she trudged home later than usual, where she fell asleep without a word but sunk into your arms still. Then she started forgetting, forgetting about the dates and birthdays, and anniversaries more and more. At first, you chalked it up to her demanding Harbinger duties, but as time grew and the excuses started to run out, the perfect life you knew was crumbling. 

You became aware of this two years after your marriage when you had been preparing dinner for the two of you once she arrived home, slow cooking a steak since the early hours of the morning. Just as you exited the kitchen, you heard some children surrounding your husband before she left for another Harbinger meeting, telling her that you had a surprise for her once she came home and how excited you were for her to enjoy a new recipe you created. Your heart swelled with hope and appreciation for your children, especially when Arlecchino promised she would return in time. 

You should have known better.

You ate your tear-ridden steak alone and went to bed, leaving the steak out for her for whenever she returned home. Just like how you fell asleep, you woke up without your husband's presence, and when you arrived at the kitchen, the meat and the note besides the plate were untouched. 

You tried to eat the cold steak for lunch as well. You threw it away at the first bite. That day, you gathered your children, pleading them not to ‘pester’ Father with more reminders, as she was very busy. All that you gained back from the children was pitied expressions, and the agony in your chest worsened. Your children could pity you, but your husband couldn't? Even with your husband's coldness, you still carried out your Mother role, if only for the children. You cannot deny that the children's antics helped you forget the ever-present void inside you, caused by Arlecchino. 

You never learned the reason for Arlecchino's behavior, why she had grown so cold towards you. Now, you suppose, you would never know.  

Red fills your hazy vision as you lay on the ground, your entire body aching and fatigued, desperate gasps for air while your heart pounds in your eardrums. Your side was sliced, and the crimson liquid quickly poured out of the wound while you tried to stop the bleeding, but to no avail. 

This is your end, you think to yourself as you weakly turn on your side, every nerve in your body protesting against the movement. Your bloodied hand comes into view, your engagement and wedding ring gleaming slightly underneath the blood. The rings bring your thoughts to Arlecchino–oh, how you imagine the common disappointment in her otherwise apathetic expression, disappointment at your mission's failure. Your eyes bubbled and blurred with tears, vivid memories of your wedding flashing through your mind. The wedding ring is beautiful, still polished with that bold scarlet, the same color of her eyes, the same eyes you could never stop drowning in.

Would she even know your absence? Would she ever acknowledge you, treat you properly like her partner even if you did return? You doubt it. Did you want to return a cold bed, to a husband that does not love you, to a house no longer warm? 

It's warm. 

Your body feels like fire courses through your veins as you feel inexplicably hot, yet it's a welcomed heat. It's the first time you've felt this, but it feels familiar, comforting, like a hearth, and you want nothing more than to surrender to it. It soothes your heartbeat and calms your breath, easing your body as if you were to sink into the most plush of beds, swallowed by the thickest of blankets. The warmth coils around you, wrapping you like a cozy embrace, evoking you to sleep. Your eyes flutter shutter, a faint smile plastered on your lips.

It feels just like Peruere's arms. 

— 

Arlecchino receives a letter addressed to her on the third day you've been sent on a mission. The contents make her drop the paper, and she rushes outside, without an additional word, leaving the House. 

The children do not see her until she returns late into the night, a body wrapped in cloth in her arms. Arlecchino raised her children to be smart, to be attentive, to be logical. Whose body it is, they realize with little difficulty. 

The children weep that night. Arlecchino does not. How can she, when her source of emotions is gone? 

The burial takes place soon afterwards. As your body is placed into the ground, Arlecchino can feel the weight of her children's stare on her back. The charged tension between her and the children is palpable without words. She cannot discern which of the two reactions cut deeper. The seething fury underneath the oppressive grief for the young ones, having to lose another parent, or the crushing dismay inhabited by the older ones, specifically the twins and Freminet. 

Their thoughts are clear, even when none of them speak out loud. 

How could you fail Mother?

The House of the Hearth no longer suits the orphanage's name, not with your missing presence. There is no warmth, no matter how much the trio tries to fuel a lost flame. Even with Arlecchin's pyro vision, it is futile.

Arlecchino stands before your gravestone, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hand, and she rests it beside the other bouquets by your grave. Six bouquets in total, for each day after your burial. 

“For all the flowers, I should have given you, my love,” she whispers as she addresses you, glancing up to the heavens. The last two words make her feel like a fraud, undeserving of calling you hers, when she had clearly never shown so. 

Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fatui Harbinger, does not plead, does not beg, does not kneel. However, her knees drop to her dirt, and she grovels. “Please… wait for me one more time, my dear. Once I meet you again, I promise I'll never leave you alone, I'll never let you out of my arms again.”

There is no reply. 

Arlecchino feels cold. 

[hexb0nes]

THE BIRTH OF THE CELESTIAL REALM — A VIKTOR X PLUS-SIZED!READER SMUT FIC

word count: 5k

contains the following: nsfw (duh), unbalanced power dynamics (viktor’s technically your superior, even though you’re jayce’s personal assistant), one-off mention of breast milk (relating to the painting viktor sees in the art museum), some brief fatphobia, praise, mild degradation (the use of the word ‘slut’), wardrobe malfunction, viktor pops a boner, somewhat public sex (you and viktor are in a bathroom), primal!viktor go brrrr (horny takes over and he fucks the shit out of you), make out session, clothes get ripped off, titty sucking, dom!viktor, sub!reader, reader is fem but you can ignore the pronouns if need be, blowjob, deepthroating, facefucking, facesitting, pussy eating champ!viktor, czech terms of endearment, viktor got that casanova in him, minor breath play?, too many uses of pussy/cunt/dick/cunt but you’ll never catch author using ‘manhood’ or ‘puss’ as replacements, doggy style, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, and a surprise post-credit scene at the end ;3

summary: viktor was never a fan of art. however, he decides to give it a shot after failing to solve a series of seemingly impossible equations by visiting the grand museum of art in piltover… only for a glimpse of a particular painting among the piltovian renaissance art pieces to leave him frazzled and confusingly aroused. it doesn’t help that you, jayce’s personal assistant and newest member to the hextech team, are a perfect match to the beauty depicted.

a/n: strap the fuck it, lads laddies and lassos… we’re taking a trip to viktor pound town (please reblog or comment if you can, this is my magus opus)

The Grand Museum of Art, one of Piltover’s premiere museums, was stationed directly outside Jayce Talis and Viktor’s laboratory. One would think that Viktor had no interest in art, too engrossed in making scientific discoveries to entertain such often trivial subjects. Yet, unbeknownst to many, Viktor frequented that museum on days his mind was muddled with unsolvable equations and failed prototypes launches. What better remedy was there for stuck-in-the-mud science than immersing oneself in the wonders of art?

However, the first time the inventor visited the museum, he worried that he made a mistake. Modern paintings and sculptures littered the front half of the museum; in Viktor’s eyes, they were sorry excuses for art. What was so thought provoking about a banana taped to the ceiling?

“Not a fan of the modern pieces?” a nearby museum employee asked Viktor. The Zaunite tore his gaze from a painting on various black and blue rectangles to answer the employee, “I, eh.. I’m afraid that I’m not.”

“We have a lot better pieces towards the back of the museum,” the employee gestured towards the hallway behind them, “I recommend the section on the Piltovian Renaissance, let me show you,” with a silent nod, Viktor followed the employee towards the recommended section, the end tip of his crutch thumping softly against the museum’s marble floors.

Viktor scanned the various art pieces they passed by. Some were interesting with their use of medium or color while others left a sour impression with their lack of depth. It wasn’t long until they reached the far back portion of the museum, a golden plaque highlighting the words ‘Piltovian Renaissance’ in delicate script by the entrance to the next section. The employee gave Viktor a smile, “I hope you enjoy!” and skittered off to help another patron.

“Piltovian Renassiance,” the inventor mumbled while he adjusted his hold on his crutch. He vaguely encountered the term during his early academy days when he had to take a mandatory art class. Viktor didn’t remember much about it, other than how monotonous and uninterested the professor of that class was, “Let’s see what you have to offer.”

The section reflected the earlier days of the museum, the flooring and walls relics of the past with their aged appearances. A few other patrons perused about the floor, as Viktor strolled up to the first painting by the section’s entrance. The painting was broken into three vertical columns with the largest column showcasing a variety of green and blue hues, people and animals alike scattered about what Viktor could only assume to be Runeterra. His eyes darted to the column left of the largest, much more vibrant and simplistic in its design with only a few people and animals present. He then turned his attention to the rightmost column, the greens and blues replaced by dark colors and the imagery was nothing but suffering and damnation upon its subjects.

“A fan of Bosch, aren’t you?” the jubilant voice of an older woman greeted Viktor. A woman with greying hair and designer clothes waltzed up next to him, a small unfortunate-looking dog shaking in her open purse, “An excellent choice to admire, indeed! What might your view on it be, young man?”

“Eh,” the Zaunite was by no means an art critic nor did he consider himself to be an art enjoyer yet, “It’s, uhm… very vibrant,” he eyed the painting once more, “I like the use of symmetry.”

Despite his lackluster response, the female patron was delighted to hear his views, “As do I! I must say that Hieronymus Bosch’s The Garden of Runeterran Delights is one of his more prudish yet thought-provoking pieces. Many critics believe this piece to be a depiction of our choices in the afterlife, one vibrant and peaceful and the other dark and violent,” she let out a boisterous laugh and her poor dog yelped in response, “Reminds you of the division between Piltover and the Undercity, does it not?”

Viktor bit his bottom lip, “I suppose so,” That’s enough, go away now, you unsightly- “It’s an interesting piece,” Don’t rip her head off with your crutch.

“Indeed!” the woman chirped, “Well, you enjoy your time here, dear. Have a splendid day,” and walked off to go bother someone else. Viktor prayed to Janna for the freedom of that dog trapped in their owners’ clutches.

Viktor tried his best to keep an open but not science heavy mind towards the art, as he shuffled to and from various paintings and sculptures. The works presented in the Piltovian Renaissance collection were much more appealing to the eye than the sorry excuses for art the modern collection had to offer. After examining a sculpture of a Yordle—the inventor swore that the Yordle depicted looked identical to Professor Hemingdinger—shaking hands with a taller person, Viktor searched for a bench and sat down on the closest one, resting his weary body upon it. He laid his crutch next to him and rubbed his eyes, exhaustion evident with his under bags heavier than yesterday. The patrons in front of the bench dissipated a moment or two after Viktor took his seat and showcased a new art piece he hadn’t yet seen.

A painting, just like the many previous ones Viktor saw that day. Its background showcased a night sky full of gorgeous constellations and fluffy clouds. A pondering man sat behind a golden chariot carted by a pair of geese, his skin tan and the lower half of his body covered by blue fabric. Certainly more detailed than the other paintings, Viktor mused to himself, as he savored each component of the painting. He made contact with the subject of the piece and suddenly choked on his own spit, stifling back his coughs.

The subject of the painting featured a woman—a naked woman—adoring a long white veil and golden jewelry. Only her pussy—no, pussy was too crude for this masterpiece—her womanhood and one of her legs were covered by flowing red fabric. Viktor’s gaze locked in an oddity she saw around the woman’s breasts, her hand squeezing one and shooting— Oh my Gods, is THAT breast milk?

Sure enough, it was indeed breast milk, a stream of it being squeezed out from the woman’s breast. The chubby baby who sat upon her clothed thigh reached its hand out to the woman’s breast. His face growing redder by the minute, Viktor quickly glanced at the plaque behind the painting, The Birth of the Celestial Realm by Peter Paul Rubens, and made a swift retreat from the Piltovian Renaissance section of the museum.

Viktor’s mind was filled with nothing but scandalous thoughts, as he walked back to the lab. With each attempt to get back on track with a new equation or problem to solve, it always ended in Viktor visualizing the woman in that painting. By the time he returned to the lab, pink had overtaken the inventor’s usual pale face, enough so that—when Viktor returned to his workstation next to Jayce—his partner commented on it, “Hey Viktor, why are you so pink?”

“It’s cold outside.”

“It’s April.”

“I’m operating under worse bodily conditions than you, so zip it.”

“Okay, okay!”

Viktor let out a low ‘tsk’ and zoned back in on his work, as he examined the leftover blueprints for the next phase of Hextech works. A nose hair trimmer? Is Jayce— “Mr. Talis!” a voice akin to honeysuckles and lavender caught Viktor’s attention. Besides Jayce’s workstation, you, Jayce’s personal assistant, approached with a dossier in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other.

Since Viktor and Jayce had engineered so many improvements and inventions for Piltover, the Council rewarded them with a budgetary increase and money set aside to hire an additional staff member so each inventor could have a personal assistant. Viktor wasn’t confident that the new assistant could get his schedule and needs as right as Sky did, so Jayce offered to take on whoever was hired.

You were a recent graduate from the Academy, five or so years junior to the likes of Viktor and Jayce, and hailed from one of the less-known Houses in Piltover, responsible for overseeing Piltover’s fishing sector. Your name would come up a few times in conversation whenever Jayce forced Viktor to attend a gala or “charity event” held by the Council. You were praised for your intellect, strive for justice, and respect, but more off than not, the members of the upper Piltovian crust were more than willing to speak ill of your name.

Such a plump girl, don’t you think? I fear that she may never find a husband.

Oh, yes, I’m afraid that I must agree. Perhaps, we can convince her mother to lighten up on her portions.

Did you hear that she has to get her dressed altered by a beauty parlor in the Undercity?!

What, really? What a scandal!

Eventually, he would see the owner of that name—you, better dressed than the gossiping women who thought feathers were in fashion—come around and the nobles would plaster on fake smiles and hearty laughs until you moved to a different part of the ballroom.

The Piltovian Houses’ obsession with your appearance was maddening. Upon the few times he interacted with you prior to your arrival as Jayce’s assistant, he could see your strength, your determination, and your passion. The way you spoke about the Undercity was always respectful, correctly referring to it as Zaun and mentioning on occasion how you were convincing your father to partner with Zaun’s fishing businesses to advance equality and equity between the two cities. Compared to the snobbish Piltovians, Zaunites valued fatness; being fat meant you had food, it meant you were strong enough to stand your ground.

Although Viktor wasn’t too key on physical attitudes dominating how relationships were structured, he wasn’t afraid to admit that you were pretty. Your personality and your ambitions accentuated your beauty, but Viktor also found your face to be just as gorgeous. The way you smiled, the spark in your eyes, how your cheeks resembled fresh apples, highlighted the overall appeal of your face. Yet, given the wedge between you two’s stations and the professional boundaries in place, Viktor didn’t think of you more than a kind and pretty coworker of his, someone who would get coffee with or chat about subjects of fancy like physics. Nothing more, nothing less, he was your superior and that was it.

Unfortunately, all of that was thrown out the window today.

Viktor mimicked some tinkering on a miscellaneous project, his eyes fixated on whatever interaction was occurring between you and Jayce. You handed your superior the dossier and informed him of the new projects that the Council was interested in. Jayce flipped through the papers and shook his head, mumbling something about the stupidity of Councilor Salo’s suggestions.

“I also got your coffee, courtesy of Madam Lincove at the café!” you held out the cup of coffee for Jayce to take, “Thank you,” he reached for the cup, fingers barely grazing it, when it suddenly slipped from both of your hands, “Shit!” Jayce successfully caught the cup of coffee before it hit the floor, but not at the expense of casualties.

The sound of a splash, followed by a yelp of pain, echoed throughout the lab. Instead of the floor, most of the coffee landed on your red blouse, darkening the fabric in its wake. Viktor jumped to his feet, which was a bad idea because he nearly fell, when you ran out of the lab and dashed through the hallway. Without a word to Jayce, the inventor left the lab and onto the path you took.

Viktor heard a series of curses coming from the bathroom. There you are. He knocked on the door and called out to you, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes!” you yelled back, “Everything is- oh, fuck!” Without a second thought, Viktor twisted the door knob, you forgot to lock it, and the door swung open, “Are you okay?!” he shouted, his expression frazzled.

You stood frozen in front of the bathroom mirror, a bundle of paper towels in your hands. Lowering your hands, the problem was revealed.

The top buttons of your blouse popped off, exposing your bra and cleavage. A simple black bra held your breasts together. Viktor couldn’t help but stare, eyes as big as saucers, “Oh. I, eh-” he stammered, unable to break his gaze. Instinctively, you dropped the paper towels and covered your chest, “Pl- Please don’t stare!”

“I’m so sorry,” the inventor apologized. A million thoughts raced around his mine, as Viktor attempted to regain his composure. You turned your back to him and mumbled something about needing a sewing kit. Viktor’s attention landed on your ass, the curve and plumpness highlighted by your pencil skirt. His pulse quickened and his palms began to sweat. What am I, a teenage boy seeing a girl for the first time?! Viktor scolded himself.

“Viktor,” you faced the Zaunite once more, hands still concealing your large chest, “Viktor, why do you-” you swallowed a good amount of spit, your eyes fixated on Viktor’s… lower half? “Viktor, why do you have a hard on?”

“What?” Viktor peered down at his trousers. Sure enough, he pitched a tent, his boner on full display. Like you with your chest, he covered his hands to hide his erection, “Oh my Gods, I’m so fucking sorry,” How unprofessional, how lewd, how inappropriate, how—

The Birth of the Celestial Realm appeared in Viktor’s head at the worst possible moment. He thought of the woman in the painting; he thought of how mesmerizing her fat rolls and thighs, how full and large her breasts were, how she posed in such a delightful manner. Viktor stifled back a moan and his cheeks reddened, as his cock strained against his suddenly suffocating trousers.

“Viktor,” the way his name rolled off your tongue sent shivers down his artificial spine, “Why are you looking at me like that?” you inquired, your eyes resembling that of an innocent doe.

“Like- Like what?” Viktor asked, walking over to the sink and using it as a shield for his obvious arousal. You frowned, “Like you wanna devour me whole.”

Something primal clicked in Viktor’s mind at your comment. Slowly, he stepped to the side of the sink and walked towards you, setting his crutch against the bathroom wall. You tilted your head, “Viktor? Whatcha doing?” Gods, you were pure as snow.

Viktor suddenly gripped your sides and squeezed hard, a yelp of shock escaping your red painted lips, “Viktor!” you exclaimed, “What has gotten into you?!”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, his accent thick. You clenched your thighs together at the sound. Viktor’s accent never failed to make your heart skip a beat. In all honesty, you had a bit of a crush on the Zaunite. You admired his work ethic, determination, and resilience, as well as his sharp facial features and hands. Yet, he was your superior, it would be wrong to engage in such a—

Viktor smashed his lips against yours, nearly knocking his crooked teeth into your mouth. You moaned at how deep and lustful his kissing was, as you wrapped your arms around Viktor’s waist as a means to secure him. While the two of you kissed like horny teens ready for their first time, you stepped backwards and backwards until your back was pressed up against the wall.

For a moment, Viktor broke the kiss, “I can’t help myself,” he confessed. His hands moved from your chubby sides to your breasts. With astonishing strength, Viktor tore your blouse open, the remaining buttons flying off and hitting the floor. You gasped, “Oh my Gods,” you never knew that Viktor had such upper body strength.

Viktor pulled you off the wall and, in one swift motion, unhooked your bra. He tossed it on the floor and groped at your chest, his hands a bit too small to fully cover them. Viktor groaned, as he marveled at your chest, almost salivating at the sight. The Birth of the Celestial Realm flashed through his mind again and Viktor pressed his forehead against yours, “I need you,” he whispered, “I need you.”

“Viktor…” you whispered back, your breath tickling the Zaunite’s ear, “Make me yours.”

The honey amber in Viktor’s eyes darkened at your command. Grabbing his crutch, he dragged you off to the unoccupied bathroom and slammed the door shut. Viktor plopped his ass down on the toilet as a makeshift chair and gripped your breasts, “I’ll make you mine,” he jerked one breast towards his face and latched onto the nipple, sucking hard and without shame. You whimpered and moved closer, both breasts squashed against Viktor’s face, “Oh, sweet boy, you’re sucking me so good!” you cried out. Viktor’s mouth vibrated against your sensitive nipple in response, earning another moan from you.

Gods, your skin is so supple and tender, Viktor thought to himself, as his hand reached towards your other breast and clenched it. You panted and moaned shamelessly, as Viktor assaulted your chest with playful grasps and hickeys galore. Your mind was hazy with arousal and desperation. This was a true come dream, something you never pictured happening. The two of you crossed a line that you could never backtrack from.

“Viktor…!” you whined, pushing him off your breasts, “I want you, I wanna please you,” you got on your knees, your thick thighs pressed together, “Please, please let me pleasure you, please.”

“How can I say no to such an angel?” the scientist purred. He hopped off the toilet seat and laid down on the bathroom tiles, he would need to sanitize his clothes at a later time, “Suck my cock, slut,” Oh, that was bold.

You wasted no time in unbuttoning Viktor’s trousers and pulling down his boxers. Staring at Viktor’s pretty cock, you admired its appearance. Pale, slightly vein, a bit thick, and definitely long. Guess it’s true that the tall skinny guys have massive cocks. Your mouth watered at the sight and you leaned forward to give the mushroom tip a gentle kiss.

Viktor moaned under his breath and his dick twitched in satisfaction. You giggled, “You’re so cute,” before lowering your mouth onto his cock. Viktor grunted loudly, panting hard as you took more and more inches in your mouth. You looked divine, you looked ethereal, as you sucked him off. Spit spilled down your lips while your head bobbed with the motions of the blowjobs. You swore you went cross-eyed from the sensation of Viktor’s sweet dick in your mouth. The scent of his cologne, an intoxicating mix of vanilla and bourbon, was enough to water down your mind with pure filth.

While you continued to slurp and drink up the inventor’s essence, you adjusted your position and hitched your ass up, spreading your legs open. One of your hands teased your clothed cunt, rubbing your fingers against your panties. In your new position, you were able to take more of Viktor in your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat.

You felt a pair of bony hands grip at your hair before you were pulled off Viktor’s cock, “Oh, are we-” you tried to ask if he needed a break, only to have your lips slammed back down on his dick. Viktor fucked your face without remorse, a crescendo of moans and groans filling the bathroom while you fought the instinct to gag. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me! your mind chanted like a prayer.

Viktor let out one last grunt and climaxed, shooting a thick rope of cum down your throat. Once finished, he pulled you off his cock and you coughed, some cum leaking out of your mouth. Momma didn’t raise no spitter, you happily took whatever cum the inventor had to offer. Viktor’s hands cupped your face, thumbs caressing your apple-y cheeks, “Oh, kokoušek, you did amazing.”

“Thanks!” your voice was raspy, your throat properly fucked, “Anything for you, Viktor,” the Zaunite graced you with a smile and your body shivered with excitement. He has a great smile. “Lay down,” he instructed you. Like the obedient bitch you were, you did as commanded, switching positions with Viktor and resting your back on the floor, “It’s time that I return the favor,” he mewled, lifting up your skirt and hooking his fingers around the waistband of your tights. Viktor tugged down and removed your tights, taking a moment to admire your strong thighs and the stretch marks he could on your lower stomach, “Simply divine,” he cooed before taking off your skirt, leaving you almost completely naked, minus your lacy cherry panties.

“Oh!” you reached your hands down in an effort to cover yourself up, a force of habit, only to have your hands pinned to the floor, Viktor’s body hovering above you, “No.”

The power from the simple ‘no’ went straight to your cunt, staining your panties with wetness, “Don’t hide from me,” he purred, hot breath tickling your face, “You’re sexy,” he kissed your forehead.

“You’re talented,” he kissed your nose.

“You’re beautiful,” a kiss on your cheek.

“You’re intelligent,” a kiss on the other cheek.

“You’re brilliant,” a kiss to your lips, the longest out of all the kisses, as he lingered. You ran your fingers through his dark waves, combing any knots out and twirling a few strands. Viktor let out a laugh, vibrating against your lips, and pulled himself away, “You’re radiant,” he murmured, “A work of art.”

“As are you,” you gave the scientist a peck on the nose, “Like one of those sculptures from the Piltovian Renaissance.”

Viktor nearly choked on his own saliva, much to your concern, “Are you okay?” you asked with a frown. He nodded, “Yes, yes. It was just surprising to hear so, given that I visited that section in the Grand Museum of Art earlier today.”

“Oh, what a coincidence,” you offered Viktor an innocent, oblivious smile. Gods, you were going to be the death of him, but Viktor much preferred to die at your hands than at his illness, “Oh, drahoušku, indulge me for a moment,” to which you replied, “Anything for you.”

“Sit on my face.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Sit on my face, so I can eat you out.”

“Won’t I suffocate you if I do?”

“Out of all the ways I could die, I rather go out while devouring your warm, wet cunt.”

You blinked rapidly, his words somewhat crude but made your pussy flutter, “Okay then,” you sat back up and Viktor laid back down, planting your thighs between his face like ear muffs, “Are you sure-” you had no time to ask for confirmation when Viktor roughly slammed your cunt against his whole face, hooked nose bumping into your swollen clit while he lapped at your juices like a starved man. You tried so desperately to hold back your moans and cries of pleasure, but succumbed to the frenzy of it all when Viktor dug his nails into your plush thighs as a sign to sing like the siren you were.

“Oh, Vik- Viktor, fuck!” you exclaimed, as the Zaunite greedily ate you out, “Feels so good, so good!” Viktor shifted from your folds to your clit, giving it a harsh suck to test the waters. After hearing your unadulterated whines of ecstasy, Viktor latched on hard to your clit and suckled on it, your juices coating his chin. You thrust your hips, as you rode Viktor’s face without a care in the world. As for Viktor, being suffocated by your cunt was simply marvelous, his eyes rolling in the back of his head from the depleting oxygen. With each thrust, you gained more and more pleasure from the motion and the sucking and the—

You let out a sudden mewl, the knot in your tummy breaking and unleashing an intense orgasm. Your climax drenched Viktor’s whole face in pussy juice, as your clit pulsated inside his mouth. Viktor pulled off from your cunt and moved you towards his neck, content with having your thighs between his ears, “You taste like ambrosia,” Viktor panted, chin and mouth shining with your slick. Who knew that he had a way with words?

“So glad,” you rubbed your eyes and blinked a few times in an effort to recenter your surroundings, “So, so, so nice,” you began collecting your messy clothes when Viktor placed a hand on your ass, “We’re not done yet.”

“We’re not?” you asked with curiosity. Viktor touched his forehead to yours before giving you a peck on the lips, “Not until I feel you inside me.”

You quaked at his answer, so matter-of-fact and domineering. Viktor gave your ass a solid slap, smiling at how it jiggled upon contact, “On your hands and knees, ass up.”

“What about your leg?” you questioned him. Viktor waved you off with some reassurance, “You’re worth it, I’ll just take extra pain medicine later,” he discarded his remaining clothes, joining you in full nude glory. You positioned yourself the way he requested, hands and knees on the cold bathroom floor. Viktor groped at your ass and placed hot kisses from your neck all the way to the dimples near your butt, “Addictive,” he muttered, “You’re driving me mad.”

“Have your way with me,” you cooed to the Zaunite, “I’m all yours.”

It took everything in Viktor’s power not to shove his fat cock right into your pussy, “I’ll go in slow and just give me the okay when to move,” you gave him a thumbs up in reply. Something smooth—the tip of Viktor’s dick—touched your entrance and your toes curled in anticipation. Slowly, Viktor inserted himself inside you and, as gently as he could, slid the entirety of his length in one inch at a time. You groaned at the sensation, you never felt so full before, “Fuck… okay, I’m ready.”

Viktor gripped your sides, as he moved in and out of your cunt at a careful pace. His tip lightly kissed your cervix with each soft thrust, your body submitting itself to the handsome man behind you. Yet, you wanted more and you were patient, “Viktor, please! Faster and deeper, I wanna be fucked!” you whined, “I wanna be claimed by you!”

Adrenaline spiked inside of Viktor, as he pulled all the way out of you before mercilessly slamming his entire length back inside. You yelped like a wounded puppy, but any pain morphed into intense pleasure, as Viktor pounded your pussy like a madman. He huffed and puffed while his pelvis smacked against your ass, his mind clouded with an urge so deeply instilled in every human being.

The need to breed.

“Fuck!” he grunted, his grasp on your sides tightening, “I can’t believe I’m fucking my beautiful junior. I bet you never thought this moment would happen, huh?” his cock abused your cervix with each thrust, “I didn’t think so either, but fuck, you unlocked something in me that I didn’t know existed,” your superior lowered one hand from your hip and onto one of your breasts.

“I want you, I need you, I need to fill up your pretty cunt with my seed-” The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed off the bathroom walls.

“I have to make that tummy of yours all round and taut-” Your head bobbed to the rhythm of Viktor’s thrusts.

“You want that, don’t you? To have my kid, right? Oh, I think you would be an amazing mother-” each smack from Viktor into your cunt forced a moan out of you.

“Can I cum inside you? Please?” Viktor sounded so needy and pathetic, hungry to satisfy his urges, “Gods, please say yes, I need it, please!” he begged.

“You can!” you sobbed, tears of rapture rolling down your fat cheeks, “Knock me up, sir! I need it, too!”

With one last guttural moan, Viktor emptied his load inside you, coating it in hot sticky seed. You clenched down on his cock and milked every last drop out, much to Viktor’s delight. Soon, he finished up inside of you and pulled out, some of the white creamy liquid pouring out of your fucked out pussy. Viktor shoved his fingers inside and you let out a wanton gasp, “I can’t allow any to leak out,” he rasped. You tilted your hips up to prevent any more cum from spilling out, relishing in the feeling of a cum-filled pussy.

Once satisfied, Viktor removed his fingers from your cunt and wiped any cum on his thigh. You collapsed down on the bathroom floor and flipped yourself onto your back, utterly shattered from such intense sex. Viktor joined you on the floor and latched his spindly body onto yours, partaking in your soft warmth. You returned the Zaunite display of affection to Viktor, touching your forehead briefly against his, “That was… just… wow,” there were no words in the English language that could properly describe how incredible you felt.

Viktor snuggled closer into you, “Wow, indeed,” he sighed aloud, “We must do this again in the future.”

“Oh, yeah?” you couldn’t help but grin, “Not a one-time thing, huh?”

“Not after I got a slice of the heavens from you.”

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

Outside the bathroom, a familiar muscular man stood guard, shooting passerbys a sheepish look whenever their eyes perked up at the sound of the moans and such from inside the bathroom. Jayce held a spare sweater in his hands, he had run to assist you after Viktor. It was the gentleman’s thing to do, he did spill coffee on you and ruin your blouse.

Instead, the sweater acted as a makeshift barrier to hide his boner, too large to be concealed by hands alone, as Jayce unfortunately overheard the entire exchange between you and Viktor.

Guess me and V do have the same type, maybe I’ll get a chance in the future.

[vermithorn]

* DISSOLVE

pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader

summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.

contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.

author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !

Winterfell was.. nice.

Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.

You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.

*

“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…” 

Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.

“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”

Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;

“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.

You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.

“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.

 As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks. 

“My lady.”

Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.

“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”

Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”

You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.” 

He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.

“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.

He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.” 

You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”

“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”

He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”

This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”

Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North. 

He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”

“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.

“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.

He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.

“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”

Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.

“Perhaps you could join me?”

A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.

“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”

You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”

Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.

“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”

*

Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress. 

But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him. 

The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.

“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.

“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”

Of fucking course.

Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.

Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.

He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”

Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.

“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”

He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.

“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”

Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.

“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments. 

“Like what you see, pup?” 

Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.

“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”

You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”

He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.

He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”

“Join me.” 

He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.

He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”

Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.

He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,” 

He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.

Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.

As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.

“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.

Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.

“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?” 

He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yes.”

His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.

He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”

His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.

You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.

“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.

“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.

He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.

“You want me to continue, my princess?” 

You nod, “Go further,”

His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.

“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.

“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?” 

“As far as you wish, pup.”

Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges. 

Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.

“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.

His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.

You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”

Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them. 

He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”

Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”

Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.

Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.

He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.

Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.

“I want you, do you want me?”

He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.

“Hell yes, my princess.”

You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.

“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.

His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.

Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.

“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

[bonesxbows]

Surgery of a Hope (Astarion x Reader)

My Masterlist

Someone dared to try to lay a hand on you and Astarion finds out. He leaves Gale to comfort you while he goes and "takes care" of it. Or alternatively, Astarion is trying to show you he loves you in one of the only ways he knows how; by killing.

(WARNINGS) - mentions of sexual assault/assault (depending on how you look at it), but does not go into a lot of detail - crying/breakdown - trauma responses

If you have any triggers relating to assault or past assault please be careful reading this. I have not personally experienced what is written here but it is loosely based on trauma of my own and the goal was to write something to act as a comfort for myself and whoever else needs to read something like this. But please tread carefully, I didn't write this with the intent of triggering anyone.

Otherwise, I hope you enjoy and I hope reading this can help someone else like writing it helped me :) Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!

Banners by @strangergraphics

You sat on the ground inside your tent, nestled in the corner of the fabric, your knees pulled up to your chest. You were slowly rocking back and forth, replaying the traumatic events of the day in your head. Your body was present, but your mind was lost in its own little world, your eyes glassed over. You didn't notice Astarion barge into your tent, a bubble of excitement coming with him.

“Darling! I've been waiting all day to have a moment with you all to myself. I-” His sentence and his body stopped dead in their tracks when his eyes finally found you, a sad little ball of limbs shoved into the corner. His voice startled you out of your daze. He walked closer towards you and reached out a hand, but you jumped in response to him approaching and shuffled yourself deeper into the corner, as far away from him as you possibly could get. He frowned. He recognized your fear, he remembered acting like you were doing now once before and that worried him.

“Astarion, wait. I…wait. Please, don't come any closer.” You spilled out your words quickly. Your eyes were glued to his outstretched hand, wide like a gnoll staring down a wall of fire, and tears started to pool underneath them.

“What’s wrong my love?” He hated when you cried. He was getting better at learning how to comfort you but he still got nervous about making it worse. His frown deepened but he respected your request and instead knelt down where he was, keeping his distance from you.

“I…um…” you stumbled over your words, your mouth becoming dry and thick, like someone had shoved cotton down your throat. You tried to blink away the tears but they were now two hot waterfalls running down your face.

“It’s alright, you can tell me. What happened?” You looked like a scared animal and it reminded him too much of how he used to feel. He was concerned, but he was also angry. He had a feeling he already knew what had happened to you and the thought of him being right made him burn with rage inside. You took a shaky breath and did your best to speak coherently.

“Someone…um, someone tried to touch me earlier when we were in town. I…I tried to stop them, tried to fight them off. Some things were said and…and…” Your story ended there as the sobs racked your body aggressively. You buried your head in your arms, wrapping your hands around your shoulder to try to comfort yourself as you rocked back and forth, crying and screaming and sobbing loudly. Astarion swore he could feel his undead heart shatter. He could do nothing but sit there and watch as you poured out your emotions. He knew from experience that if he tried to comfort you it would only make the situation worse, but he felt helpless just sitting there and doing nothing. So he reached over and yanked your blanket off of your cot, folding it up haphazardly and placing it between the two of you, nudging your foot with the fabric, doing his best not to touch you.

You poked your head up slightly, eyeing him. You saw the blanket, your blanket, and how Astarion sat back on his heels, a comforting smile on his face. You unfurled a hand from your cocoon of limbs and reached forward slowly, grabbing the blanket tentatively, as if even the soft material would snap back at you as well. But it didn't, so you pulled it into your lap on top of your knees and buried your head into the comfort of it, sniffing the familiar scent of Astarion’s cologne that had rubbed off on it from his constant nights spent in your tent with you. You used a corner of it to wipe away your tears and tried to focus on steadying your breathing. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to Astarion and he nodded his head.

“Do you think you can manage to remember who it was, my love? Can you tell me what they looked like?” he asked you softly. He wanted to reach out and grab your hand in his, but he stayed still for now. He would not touch you until you were ready and asked him to, no matter how much he wanted to. You began to shake your head furiously.

“No. Astarion, no. It was nothing, really. You don't need to do anything. It was my fault anywa-” He cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

“Do not even finish that statement darling. None of this is your fault. None of it. Do you understand? Now, what did they look like?” his face was like stone, serious and deadly. It didn't scare you, not anymore at least, but you knew trying to argue with him at this point was futile. You were so confused and upset you did not know what the right thing to do was so you trusted Astarion and told him everything you could remember. You watched as he took off his jacket and moved closer to you. But he stopped just before he got too close.

“Is it alright if I touch you my sweet?” He asked before he did anything and you nodded, although slowly. He leaned forward to drape his jacket over your shoulders and pull it up over your neck. Your fingers fumbled at first but you grabbed it and pulled it as close to your skin as you could, relishing in the warmth and comfort radiating off of the velvet fabric.

“Stay here, alright? I’ll tell Gale to accompany you here inside of your tent so you don't have to be alone. I promise I’ll be back before morning.” He leaned forward again to kiss you gently on your forehead and you didn't jerk away this time. He smiled warmly at you but his ruby eyes shone with anger and malice. He began to stand up and head for the entry flap of your tent.

“Wait! Where are you going?” You jumped from surprise and began to reach for him but stopped abruptly when his jacket began to fall off of your shoulders and instead quickly grabbed it again and pulled it back up around you. You were afraid to be alone, even with Gale. You only felt safe around Astarion. Your sense of security was so shattered you were hesitant to trust anyone except him. He turned back around before he left.

“Promise me you'll stay here with Gale.” no, you wanted to go with him, wherever he was going. You wanted his warmth and to be in his arms with him by your side protecting you, no one else.

“But I-” he cut you off again. He was not looking for any arguments tonight.

“Promise me, my love.” there was no arguing with the look in his eyes and there was no changing his mind about whatever he had set his mind on doing. “I promise.” you choked out, trying not to cry again at the thought of him leaving you right now.

“Good. I’ll be back as soon as I can alright? Then I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.” You watched him leave, trying to blink away the tears that threatened to flow. You gripped his jacket even tighter and breathed in the smell of his cologne again, it was an even stronger scent on his jacket than on your blanket. A few moments after Astarion left Gale walked in, smiling sympathetically. He somehow juggled a bowl, two mugs, and a stack of books in his hands without dropping anything.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. You didn't give an answer and watched as he sat where Astarion once was just a minute ago and placed all of the things in his hands in front of him, between the two of you.

“We don't have to talk if you'd rather not. But I thought you might like a distraction while Astarion is away. My time is yours.” You looked at him and he looked sincere, but you were still a little wary. But this was Gale, someone who had stuck by your side from the very beginning and had been nothing but respectful and helpful ever since. You gazed over what he had brought with him, there was what appeared to be stew in the bowl and the two mugs were filled with tea and still steaming. The books were ones you recognized, titles you had once borrowed from him and had told him you had enjoyed immensely. Books that you knew, that were familiar, and there was comfort in familiarity. He knew this. Gale was your best friend, he was the second person to know just about everything about you. You were grateful that his memory was impeccable and that he had remembered all of your favorite things, especially at a time like now.

“What kind of soup is that?” you asked. The tears had subsided, for now. He was glad you were up to talking, it was going to be a long night for him if he had to sit here in silence the whole time.

“Vegetable and sausage. And that’s peppermint tea, with sugar, just how you like it. I've also brought your favorite books, but I can fetch something else if reading isn't up to your liking currently.” He stole a pillow from the pile off of your bed and propped himself up against the side of your tent, still an agreeable distance away from you. Astarion must have given him the details of your jumpiness and sensitivity to touch right now. You couldn't help but smile just a little.

“The books are alright for now, Gale. Thank you.” You reached forward for one of the mugs and chose one of the books from the stack as you did so.

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, alright? Im not going anywhere until Astarion gets back.” you nodded and took a sip from the mug, the tea warming your scratchy throat on the way down. You opened the book to the first page and Gale did the same with his own book.

Eventually the warm tea, familiar story, and comfort of Astarion’s scent lulled you into a sleep. Your body was exhausted from the day’s events and the extensive crying you had done earlier. Gale had stayed with you the entire night, within arms reach just in case you needed him, even when the rough ground began to irritate his old human body. He had even lit the candles in your tent after the sun had set just so you would not be in complete darkness if you woke up in the middle of the night.

You were never a heavy sleeper, but now you were even more anxious in your sleep after what had happened. A dull thud had woken you up and you heard the sound of water splashing. Your eyes fluttered open quickly but your heart calmed down when you saw the back of a familiar white shirt and white curls in the candlelight. Astarion had returned at some point, before morning just like he had promised, but his back was turned to you and he was knelt in front of your washing bucket.

“Astarion? Is that you?” you asked groggily. Your voice was thick with sleep but you were wide awake, grateful that he was back already.

“Go back to sleep darling, it’s alright.” he spoke sweetly to you like always, but he stayed with his back to you, working something onto the wash board inside the tub.

“Where have you been?” you sat up, blinking away the remaining sleep in your eyes and trying to focus on what he was doing. A part of you already had a guess of where he had been for the last few hours but you asked anyway, not wanting to believe what you knew was already true.

“No where you need to worry your pretty little head about, everything’s alright.” he told you, but you were too curious now to go back to sleep. Astarion hated chores, yet here he was scrubbing laundry in the middle of the night. You stood up quietly and padded over to him, still holding onto his jacket around your shoulders. You leaned over his shoulder and observed. He was holding on to a different white shirt than the one on his back currently, scrubbing furiously as the soapy water turned pink. Now that you were closer you also noticed the way the candlelight shined against black spots in his hair, a stark difference against his bleach white curls. You frowned slightly, accepting your previous conclusion as the truth now.

“Is that blood?” you asked. You already knew the answer but you wanted to hear it from him.

“No.” he tried to deny the obvious, though he already knew you wouldn't believe the white lie.

“Astarion.” you said sternly, gently warning him to tell you the truth this time.

“Alright maybe it is. But the bastard deserved it.” he stopped scrubbing and so you sat down on the ground behind him. He turned to look at you, abandoning the shirt in the dirty water.

“What did you do?” your voice was calm. You didn't mind he had taken matters into his own hands, in fact you were secretly grateful.

“I taught him a much needed lesson my love. He won’t be hurting anyone ever again.” his lips turned up into his signature killer smile. He was proud of himself for the kill, as per usual. You wanted to thank him, say something, anything, to convey how relieved you felt, but the words got caught in your throat. His smile faltered a little when he noticed the pool of tears forming in your eyes, but he knew you were okay from the small smile that was stuck on your face.

He dunked his hands back into the water to wash the rest of the blood off and then dried them on his pants before outstretching a hand to you, silently asking for yours. You obliged, placing your hand in his. He brought it up to his face and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckle. You couldn't help the small laugh that bubbled up from his gesture, the smile on your face growing despite the tears that started to flood your face. You were safe. Even after all that had happened, you were safe with Astarion.

[whatthetumblfck]

I Was Born Ready

Summary: You're kidnapped on a mission gone wrong and it only gets worse. You eventually escape, but will Bucky and the team see you the same way?

Word Count: 6517

Warnings: swearing, some injuries, angst, whump

Content: Bucky x reader, Y/N, Avengers, whump, kidnapping. All of my fics are self-indulgent.

Please don't claim my work as your own, but feel free to reblog.

You wiped the sweat from your brow.  As far as you could tell, it had been 5, maybe 6, days since you were taken. You knew what HYDRA were doing. They were trying to break you. You adjusted your legs and shifted your weight in the dark, cramped space.  For the last several hours, you had been locked in some sort of box, just big enough to crouch or sit with crossed legs. It was hot as hell and you’d been sweating profusely, wondering how much longer you would last before passing out from dehydration or dying from heat stroke. But you tried not to worry about it. They will come for you soon. He will come for you. You just need to hang on a little while longer.

               A few more hours had passed, and the heat was suffocating. What little strength you had left was dwindling. You rested your head against the wall of the enclosure and closed your eyes, fighting the nauseating dizziness that threatened to overcome you.  The rattling of chains caught your attention. It seemed like the sound was getting closer. It was then you realized you had drifted- asleep? Unconscious? You weren’t sure, but you fought like hell to focus your attention on what was happening right outside your tiny prison. Suddenly, there was a sharp creak of metal and cool light flooded the box. You squinted your eyes, desperate to see what was going on.

“Get up!” a harsh voice demanded.

Your body shook as you tried to stand, but it was no use. You were too weak and dehydrated.

“GET UP!” they shouted angrily, as if that would provide the strength needed to undo the last several hours of torture.

Instead, your body gave up completely and you slumped inside the box. The next thing you registered was the sensation of a cool breeze on your face and the tops of your feet scraping along concrete as they dragged you by your arms back to your cell.

ONE WEEK EARLIER

“The fuck you mean it’s abandoned?” you whispered.

“I mean, I’m not picking up any heat signatures inside the building,” Sam clarified, adjusting Redwing’s controls just to be sure.

Bucky lowered his chin, smiling to himself. He knew you were always looking forward to a fight.

“All right, until we clear it, we’re going to proceed with caution,” Steve began, “Y/N and Bucky, you’re going to enter the south side of the building. Sam and I will cover the north entrance. Position Redwing on the east to detect movement from the access road. Once it’s clear, we set the charges and evacuate.”

You stole a sideways glance at Bucky and tried to hide your excited smile. You loved working with Bucky; you consider him to be your best friend. You felt like there might even be more there too. But you never pushed him. If being friends was all he wanted, then you would be happy with that.  Bucky was mostly quiet and reserved, but sometimes he would open up to you, tell you about his life before the war. Sometimes, but very rarely, he would reveal the horrors HYDRA inflicted upon him. You couldn’t respond; only listen in sickened contempt. Your hatred for them became personal because of what they put him through, but you also began to piece together how they operate, their torture methods, and their twisted thought processes. You filed away this information little by little, to use against them and one day, take them down. It became your personal mission, why you were so eager to take on HYDRA related missions, and so disappointed when they turned out to be flops.

Your thoughts were interrupted by an elbow gently nudging your arm. “You ready?” Bucky said as your eyes met his.

“I was born ready,” you replied, smugly.

Bucky smiled at your enthusiasm, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He was tired of fighting, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to watch HYDRA burn to the ground. Having you fight beside him, though, was a double-edged sword. He enjoyed your company more than he let on, but he also worried for your safety.  He always asked Steve to pair you two together as much as possible on missions (so he could keep an eye on you), and he always received a knowing look in return. You were one of the best fighters Bucky had ever seen, but you could also be impulsive. Most of the time, you managed to compensate for this flaw and come out on top in the fight, but there have been quite a few close calls. Too close for Bucky’s comfort, even if you insisted you had everything under control.

“After you then,” Bucky said, gesturing to the south entrance.

“Such a gentleman,” you flirted, even though your tone was a bit condescending. You didn’t miss the fact that Bucky liked to keep an eye on you. It was obvious, the way he stuck by your side for every mission. It was sweet, but completely unnecessary.

Entering the building was uneventful. As you looked around, you took note of all the dust and debris, the result of what must have been years of no use. Maybe Sam was right, it must be abandoned. What a waste of time. You continued your sweep, clearing each derelict room.

“Second and third floors are clear,” Sam’s voice sounded in your comm.

“Well, aren’t you an over-achiever?” you responded mockingly.

“Y/N, Buck. What’s your status?” Steve asked, attempting to maintain professionalism on the mission. Captain Steve didn’t know how to have fun. Killjoy.

“First floor is clear, heading to the basement now,” Bucky reported, shooting you a ‘behave yourself’ look. You stuck your tongue out at him and ran for the stairwell.

“Y/N, wait!”

“Come on! There’s nothing here. Let’s clear this moldy-ass basement so we can blow it up and get home. I’m starving!” you announced.

Bucky caught up with you and roughly grabbed your elbow to pull you back.

“We need to be careful. This is HYDRA we’re dealing with. You need to take this seriously.”

You ripped your arm from his grasp, offended he would be so rough with you. “This isn’t HYDRA. This isn’t anything. There’s literally nothing here.”

Bucky schooled his expression. He didn’t want to be angry with you, but your recklessness could put everyone in danger. He let out a frustrated sigh, putting his hands on your shoulders and lowering his head to look into your eyes.

“Will you please be more careful? For me?”

You were momentarily stunned by the soft cadence of his voice. But quickly regathered your thoughts.

“Bucky, I am being careful. You need to lighten up.” You shrugged out of his grasp and turned back to the stairwell.

What is with everyone today? The super-soldiers are being super-serious. Even Sam seems like a stick in the mud, definitely not his usual, talkative self. Did you do something to offend them? You thought about the events of the last few days and couldn’t think of anything out of the ordinary. Definitely nothing that would explain what everyone’s problem is.

You glanced over your shoulder to see Bucky a few paces behind you as you descended the last of the stairs and reached the basement.

“Well, I didn’t think it was possible, but this looks even more abandoned than the first floor,” you said giving Bucky a pointed look.

“Just keep your eyes open for anything suspicious.” Bucky gently brushed past you to take the lead, advancing down the corridor. He had an uneasy feeling he just couldn’t shake.

“Suspicious?” you remarked sarcastically. “This whole mission is suspicious. What are we fighting here? The cobwebs? The ridiculous amount of dust?” You pushed past Bucky to take the lead again, but when you glanced back, you realized he had stopped. He was looking at you with wide eyes; his expression, one you didn’t recognize.  

“What? What is it?” you asked, concern growing in the pit of your stomach.

“You’re right. Nothing about this is right. There’s too much dust. Our source indicated there was activity here less than a year ago. It shouldn’t look like this.”

You looked around nervously. “Maybe the source was wrong.”

“Not likely…”

Unexpected static in the comms made you jump. You could hear Steve’s voice, but it kept breaking up and you couldn’t understand what he was saying until you made something out very clearly that made your blood run cold.

Pull back……’s a trap…--t out…ABORT!

Your eyes locked with Bucky’s. You froze. He was standing about 10 feet from you when you both registered a rapid clicking noise, like a sped-up clock.

“RUN!!” You heard him yell just before the explosion.

The wall behind you erupted, sending you several yards through the air until you collided with the ground. You could feel the heat and unbearable pressure on your back as you lay prone in the ruins. Dust swirled around you. After several moments of trying to remember how to breathe again and process what the hell had just happened, you remembered that Bucky was with you. You glanced over in his direction, but all you could see was a literal wall of rubble, fire, and smoke. You struggled to focus your eyes, blinking rapidly to clear the tears that were forming. Damn, that hurt.

Distantly, you could hear someone calling your name.

“Buck--,” your voice was cut off by a coughing fit as the dust invaded your lungs. “Bucky…” you tried again.

“Y/N?” he sounded closer. You could hear movement, crumbling concrete. “Are you hurt?”

It was at this point, you realized you should probably take a moment to figure out the damage.

“Y/N??” his voice sounded more concerned, more urgent. You weren’t sure how long you had taken to respond.

“Uhh…I….I think I’m okay……I can’t move. I think…ahh…there’s something on my back,” you choked out.

“You’re gonna be okay. We’re coming to get you. Just..hang on, okay? Hang on.”

Hearing this made you relax. Getting blown up was exhausting. You were certain you were going to hear about this later. About how you should have listened to Bucky, been more careful, taken the mission more seriously. You closed your eyes, trying to reserve your strength. You would need it to climb out of this burning hole in the ground.

After a few minutes, you felt the pressure on your back lessen. That was fast. You opened your eyes and tried to focus on Bucky’s face, but then you heard his voice from behind the burning wall of concrete. Confused, you concentrated your attention on the blurry figure standing before you. HYDRA. You gathered all your strength, trying to fight, but you couldn’t get a single hit in before a blow to your face rendered you unconscious.

Bucky heard footsteps and scraping rocks on the other side of the barrier. He had finally managed to make a dent in the rubble just large enough to see through. To see you being dragged away by HYDRA.

“NOOOO!” Bucky frantically slammed his metal fist into the rubble, trying to break through, but it was no use. He couldn’t get to you in time. He watched as you disappeared into the dust and smoke.

You were freezing. Another week had passed, maybe two. You weren’t sure. It was the same thing. Over and over.  Freezing to the point you couldn’t move or think. Then they would throw you in the box again until you passed out from the heat. You didn’t even know what they wanted. They didn’t ask you anything, barely said three words to you. Wouldn’t answer any of your questions. How the hell did they expect to get information out of you if they didn’t fucking ask you anything? Idiots. You’d be glad to give them as much false information as you could muster.

You were frustrated. Frustrated with this pointless torture and frustrated that no one had broken you out of this shithole yet. What was taking so long?

The next day was new. This time a man in a lab coat came into your cell. Based on the history of everything you have come to know about HYDRA, the lab coat is not a good sign.  He peered down at you where you sat against the cold, concrete wall.

“She’s ready,” he practically drooled with excitement. Disgusting.

Two oversized goons entered your cell and brought you to your feet as another ganglier looking goon wheeled in a stretcher. Your stomach dropped. Not good. This is not good. You tried not to let anxiety and fear get the best of you. You’ve endured the heat, the cold, the physical pain and the repulsive goop they fed you, but this was new, and you had no idea what they had planned.

“No. No no no. What are you doing?” You kicked and fought weakly as they strapped you down. You were unable to move.

Lab coat leaned in close to your face. You could smell the wicked stench rolling out of his mouth.

He simply answered, “Phase two.”

……..

“What do you want? You’ve been torturing me for weeks and haven’t asked me a damn thing! Do you even know how this works? No? Must have missed that day in torture 101.”

The lab coat stopped what he was doing and turned to face you. Amusement and almost pity plastered on his face.

“My dear. I haven’t been torturing you. I’ve been preparing you.”

…………

The first injection must have been a sedative and, for that, you were thankful. Your vision became blurry and all your muscles relaxed at once. You could’ve almost fallen asleep. Until the second injection. At first, it was cold, like ice running through your veins. Starting in your arm and flowing through your chest before settling in the rest of your limbs. It was enough to make you shiver and shake uncontrollably. With the last injection came the unbearable heat. It spread through you like wildfire, burning through the sedative and blistering your nerves. It coursed through your body, the agonizing flames filling your skull, threatening to split it open. It was too much. Unbearable. You thrashed your arms and legs beneath the restraints, screaming until you went hoarse. Nothing you did relieved the pain, the burning.  You were left alone in your misery, knowing nothing but the searing pain in your head, threatening to end your life. You hoped it would.

Then, it stopped. You thought maybe death had finally taken you and you felt sadness, for Bucky. For the team. But you were back in your cell. This couldn’t be death. Death isn’t this cruel.

You rolled on your side and slowly sat upright, fighting off the dizziness. You felt horrible, like you should be dead, but at least the pain had subsided. You experimentally staggered to the door of your cell and peered through the slot. It was eerily silent. Still, you waited to see if anyone approached. They almost always did when you awoke to send you for another round of torture…or wait. What did he say? They were preparing you..for what? The injections, ice and fire, the pain, all came flooding back to you. What did they do? Your breaths came faster. You had to get out of there. Fear and panic were in control now. You pushed and pulled at the door feverishly, and to your surprise, the door opened. Worried this was another trap, you stepped back, but no one came. What the fuck?

You left your cell and made your way down the hallway, searching for the exit or at the very least, a weapon. The building was completely cleaned out. They left you there, their experiment. Did they think you were dead? Or just a failure? You didn’t feel any different. Those HYDRA morons must have been bigger fucking idiots than you gave them credit for. Still, you weren’t going to stick around. When you finally made it out of the building, you realized you actually recognized the area. You weren’t that far from the compound. It made you sick to think you were only 10 or so miles from home this whole time, and still, they couldn’t find you. HYDRA could have practically walked up and rang the front doorbell, and the team would have had no idea.

It was cold outside and you were dressed only in a thin gown. You walked for hours, determined to make it home. You had no way of contacting anyone. You were surrounded by a few trees and fields of nothing. The final yards leading up to the compound were grueling. You were exhausted. Your feet bled and your legs shook with the effort.

It was early evening, you guessed, when you painfully stumbled into the common room, where Steve, Bucky and Sam all sat, attention focused on various maps and blueprints laid out before them. Steve saw you first, eyes staring and mouth hanging open. It would have been humorous had you not just been through hell and back. Bucky stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Steve’s expression and turned his head to see what Steve was staring at.

“Y/N??” Bucky couldn’t believe it. His eyes ran over your battered form, watching your whole body shake with fatigue.

You didn’t know what to say. You tried to choke back the tears that were now streaming down your face.

But this was all you could handle. You were suddenly dizzy, the room had started to spin and you dropped to your knees as Bucky ran towards you.

“Oh God! Call Dr. Cho!” Bucky ordered, but Sam was already on it.

You collapsed into Bucky’s arms and saw Steve running toward you. Bucky’s alarmed face was the last thing you saw before your eyes involuntarily closed.

When you awoke the next day, you were alone in the med bay. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, trying to force out the lingering headache. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and were about to remove your IV when Bucky walked into your room.

“Hey, you’re awake,” he said as he approached you cautiously. “How are you feeling?”

“Um..really..hungover,” you cracked a smile trying to break the tension. “How long was I out?”

Bucky looked at his watch before responding, “About 23 hours.”

“Oh shit. New record.”

Bucky looked nervous. “We looked everywhere..”

“Not everywhere,” you retorted, sounding more bitter than you intended.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you again.”

“Well…that makes two of us.” Your eyes stayed trained on the floor. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. You spent weeks dreaming about seeing him again, and now you couldn’t even look at him. Why? Were you that angry that they couldn’t find you? They were obviously looking.

Bucky sensed that maybe this wasn’t the best time to broach the subject, so he changed it.

“So..uh…they want to do a debriefing on what happened as soon as you’re feeling well enough.”

You faltered. You didn’t want to talk about it, relive it. Especially so soon. But you’d rather get it over with so you can move on with your life. Put the whole ordeal behind you.

You looked down at the IV in your arm before ripping it out, the blood beginning to trickle down to your palm.

“Doll—what are you doing?” Bucky lunged toward you, grabbing gauze off the bedside table to apply pressure to the site.

You grabbed the gauze and took over applying pressure.

“I’m about to change my clothes,” you began glancing around the room before finding some in a bag below the bed, “so unless you want to see me naked, you can turn around.”

Bucky paused, mouth opening slightly before regaining his composure and turning to face away from you. You caught him off guard, which is honestly, something you’ve never seen happen.

You were a little disappointed. Maybe you’d been reading him wrong, and he doesn’t see you that way. Or maybe he’s just being a gentleman. This isn’t exactly the best time to explore your feelings for one another. Still, it stung.

………………………..

You sat at the table, nervously glancing at all the faces in the room. Fury, Tony, Steve, and Sam all had their eyes on you. Everyone except Bucky. He stood in the corner, holding his gaze to the floor.  He looked more nervous than you felt. Weird.

They asked their usual questions, and you answered as best you could. But you didn’t feel comfortable enough to go into extensive detail. You trusted these men with your life, but it was starting to feel less like a debriefing and more like an interrogation.

“…and you’re sure that’s all you remember?” Fury asked again.

You looked around the room again, each set of eyes seeming frustrated. Expecting more information than what you’ve provided for the last 2 hours. This was exhausting. A familiar headache was building behind your eyes, and you were beyond done with this.

When you didn’t answer right away, Tony asked another question. “They just let you walk away?” You could hear the blatant skepticism.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” Tears were starting to fill your eyes. Damnit! This is not how you thought this would go, but you were feeling pressured, overwhelmed. “They tortured me! For weeks! The same damn thing. Over and over and over again! And I don’t know---maybe they thought I was DEAD!” You choked on a sob; tears streaming down your face now.

“Okay! That’s enough!” Bucky interjected, seemingly ending the questioning.

You quickly stood from your seat and rushed out of the room.

They all exchanged glances and Bucky lingered there silently for a moment before following you.

When he reached your room in the compound, he knocked, but you didn’t answer.

“Doll. It’s me. Can I come in?”

Again, you didn’t answer. He could hear your quiet cries. He tried the handle, but you had locked the door.

“Can you unlock the door, please?”

“Go away, Bucky,” you said, softly. You didn’t need to yell. You knew he could hear you.

“Come on. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” With that, he could hear you moving towards the door.

You angrily flung the door open, surprising Bucky and forcing him to take a step back. Your hair was disheveled, eyes red and still wet with tears.

“Do I look fucking okay to you!?!?” Bucky looked into your eyes, not knowing what to say.

“HYDRA imprisoned me, practically in our own fucking backyard and still no one came for me!”

“Y/N, I swear to you, we never stopped looking—”

“And as soon as I fight my way back here, you all grill me for information, like it was my fucking idea to get captured?”

“Doll, no one thinks this was—”

“I waited for—aagh—” the pain in your head suddenly flared. You squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the skin between them. Your discomfort was evident.

“Hey, hey. What is it? What’s wrong?” Bucky’s worried eyes searched your face for answers.

You tried to recover, to push the pain aside.

“I waited for you—AAGH” the pain peaked. The same blistering heat threatening to end you, keeled you over.

With your shaking hands on your knees, you could feel Bucky move to your side. His arms wrapped around your waist to support you.

“Doll, what’s going on? Answer me. Please!”

But you couldn’t answer him. You were back on that stretcher. A prisoner, again. All you knew was the burning pain. Maybe this time, it would spare you the torment and claim your life.

“SOMEBODY HELP! I NEED HELP!” Bucky’s voice sounded far away.

The fire swirled in your skull and bile burned the back of your throat. You lurched forward, fell to your knees, and vomited on the floor. Everything was suddenly black, then nothing.

You awoke once more, alone, in the med bay.  Well, not completely alone. You could hear talking, whispers. Just outside your door.

There’s something she’s not telling me. But I’m not going to try to force answers out of her. She’ll come to me when she’s ready. I’m just going to be her friend. That’s what she really needs right now.

Just a friend? You felt the blanket of disappointment weigh on you again. You were pulled from your thoughts when Bucky opened the door.

You kept your eyes on him as he carefully entered the room.

“Who were you talking to?”

“Huh?”

“Who were you talking to just now?” You tried not to sound like you were accusing him, but you didn’t like being talked about behind your back.

“I wasn’t talking to anyone,” Bucky shook his head, seeming to be genuinely confused.

Great. Now Bucky was lying to you. Some friend he’s trying to be. Even with him literally by your side, you were suddenly feeling very alone. No one trusted you. They think you’re hiding something. Truth be told, you are hiding something. You never told them about the injections, how the torture was actually “preparations”. You even left out the creepy lab guy coat because you were afraid. Afraid if they found out what really happened, that you were an experiment, they wouldn’t look at you the same way. You were afraid you would lose their hard-earned respect, your place on the team. You couldn’t risk it.

“So what happened?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“The pain? Passing out?” Bucky pressed, becoming serious. This felt like an interrogation again.

“Oh…it was just a headache,” you offered. Were you honestly expecting them not to ask?

“That’s bullshit. What happened to you? What did they do?” He seemed desperate and angry and you were becoming more and more guarded.

“I thought you weren’t going to force answers out of me.” You threw his words back in his face.

“What?”

“Nothing”

“What did you say just now?”

You were out of patience and just wanted to be alone. “Nothing. Please leave.”

Bucky stared at you, disbelieving, before turning his back on you and walking out the door.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. What the hell happened? Everything was fine. You were on a mission, business as usual, and then you were captured and tortured. You miraculously make it back home and suddenly, everyone is against you? You didn’t do anything wrong. Why is everyone acting like you’re at fault?  Your thoughts are becoming louder in your head, circling frantically and building tension. You clench your teeth, trying to hold in a scream, but you can feel an energy building inside you. You pull your knees to your chest, struggling to contain it. Your clenched fists pound at your temples. You don’t know what’s happening; you feel out of control, about to spill over. Explode.

Suddenly, you lose control, letting out an ear-piercing scream, releasing a force you had never felt before. All at once, glass bottles and cabinets shatter, the reinforced windows in your room crack. Furniture is thrown chaotically. Everything is broken, in a frightening disarray, and you’re left sitting in the ruins of what once felt like a safe place.

You tried to catch your breath, eyes darting around the room, attempting to make sense of what just happened.

Oh, God. Oh, God.  What did HYDRA do to you? What have you done? You needed to get out of there. Now. You jump to your feet, grab your clothes, and run. You shove past S.H.I.E.L.D. employees in the hallways, their thoughts intruding and overlapping with your own.  It took you a moment to realize what it was, what you were doing: unintentionally hearing their thoughts. You have to get away, get out. It’s too loud. You’re still running when you hear more familiar voices, but these aren’t in your head.

You can hear Bucky, Steve and Sam talking about what they found at the base where you were kept. Empty syringes. Medical equipment. Partially encrypted files describing some kind of experiment. They know—how could they not? Have they known this whole time?

“I don’t know what they did to her. She won’t tell me, but…she’s different.” Bucky spoke quietly.

Different? Is that how he saw you now? Is that why he’d been acting so strangely since you got back?

“Look man,” Sam reasoned, “she’s been through a lot. It would be weird if she wasn’t acting differently.”

“Still, if they did do whatever this experiment is on her, we don’t know what the outcome is…If she’s still herself, or even on our side,” Steve added.

Your heart dropped. You already felt like they didn’t trust you, which was bad enough, but now they’re against you? You waited for Bucky to defend you. He knows you better than anyone, but his silence spoke volumes. You thought Bucky, of all people, would understand what you’d been through. That you would never turn on them. You really were all alone in this. You felt the fear and uncertainty pouring out of the room.

Then, an unfamiliar voice on the intercom startled you.

Code Gray- Med Room 4. Code Gray- Med Room 4.

Shit. That was your room. Then the alarm started blaring and you ran. When did you become the enemy? How did this happen? You’re not part of HYDRA. You’re the victim. You managed to get out of the compound without anyone else seeing you. But you had no idea where to go from there.

Bucky, Steve, and Sam rushed to your med room. They stood there in disbelief, taking in the scene. It looks like a bomb went off.

“What the hell happened?” Sam asked.

“We’re not sure, sir. We, uh, heard a scream and when we got here, the room was empty,” a nurse answered.

“Where is she?” Bucky asked, growing impatient.

“We don’t know, I’m sorry,” the nurse responded before quicky leaving the room.

Steve and Sam exchanged looks. Bucky ran his fingers through his hair.

“Buck….”

“No.”

“We need to consider all the facts, here.”

“No, Steve! She wouldn’t do this. She’s not HYDRA.”

“Dude, she was missing for weeks and then just waltzed through the front door? That doesn’t seem odd to you?” Sam added.

“She didn’t waltz, Sam. She could barely walk, then she collapsed,” Bucky defended.

“So you think they just let her go? When the hell has HYDRA ever just let anybody go?”

“I don’t know.”

“Her story isn’t adding up, Buck.”

“They did something to her, she’s different. I just don’t know why she’d hiding it.”

“What do you mean? What aren’t you telling us?” Steve questioned.

“I think….whatever they did to her, worked. I thought it was a coincidence, at first, but then…this,” he motioned around the room. “I think she could hear what I was thinking earlier, and I think this is part of whatever she’s going through. I think she’s enhanced.”

They all looked around the room, letting Bucky’s theory sink it.

Steve broke the silence. “We need to find her before she hurts someone.”

You were walking against the cold wind and found yourself back at the shithole. You weren’t sure what you were doing there. Looking for answers, maybe? Waiting for them to find you? Like they were supposed to do. Before the injections, before they turned on you, before you lost control. What did they think of you now? You’re certain they must think you’re HYDRA. Fear and despair surged through you, and you started to lose control again. Objects that surrounded you started to rattle and lift into the air, crashing into walls.

You saw movement from the corner of your eye, emotions flaring even further. They had found you. Tears streamed down your cheeks, wetting the front of your sweatshirt.  You had already lost everything. They may as well take you now and put you in whatever floating prison they have. They marked you as guilty the moment you walked back into the compound.

“Y/N? Sweetheart, can you hear me?” Bucky approached you slowly, motioning to Steve and Sam to hang back.

You slowly turned to face him. Finally seeing his face broke you, and you started to cry harder. The cot beside you rattled along with desks and shelves, lifting off the floor, quaking violently, erratically. Bucky held up his hands, gesturing to you that he meant you no harm. And you wanted nothing more than to believe him, to melt into his arms.

As your emotions ran wild with fear and anguish, the chaos around you swelled. You shook your head trying to empty it of the intrusive whispers. You were ready to surrender. You just wanted all this to be over, but when you looked past Bucky to see Steve and Sam in their full Avenger gear, a realization hit you. They were here to fight you. Bucky noticed the change in your demeanor. You felt the energy inside you intensifying again. The building began to tremble.

“Y/N. Y/N! Look at me! You’re going to be okay. We’re here to take you home.” Bucky tried to reason.

“No. NO! You’re here to hurt me. You don’t trust me, think I’m HYDRA!”

“That’s not true. We’re your friends. We want to help you,” Bucky insisted.

“Help me? That’s why you brought Captain America and Falcon with you?!”

You were angry now. If they wanted to take you, it would have to be by force. That’s what they wanted. You looked back over at Bucky and noticed the light reflecting off the tears that gathered in his eyes. You felt like you were about to detonate.

“Sweetheart, please,” Bucky pleaded with you; His hand stretched out towards you, beckoning you to take it.

The building shook even more violently with the release of your emotions. Once again, objects cracked and shattered all around you, but this time, the entire building threatened to come down on top of all of you.

“I can’t. I can’t control it….” You looked to Bucky, desperate for all this to end.

As dust and debris rained from the ceiling, you heard the order.

TAKE HER! NOW!

You whipped your head to the side, catching sight of Redwing; you hadn’t noticed it there before, but it was too late. Two darts struck your neck, delivering a powerful sedative. You swayed on your feet for only a moment before going down hard. All the objects flying around the room, uncontrollably, crashed to the ground at once. The building stood still once again. Whatever they hit you with was strong. You couldn’t move, but yet, you weren’t completely unconscious.  You could faintly hear distorted commotion around you and your eyes felt heavy.

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” Bucky kneeled at your side to brush your hair from your face, wiping your tears in the process.

“I’m sorry, Buck. We had to. You heard her. She couldn’t control it.”

Bucky gently picked you up and held you close to his chest. You could tell he was walking, but your vision was starting to blur even more. Then you felt his breath on your ear as he whispered that you would be okay. You were safe now. They were going to fix this. You closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the darkness.

THREE WEEKS LATER

“I don’t want to be a prisoner anymore, Bucky.”

“You’re not a prisoner.”

“Well, I can’t leave. That is the definition of prisoner, right?”

“Bruce thinks he’s close to a cure. He just needs a little more time.”

“You’ve been saying that for 3 weeks.”

Bucky offered you a half-hearted smile, but it was tainted with regret.

You were beginning to doubt their ability to fix you. Where would they even begin? You were just the result of another fucked-up half-assed HYDRA experiment.  They couldn’t cure you any more than they could cure Bucky or Steve of being super-soldiers. You know it. They know it. You just wish they’d stop blowing smoke up your ass.

Just then, Bruce appeared behind the reinforced glass doors, pressing his palm to the scanner to gain access to your room.

He approached your bed with the same half-hearted smile Bucky imparted.

“Hello, Y/N. How are you feeling today?” Bruce began, like he always did when starting his examinations.

“Fine. Normal. How’s the cure coming along?”

He hesitated for a moment, ignoring your question before continuing with his own.

“Any more headaches?”

“No. Not really.”

“Good, good. That’s good.” More hesitation.

“Just spit it out, Bruce.”

“Well, uh..” he fiddled with his clipboard, pretending to review his findings. “We did some genetic profiling and it looks like the experiment has altered your DNA in ways we’ve never seen before. Your brain scans are phenomenal.”

“That’s not exactly comforting….” You knew where this was going, even though you didn’t completely understand the science of it all.

“What does that mean?” Bucky leaned forward in his seat, prompting Dr. Banner to elaborate.

“Well, I’m afraid it means we can’t cure you.”

Bucky leaned back in his chair; the atmosphere in the room deflated. He didn’t even look at you. You knew this was coming but hearing it out loud and seeing Bucky’s dejected reaction only solidified your fears. There is no hope.

Dr. Banner continued, “The good news is that you seem to be adapting and stabilizing well.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You didn’t want to hear anything else. You weren’t even listening. All you can think about is how you’re no longer an Avenger and how Bucky won’t even look at you now. You lost him; your best friend, maybe more. Where do you go from here?

“I just have a few more questions for you,” Dr. Banner began again, “Are you still able to hear the thoughts of others?”

“Yes. But I can mostly block it out. It’s gotten easier.”

Dr. Banner smiled. “And there haven’t been any more incidents….” He held up his pen. “Can you move this towards you, please?”

You looked up from your lap and focused on the pen, gently floating it above the bed until it reached your grasp.

“Amazing…”

You wished Dr. Banner would be a little less enthusiastic. Your life, as you know it, is over and you’re not in the mood for this.

“Okay. I’m releasing you from my care.”

“Wait. What? When?” You stared at him in awe. Is he joking?

“Right now.” He gathered his notes and left the room, door unlocked.

You felt Bucky grasp your hand. His smile was bright as he waited for your thoughts to catch up.

“Come on. We have a mission,” he coaxed.

“I-I don’t understand,” you hesitated. “I didn’t think you wanted---I didn’t think anyone trusted me.”

“Sweetheart, we do trust you…and I’ll always want you. No matter what.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter. “We found the shitbags that took you…you ready to kick some ass?”

Your eyes lit up with excitement and determination. “I was born ready.”

[infoglitch]

I think the reason I connect to Jaune of all characters is because I can relate to the feeling of inadequacy. Ofcourse the character isn't perfect and I get why people just don't like him but I can't agree. Ofcourse that's just a shitty opinion and of course obviously my opinions are garbage. Any way my glazing aside-

Ok I know normally this is a really small (even compared to the shitposts) Rwby shipping post buuut-

A chat

Setting: jaune is currently helping Weiss move into her temporary apartment.

Jaune: hey Weiss?

Weiss turned to look at jaune as she hummed. She held a box in her hands before setting it down a stack of boxes.

Weiss: hmm?

Jaune: if you were sent back in time and put in our beacon, would you still.. you know dislike me during that time?

Weiss: well depends, would it just be me or would all of us be sent back?

Jaune: just you.

Weiss: hmm.. well id certainly still be annoyed with you. But I wouldnt be.. as harsh as my younger self. I would tell you to stop flirting and just try being friendly with me and then see how that goes.

Jaune: huh.. alright then. anything else outside of me?

Weiss: well this ones obvious, tell pyrrha to ask you out. Atleast then I wouldn't be annoyed. And apologize to Blake profusely for a lot of the things I said.. and ofcourse make sure to check in on ruby.

The room went quiet as jaune simply nodded.

Jaune: so-

Weiss: jaune, since you did ask that I think It's only fair that I ask you a question.

Jaune: huh, that seems fair. Fire away.

Weiss turned around fully to face him.

Weiss: if you went back in time.. what would you do?

Jaune: let's see, I would try harder in my classes, I'd have enough with Cardin's bullshit a lot earlier.. and I'd be honest with my team and you guys.. outside of that I'd stop flirting with you.. I got a lot of things I wish I could fix.

Weiss: but obviously.. what's happened, has happened.

Jaune: no going back.

Weiss: speaking of no going back, since we've finished up for today I say we go visit Ruby.

Jaune: alright then, you sure I should come with? It's.. been awhile since me and her actually talked.

Weiss: I think it do you both good.

Jaune just simply nodded as he amd Weiss soon walked out the front door but not before-

Jaune: hey Weiss.. thanks for putting up with me

Weiss: your welcome.. and your not that annoying anymore. Besides, outside of that, your a good friend.

END

When I check to see the reblogs I better see "WE ARE SO BACK" (kidding obviously I'm not that good at writing fics)

..you mothafuckers-

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between: Chapter 20

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: Glen and Gabby enjoy a laid-back evening together, starting with burgers from a cozy local spot near Gabby’s apartment. Their casual dinner transitions into an intimate at-home date night filled with easy conversation and quiet moments of connection that deepen their bond. However, the peaceful night takes an unsettling turn when Gabby receives a late-night phone call from an ex.

Word Count: 7.1k

Warnings: Mild Language (words like "dammit" and other mild profanities), Themes of Emotional Distress (feelings of unease and discomfort related to previous relationships), Discussions of Safety and Boundaries (includes mentions of possible stalking or unwanted contact, which might be sensitive to some readers), Protective Behavior: Glen’s reaction, while supportive, includes heightened emotions and protectiveness that may feel intense for some readers.

A/N: Hey guys! So this chapter has a lot of upbeat, happy moments, and I do love that for Gabby but I also feel like real life and real relationships always have a few bumps so this chapter includes a bump for Gabby and Glen. This chapter does include a slightly different side of Glen than we've seen, but I think I did okay with conveying what he may be thinking or feeling in this situation. As always please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs. I love seeing your thoughts on this story as it progresses!

As they wrapped up their leisurely walk through the park, Gabby’s stomach gave a soft, audible grumble, making her cheeks flush in embarrassment.

Glen, ever attuned to her, chuckled and said, “We should probably eat. Skipping lunch for... other activities wasn’t the most sustainable plan.” His teasing tone made Gabby’s face heat even more, and she swatted playfully at his arm.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested skipping lunch,” she shot back, her lips curling into a smirk despite herself.

Glen raised a brow, a grin appearing on his face. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier when I was-”

Gabby groaned, covering her face with one hand as Glen laughed. “Alright, fine,” she said, peeking at him through her fingers. “I know a great burger place nearby. It’s become one of my favorite spots since moving here.”

“Burgers, huh?” Glen drawled, falling into step beside her as they exited the park. “Sounds perfect!”

“Are you sure…” Gabby teased, tilting her head as if considering something.

Glen grinned and then said "What?" with a chuckle.

"I mean have you seen your abs? Do you even eat burgers?”

He let out an exaggerated gasp this time, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “Now that’s just plain insulting. I’ll have you know I’m very experienced in the fine art of burger eating. Greasy hands and all.”

Gabby giggled, shaking her head at his theatrics. But as they reached the edge of the park and started down the sidewalk, she froze mid-step. “Oh. I forgot my purse back at the apartment.”

“It’s fine,” Glen said with a casual shrug. “I’ve got it.”

“No, no,” Gabby protested quickly, spinning on her heel to head back toward her place. “It’s my turn to buy. We’ll just swing by my place and grab it.”

But before she could take more than a few steps, Glen grabbed her hand, tugging her back toward the direction of the restaurant. 

“Not happening,” he said firmly, his southern drawl soft but resolute.

“Glen—”

“Gabby,” he interrupted, his tone gentle yet teasing as he gave her hand a tug. “I’m covering it. End of discussion.”

“But—”

He shot her a knowing look, his hand tightening around hers as he started leading her down the street. “You can fight me on this all you want, sweetheart, but you’re not going back to the apartment just to grab your purse. Besides, what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pay?”

Gabby groaned, dragging her feet just enough to make a point, though her heart did a little flip at the way he called her sweetheart. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” Glen replied with a wide grin. “But you love it.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, letting him steer her toward the burger joint as her heart warmed at the thoughtfulness behind his insistence.

When they turned the corner onto the street where the burger place was, Gabby groaned softly. Despite the fact it was barely past four in the afternoon, a line had already formed outside, snaking down the sidewalk. 

Glen raised an eyebrow as he took in the scene. “Popular spot, huh?”

“Yeah,” Gabby said with a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s a favorite of mine. It’s a local gem, but word must’ve gotten out. It’s not usually this packed.”

As they got closer, Glen glanced around, his posture shifting ever so slightly. Gabby followed his gaze and noticed a few people in line turning to look in their direction. Most didn’t say anything, but their glances lingered just a little too long, brows furrowing as if trying to place where they’d seen him before.

“Maybe we should get it to go,” Glen suggested, his voice low and calm. “Take it back to your place. Fewer people. Fewer eyes.”

Gabby didn’t hesitate. “Yeah, that works for me.”

But just as she finished speaking, a young woman broke away from the line and walked toward them, her phone already in hand. She was in her early twenties, wearing an oversized sweatshirt and sneakers, her eyes wide with excitement. 

“Oh my God, are you Glen Powell?” she asked, her voice tinged with nervous energy.

Glen offered a polite smile, the kind that came so naturally to him. “I am. Hi.”

“Can I… can I get a picture with you? I’m such a big fan,” she gushed, holding up her phone.

“Of course,” Glen said smoothly, already stepping a little to the side so she could position herself next to him.

Gabby, feeling a bit like an intruder, took a step back, giving them space. The fan snapped a selfie, her face practically glowing as she thanked him profusely.

As she walked back to the line, Glen turned to Gabby, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. He slipped a credit card into her hand, his fingers brushing hers for just a moment. 

“Go ahead and order for us while I handle this,” he said, nodding toward the growing cluster of people who had now started to edge closer, their expressions filled with recognition.

“Are you sure?” Gabby asked, glancing at the credit card and then back at him.

“Yeah,” he said, flashing her a quick grin. “Double burger, no cheese, with everything else, and fries. I’ll meet you inside if I can, or back at your place if I can’t.”

Slipping inside the restaurant, Gabby took a steadying breath. The warm smell of burgers and fries hit her instantly, a comforting contrast to the whirlwind of activity outside. She stepped up to the counter, placed their order, and then stood off to the side, watching through the window as Glen patiently interacted with his fans.

Even as she admired his kindness and easy charm, a small part of her couldn’t help but think about how different her life would look if she stayed in his world. It was thrilling in some ways, but also overwhelming.

As Gabby moved to the side with their order receipt in hand, she glanced out the window again. Glen was surrounded now, a small crowd forming around him as if he were a magnet. His smile never wavered, and he seemed at ease, laughing and chatting with his fans as he signed autographs and posed for photos.

Gabby shifted her gaze, focusing on the cheerful chaos of the restaurant instead. The sizzle of burgers on the griddle and the chatter of diners filled the air, grounding her in the moment. She leaned against the counter, her fingers absentmindedly fidgeting with the corner of the receipt.

She was happy for Glen’s success, for the way he connected with people, but moments like this also reminded her of the unique challenges that came with being close to someone like him.

Before she could dwell on it further, the cashier called her name, sliding a bag of food and two cups across the counter. Gabby grabbed them and headed toward the door, taking one last glance at Glen through the glass.

As Gabby pushed the door open, the warm air greeted her, along with the low murmur of voices blending with the hum of the city. Glen’s unmistakable figure was still surrounded, his broad shoulders towering above most of the fans who had gathered. She lingered just outside the restaurant, holding the bag of food in one hand and balancing the two drinks in the other.

Glen spotted her almost immediately. His eyes softened when they met hers, and for a moment, his signature grin was reserved just for her. He quickly returned his attention to the fans, posing for another picture and signing the back of someone’s phone case.

“Alright, guys,” Glen said, his southern drawl cutting through the chatter. “I hate to run, but I’ve gotta go.”

The crowd let out a mix of disappointed sighs and understanding smiles. “Thank you so much for stopping and saying hi,” he added, his charm in full effect. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to everyone, but maybe next time.”

With a few more quick waves and apologies, Glen excused himself and began making his way toward Gabby. She watched him weave through the small crowd with an effortless ease that never failed to amaze her.

When he reached her, Glen immediately took the two drinks from her hands. “Let me get those,” he said, his voice soft as if they were the only two people on the street.

“Thanks,” she replied, handing them over gratefully.

He glanced at the bag in her other hand. “Got everything?”

Gabby nodded. “Yep, burgers, fries, the works. Just hope it lives up to the hype I gave it.”

They walked in comfortable silence for a moment, the buzz of the city fading into the background. Glen shifted the drinks to one hand and reached for her free one with the other, his fingers intertwining with hers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You didn’t have to cut them off, you know,” Gabby said after a moment, glancing at him.

Glen shrugged, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting. Besides, I don’t mind signing a few things or taking pictures, but I’d rather spend my time with you.”

Gabby’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she squeezed his hand gently. Glen grinned down at her, his expression so genuine it made her chest tighten.

Back at Gabby’s apartment, the comforting smell of grilled burgers and salty fries filled the air as they unpacked their to-go order. Gabby grabbed some napkins from the kitchen while Glen set the drinks down on the coffee table. The cozy familiarity of the space wrapped around them, a quiet sanctuary far from the prying eyes of the world.

She plopped down onto the couch, cross-legged, balancing her burger and fries in her lap. Glen joined her, sitting close enough that their knees brushed. He opened his own burger, the wrapper crinkling in the quiet apartment. For a moment, the only sounds were their contented sighs and the occasional clink of an ice cube in their drinks.

“This is nice,” Gabby said between bites, gesturing vaguely at the room.

Glen chuckled. “A burger on a couch?”

She nudged him playfully with her foot. “Hey, don’t knock it. You’re the one who said this would live up to the hype.”

“And you weren’t wrong,” he admitted, holding up his burger like a toast. “It’s good.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while before Glen set his food aside and leaned back against the couch, his gaze flickering toward her. “You know,” he began, his voice soft, “I’m sorry we don’t get to go on more...real dates.”

Gabby looked up from her fries, her expression thoughtful. “Real dates? Like fancy restaurants and candlelit dinners?”

Glen nodded, a small, sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, something like that. Something...normal.”

She tilted her head, considering his words. “Honestly? I kind of like this better.”

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “Sitting on your couch eating burgers?”

“Exactly.” Gabby smiled, her tone warm. “It’s just...us. No cameras, no crowds, no worrying about what we’re supposed to wear or how we’re supposed to act. Just you, me, and a really good burger.”

Glen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied her. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do,” she replied, her smile softening. “Don’t get me wrong, the idea of you surprising me with some romantic, sweeping date is nice. And we'll get there. Eventually people will find out about us and then we can go out and do stuff together. But this? This feels real. It feels...right. At least for right now.”

A genuine grin spread across Glen’s face, his eyes lighting up. “You’re something else, you know that?”

Gabby shrugged, popping a fry into her mouth. “Yeah, but you like me anyway.”

Glen leaned back against the couch, a laugh rumbling low in his chest. “That I do,” he said, his grin lingering as he glanced at Gabby.

For a moment, he simply watched her. The way she picked up another fry and twirled it idly in her fingers, the light catching the soft curve of her smile, the way her eyes crinkled at the corners when she looked at him. How had he ever gotten so lucky? She was smart and funny, quick with a teasing remark but always knowing when to be gentle. She challenged him in ways that made him want to be better, and somehow, she fit into his life so seamlessly—getting along with his family, handling his whirlwind schedule, and being unbothered by the chaos that came with dating someone like him.

Glen wasn’t sure how long he’d been staring, lost in his thoughts, when Gabby caught his gaze. Her brow furrowed slightly as she tilted her head.

“What?” she asked, reaching for a napkin and swiping it across her mouth. “Do I have ketchup on my face or something?”

That broke his trance, and he chuckled softly, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Then why are you looking at me like that?” she pressed, her tone light but curious as she crumpled the napkin in her hand.

Glen hesitated for a second, feeling a flush of vulnerability rise in his chest, but then he decided to just say it. “I was just thinking about how perfect you are.”

Gabby froze, the fry halfway to her mouth, her eyes widening. “What?”

“You’re perfect,” Glen said, his smile turning softer. “For me, anyway. You’re smart, funny, way too patient with me and my crazy life,” he added with a teasing grin.

Gabby blinked, her face turning a shade pinker as she shifted uncomfortably on the couch. She glanced down at the food in her lap, fiddling with the edge of the wrapper. “I... I don’t know what to say to that,” she admitted, her voice quieter now.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Glen assured her, leaning closer and nudging her knee with his. “I just wanted you to know.”

She lifted her gaze back to his, her lips twitching into a small, shy smile. “I’m not really good at... taking compliments like that,” she confessed.

“I’ve noticed,” Glen said, his tone teasing but fond. He reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I’ll keep giving them anyway.”

Gabby’s cheeks flushed deeper, but the warmth in his voice settled something inside her. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she said, trying to cover her shyness with humor.

“Yeah,” Glen replied, leaning back with a grin. “But you like me anyway.” He added, mocking her earlier words just minutes before.

Her soft laugh filled the space between them, and for a moment, the world felt small and perfect. Just them, a couple of burgers, and a quiet evening in the only place they both wanted to be.

By the time they finished their burgers, the golden light of early evening was spilling through the windows of Gabby’s apartment. Glen stretched his legs out in front of him, his socked feet propped up on the edge of her coffee table. Gabby stood, gathering up their empty wrappers and drink cups, and he couldn’t help but watch her again, this time admiring the ease with which they fit together, even in such an ordinary moment.

“So,” she said as she walked back from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel before tossing it onto the counter. “What now?”

Glen grinned, pulling her down onto the couch beside him. “Now, we watch a movie.”

Gabby raised a brow, settling into the crook of his arm. “Oh yeah? And what cinematic masterpiece are you gracing me with tonight?”

“Masterpiece is a strong word,” Glen teased, reaching for the remote. “But I’ve got one in mind. It’s a classic.”

“Classic as in ‘actual classic,’ or classic as in ‘one of those movies guys insist everyone has to see?’” Gabby asked, her lips quirking into a smirk.

Glen shot her a mock-offended look. “Hey, I have great taste. You’ll thank me for this one.”

Gabby laughed, curling her legs beneath her as Glen pulled up the movie. Her curiosity piqued as the title appeared on the screen. “Wait, you’re kidding,” she said, glancing up at him. “You’ve been telling me to watch this for how long now?”

“Too long,” Glen replied, pressing play. “It’s about time you finally listened to me, and watched it.”

Gabby rolled her eyes playfully but leaned into his side, her head resting against his shoulder as the opening credits began to roll. “This better be good,” she teased, though the warmth in her voice made it clear she was just happy to be there with him.

Glen smiled, draping his arm around her and pulling her closer. “Trust me,” he said softly.

As the movie began, Gabby shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. She tucked her feet beneath her, her knee brushing against Glen’s thigh. He didn’t seem to mind—in fact, he glanced down at her with a soft smile and adjusted his arm around her shoulders to give her more space.

A few minutes in, Gabby felt Glen’s hand begin to absentmindedly trace patterns along her arm. The motion was slow, soothing, and entirely distracting. She tried to focus on the screen, but the warmth of his touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. She glanced up at him, and he gave her a small, knowing smile, as if he was perfectly aware of the effect he was having on her.

“Am I supposed to be watching the movie or getting distracted by you?” she teased, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Can’t it be both?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the curve of her shoulder.

Gabby rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. Instead, she nestled closer, letting her head rest against his chest. His heartbeat was steady beneath her ear, and she let the rhythm lull her into a state of utter contentment.

At some point during a particularly tense scene, Gabby shifted again, wrapping her arm around Glen’s middle. His hand slid from her arm to her waist, pulling her a fraction closer. She felt the press of his lips against her hair—gentle and fleeting, but enough to send her heart fluttering.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Mm-hmm,” she murmured, tilting her head to glance up at him. “Just getting comfortable.”

As the movie played on, Gabby found herself more focused on the little things—like the way Glen’s fingers never stopped moving, tracing idle patterns against her skin, or the way he’d glance down at her with a contented smile whenever she laughed at a particularly funny line.

At one point, when a suspenseful scene had her gripping his shirt without realizing it, he leaned down and whispered, “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just a movie.”

During the two hours of the movie, time slipped away. The movie played on, but for Glen, it wasn’t just about the story on the screen. It was about moments like this—Gabby’s quiet laughter at the funny parts, the way she tensed during the suspenseful scenes, and the little comments she whispered, keeping up her running commentary.

As the credits began to roll, Gabby looked up at him with a satisfied smile. “Okay, I’ll admit it. That was pretty good.”

“Pretty good?” Glen echoed, feigning insult. “That’s all you’ve got?”

“Don’t push it, cowboy,” Gabby teased, patting his chest.

Glen chuckled, dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. “Fine. I’ll take pretty good,” he murmured, his voice low and content.

For a moment, they stayed like that, the world outside quiet and still, as if time had slowed just for them.

The soft glow of the TV illuminated the living room as they lingered on the couch, neither in a rush to move. Outside, the sky had deepened to an inky black, dotted with stars visible even from the city. Gabby sighed contentedly, still leaning against Glen’s chest.

“It’s getting late,” she murmured, tilting her head back to look at him.

“Mm,” Glen agreed, his hand brushing up and down her arm. “Guess I should let you get some rest.”

Gabby hesitated for a beat, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “You don’t have to go,” she said softly, her voice tentative but hopeful.

Glen stilled, his gaze locking with hers. “You want me to stay?”

She nodded, her cheeks warming slightly. “Yeah, I’d like that. If you don’t mind.”

“Gabby,” he said, his voice soft but firm, “there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Her smile widened at his words, and she pushed herself up off the couch, holding out her hand to him. “Come on then,” she said, tugging him to his feet.

Glen followed her down the hall to her bedroom, the space cozy and familiar, just like the rest of her apartment. She flipped on a lamp, casting the room in a warm, golden light.

Gabby opened a drawer and pulled out a spare toothbrush, handing it to Glen with a small smile. “Figured you might need this,” she said, her tone light.

He chuckled, accepting it. “Always so thoughtful.”

They moved through the small routines of getting ready for bed with an ease that surprised Gabby. They stood side by side at the sink, brushing their teeth in companionable silence, the quiet intimacy of the moment grounding them both. Glen caught her gaze in the mirror and wiggled his eyebrows, earning a laugh that made her spit toothpaste into the sink.

She wasn’t used to sharing these intimate, quiet moments with someone else, but with Glen, it felt natural. By the time she returned to the bedroom, he was already there, pulling back the covers on her bed.

“Make yourself at home, why don’t you,” she teased, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.

He smirked, tossing her a playful look. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Gabby rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled at how effortlessly he fit into her space. She slid into bed beside him, pulling the blanket up over her shoulders. Glen turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint glow from the streetlights outside the window.

As they settled, Glen wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breaths.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” he murmured, his voice low in the quiet room.

Gabby tilted her head up to look at him, her expression soft. “Thanks for wanting to.”

Glen pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “Always,” he said simply.

The stillness of the night wrapped around them as they lay there, their breaths evening out in sync. And for the first time in a long while, Gabby felt completely and utterly at peace.

* * * * *

Gabby stirred at the faint vibration of her phone on the nightstand, its soft buzz slicing through the stillness of the room. She blinked, her mind groggy as she reached for it, squinting at the sudden glow of the screen.

Her chest tightened when she saw the words No Caller ID.

She didn’t need to guess. She already knew.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, a cold knot forming in her stomach. She glanced at the time—11:47 p.m.—and sighed, the familiar sinking feeling taking hold. It was late back in Iowa. 2:47 to be exact.

It was Luke, her ex-boyfriend who she had been with for just under two years.

Luke’s late-night drunk calls had started a month after their breakup. They continued for another month before Gabby moved to Los Angeles, and now, six months after the breakup, they were still happening. It had been a few weeks, since the last time he'd called her, but the timing and reason for the call hadn’t changed.

He was drunk—he had to be. He wouldn’t be calling otherwise.

She could practically hear the slur in his voice before she even answered, the overconfident drawl that somehow still got under her skin.

Gabby’s jaw clenched, her body tense as she stared at the screen. She should let it go to voicemail. She knew she should. There was no reason to answer, not anymore. And yet…

Her thumb twitched.

Part of her wanted to pick up, even though she hated herself for it. There was a pull she couldn’t quite explain, like some small, destructive part of her still craved the chaos he brought into her life. Dammit. He always knew when to strike—when she was starting to find her footing, when she was beginning to move on. It was like he could sense it, somehow.

And now, of all times. Just when she’d finally found someone. Not just someone. Glen. Glen, who was still sleeping soundly behind her, his arm draped loosely over her waist, warm and grounding. Glen, who was the polar opposite of the man calling her right now. A stand-up guy who made her feel seen, cared for, safe.

Her heart twisted at the thought. Her ex knew nothing about Glen, but it didn’t matter. It was like he could somehow feel her happiness from a distance and just had to insert himself into it.

The phone buzzed again, insistent and unrelenting. He knew she’d pick up—he was sure of it. And the worst part? He was probably right.

Gabby glanced over her shoulder at Glen, still deeply asleep, his face relaxed in the faint moonlight. Her chest tightened with guilt as she carefully slid out from under his arm, moving as slowly and silently as possible. He shifted slightly but didn’t wake.

Phone in hand, she tiptoed out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her. The living room was dim, the faint glow of streetlights casting long shadows across the walls. She stood there for a moment, staring at the screen.

Her thumb hovered over the green button. She shouldn’t do this. She knew better. But as much as she hated it, a part of her still needed to hear whatever excuse he had this time. Maybe it was closure. Maybe it was habit.

Or maybe it was just him, always knowing exactly how to pull her back in.

Gabby took a deep breath and answered, lifting the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

Gabby pressed the phone to her ear, her heart pounding in the silence. For a moment, she thought he might have hung up. But then she heard it—his voice, low and slurred, dragging her back to a place she never wanted to revisit.

“Gabby.”

It wasn’t a question, just her name, drawn out like a plea.

Her throat tightened. “Why are you calling me at three in the morning?”

There was a pause, a long, heavy silence where she could almost hear him piecing together an answer. Then came the half-hearted, slurred response she’d been expecting. “Sorry.”

It wasn’t sincere. It never was.

Before she could say anything, he kept going, his voice softening, slipping into the tone that used to make her believe him. “I just… I’ve been thinking about you. How’ve you been?”

Her stomach churned. She could already see where this was heading, the same road they’d gone down too many times before. She swallowed hard, gripping the phone tighter. “I’ve been fine,” she said, keeping her voice steady.

“I miss you.” The words hit her like a weight, heavy and unwelcome.

Gabby closed her eyes, a bitter laugh caught in her throat. Of course, he did. He always missed her when he was drunk and alone, when it was convenient for him. She stayed silent, and when he spoke again, his voice cracked just slightly. “When are you coming home?”

Home. The word used to mean something when it came from him, but not anymore. 

Her gaze drifted to the bedroom door, just a few feet away. She thought of Glen, his warmth, his patience, the way he looked at her like she was the only thing that mattered in the world. A man who truly made her feel like she was home when she was with him.

And just like that, she felt it—the weight of all the years she’d wasted on a man who never deserved her. The tether he’d always had on her finally snapped.

“I’m not,” she said, her voice firmer than she expected.

There was a pause, and she could almost hear him processing her words. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m not coming back,” Gabby said, her resolve hardening. “My life is here now. In California. And I’m happy.”

Another silence, this one shorter, sharper. Then he asked, his tone shifting, edged with suspicion, “Are you seeing someone?”

Gabby’s chest tightened. She hesitated, just for a moment, but it was long enough for him to pounce.

“You are, aren’t you?” His voice was rising now, slurred anger bubbling to the surface. “I knew it. You’re lying, Gabby. You’ve got someone else.”

Her grip tightened on the phone as she stared at the closed door, her heart aching with both frustration and determination. Glen didn’t deserve to be dragged into this mess.

A part of her wanted to tell Luke about him—about the man who treated her with care and respect, who made her feel safe and loved in ways Luke never could. She wanted Luke to know that she wasn’t his to control anymore, that she was falling asleep next to someone else, waking up next to someone else, living a life he had no part in.

But she couldn’t. Luke couldn’t find out about Glen—not because she was afraid of Luke, but because of who Glen was. The moment Luke found out that Glen Powell was her boyfriend, he’d latch onto it, twisting it into a storm of anger and jealousy, a storm Glen didn’t deserve to weather. And she wouldn’t let Luke drag him into that chaos.

Glen had given her a new kind of peace, and she wasn’t going to let anyone take it away—not even Luke.

"No. There's no one else," she said sharply, cutting him off with the lie. "I'm just done, Luke."

Saying his name felt like a final step, severing the last thread between them.

He started to speak again, but she didn’t let him. “Don’t call me anymore. I mean it.”

Gabby ended the call with a quiet click, lowering the phone to her lap as the silence of the apartment closed in around her. Her heart was still racing, her mind tangled in a web of thoughts she didn’t want to examine too closely.

Luke’s voice lingered in her ears, even though she wished it wouldn’t. Why now? Why tonight? It was like he knew, somehow, that she’d finally moved on, that she’d finally found someone who treated her the way she’d always deserved.

Glen. Her chest tightened at the thought of him, still asleep in her bed, blissfully unaware of the storm that had just passed through her mind. She didn’t want to disturb him with this, didn’t want Luke’s presence to creep into the sanctuary she was building with Glen.

All she wanted to do was crawl back into the sanctuary of his arms, go back to sleep, and try to forget about Luke. But as much as she wanted to push it all away, Gabby knew she wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep. Not yet. She needed to clear her head first.

Sliding off the couch, she set her phone on the coffee table and grabbed a textbook from the nearby shelf. It wasn’t the most exciting option, but it was something. Something to focus on, something to fill the silence and the space in her mind where Luke’s words had tried to settle.

She flicked on the lamp next to the couch, its soft glow cutting through the darkness, and sat back down. Opening the book to a random page, she tried to focus on the words in front of her. But her thoughts kept wandering back to Luke.

It wasn’t the first time he’d called her like this, and she doubted it would be the last. He somehow always knew how to worm his way back in, to find her weakest moments and exploit them. For a while she had. She’d let him call her and she would talk to him for awhile each time, convincing herself that his late-night calls meant something. That he missed her. That he cared.

But tonight felt different. Tonight, she hadn’t felt the old pull, the old ache to answer his questions and ease his loneliness. Instead, she’d felt… anger. Frustration. Even a little pity.

And when she’d told him she wasn’t coming back, she’d meant it.

Gabby let out a slow breath, leaning her head back against the couch. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she was taking control. Like she was finally closing a door she should have shut a long time ago.

The creak of the bedroom door pulled Gabby from her spiraling thoughts. She looked up as Glen appeared, his hair sticking up in soft tufts from sleep and his shirt rumpled from lying in bed. He rubbed at his eyes as he shuffled toward her, concern already etching into his features when he saw the lamp on and Gabby sitting on the couch.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice husky from sleep. “What’re you doing out here?”

Gabby straightened, quickly closing the textbook and placing it on the coffee table. “Oh, uh, nothing. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Glen’s gaze flicked to her phone on the table, the screen dark now but still holding weight in the silence. “You okay? Did something wake you up?”

She hesitated, then forced a small smile. “Just a spam call. You know how annoying those can be.”

Glen frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. She was avoiding his gaze, her hands fidgeting with the corner of the textbook, and her teeth were tugging at her lower lip—a habit he’d learned she only fell into when she was deep in thought.

“Spam call, huh?” he said, moving to sit beside her. His voice was calm, but there was a note of skepticism in it. “At midnight?”

Gabby glanced at him, then back at her phone, as if debating what to say next. “Yeah. Weird timing, I know.”

Glen tilted his head, watching her carefully. “Gabby.” He reached out, gently placing his hand over hers to still her fidgeting. “What’s going on? Really.”

She sighed, her shoulders sinking under the weight of the question. “It’s nothing…” She trailed off, her voice faltering.

Glen waited, his thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. 

When she didn’t continue, he pressed gently, his tone soft but firm. “It doesn’t seem like nothing. You’re biting your lip, you’re avoiding looking at me, and you’re way too awake for someone who’s ‘just fine.’ Talk to me.”

Gabby hesitated for a long moment, then finally relented, her voice barely above a whisper. “It was… Luke.”

“Who is Luke?”

“My ex.”

Glen’s brow furrowed. “Your ex called you? At midnight?”

She nodded, her gaze fixed on the coffee table. “Yeah. He’s… drunk, I’m sure. He always is when he calls this late.”

Glen sat back slightly, processing her words. “How often does this happen?”

Gabby shrugged, her tone too casual, too dismissive. “I don’t know. Once in a while. It’s not a big deal.”

But Glen wasn’t convinced. “Gabby.” His voice was sharper this time, not with anger but with concern. “How often is ‘once in a while’? Is this the first time? The second? The tenth?”

She sighed again, crossing her arms over her chest. “It doesn’t matter. He’s just… being drunk and stupid. He does this sometimes, but it’s harmless. I don’t answer most of the time.”

Glen’s jaw tightened. “And when you do answer?”

“This time I told him I’m not coming back to Iowa,” Gabby said simply, her voice steady but her gaze distant. “I told him my life is here now.”

Glen exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Okay, but what if he doesn’t get the message? What if he keeps calling? Or worse—what if he shows up here?”

Gabby shook her head, her tone soft but resolute. “He won’t. He’s not… like that.”

“How do you know that?” Glen asked, his voice dropping to a low, measured tone that carried an edge of barely-contained tension. He reached up and ran a hand through his hair as he stood and began to pace in front of her couch.

Gabby frowned, watching him. “Glen—”

“No.” He turned to her, his expression serious, almost angry, but not at her—never at her. “This isn’t okay. Him calling you in the middle of the night like this. It’s not normal.”

She bit her lip, unsure how to respond, but Glen wasn’t finished. He took a step closer, his voice still steady but tinged with urgency. “What if he’s not just calling? What if he decides to come out here and try to talk to you in person? Do you know how easily that could happen? Or what he might do if you don’t give him the answer he wants?”

“Glen, he’s not like that,” she insisted softly, though even she didn’t sound entirely convinced. "He wouldn't hurt me."

“You don’t know that,” Glen said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers. “You don’t know what someone’s capable of when they think they’re losing control. And the fact that you didn’t tell me this has been happening before tonight?” He shook his head, his frustration clear, though his voice softened as he added, “I wish you would’ve told me sooner, Gabby.”

Her defenses faltered under the weight of his concern. She crossed her arms, hugging herself as she looked down. “I know. I should’ve. I just… I didn’t want to make it a big deal. I thought I could handle it on my own.”

Glen’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and when he spoke again, his tone was gentler but no less resolute. “You shouldn’t have to handle this on your own. You don’t have to handle this on your own.”

She finally looked up at him, her voice barely above a whisper. “I know.”

Glen stepped closer, his hands resting on her knees as he kneeled down in front of her. “Gabby, this… this is serious.”

Her breath caught, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I don’t want you to worry about me, Glen.”

“That’s not how it works,” he said, his voice softening even more. “When you care about someone, you worry about them. And I care about you, Gabby. More than I can even put into words.”

For a moment, the weight of his words hung in the air between them. Then, he gently cupped her face, his thumbs brushing lightly along her cheeks. “Please block his number. Tonight. Promise me.”

She nodded, leaning into his touch. “Okay. I promise.”

Glen exhaled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders as he kissed her forehead. “Thank you. And if he tries to contact you again—anything at all—you tell me. No more keeping this to yourself, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice steady but her heart full.

Glen pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, and then he stood up, holding a hand out to her. “Come here,” he said softly.

Gabby hesitated for only a second before placing her hand in his. He gently tugged her to her feet and into his arms, wrapping them securely around her. The tension that had been simmering between them seemed to melt away as he held her close, one hand resting on the small of her back while the other cradled the back of her head. He kissed the top of her head, lingering there for a moment, and she leaned into him, her head resting against his chest as she wrapped her arms tightly around his waist.

“I’m sorry for getting upset,” Glen murmured, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “I didn’t mean to come off like that. I just… I care about you so much, Gabby. More than I can explain. And the thought of something happening to you—it drives me crazy.”

Her arms tightened around him in response, and she tilted her head just enough to look up at him. “I know. And I get it, Glen. I really do.”

Gabby closed her eyes and let herself relax completely in his arms, letting the warmth of his words and the strength of his embrace settle the unease that Luke’s call had stirred in her. For the first time since the call had woken her up, she felt a sense of peace she hadn’t realized she was craving—a peace that only Glen seemed to bring her.

[astrojulia]

How can I use astrology to find an ideal career for me?

Astrology and Career: Discover Your Cosmic Sea to Success

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career [ kuh-reer ] noun an occupation or profession, especially one requiring special training, followed as one's lifework: a person's progress or general course of action through life or through a phase of life, as in some profession or undertaking

We have several details to talk about how astrology can help us find our ideal profession and we use what we have in our power to strengthen ourselves and self-knowledge.

Planets

Career as we saw earlier is not just work and your job, it encompasses many things in your life as it is something that takes many years, so all planets show something related to your career.

Sun: The radiant center of our being, revealing our mission, identity, and values. It guides us towards the areas where we seek recognition and how we can contribute to society.

Moon: Reflecting our emotional desires and commitments, the Moon unveils our preferences for a comfortable and nurturing work environment.

Mercury: The realm of analytical skills and communication, Mercury highlights areas where our rational thinking aids and supports us, making tasks easier and efficient.

Venus: Governing our ability to forge relationships and be adored, Venus unveils our potential to sell products or ideas, how others perceive us, and how we can add value.

Mars: The driving force behind our desires and motivations, Mars indicates where we can find energy, passion, and determination to propel us forward.

Ascendant: The extra personal talent, exclusive to each individual, offers a distinct insight into your inherent abilities and potential.

Elements and Modalities

It can be used for each planet (it won't be so detailed, if you want me to talk about each one, like or reblog to show that you are interested in the subject...), but it is used to see the dominant modality and element in the natal chart.

Earth: Seeking security and practicality, Earth signs are adept at managing and structuring tasks, valuing their products and presenting their true worth.

Water: Emotionally driven, Water signs thrive in environments that foster connection and love, often leading to careers where care and bonding are vital.

Air: Driven by intellectual pursuits and interaction with people, Air signs flourish in professions that require intelligence and daily engagement of their diverse skills.

Fire: The passion and drive of Fire signs lead them towards pioneering roles and highly recognized positions, necessitating dynamic and energetic environments.

Cardinal: Initiators and independent spirits, Cardinal signs embrace challenges and take the lead in manifesting their intentions.

Fixed: Penchant for control and security, Fixed signs passionately pursue their interests and maintain unwavering dedication.

Mutable: Embracing change and creativity, Mutable signs excel in professions that allow flexibility and unconventional approaches.

Now... I know that you want career paths you can work on, but I first showed you how you can understand what are your needs and strengths before giving professions because I think it's more important for you to know your needs than to think "wow, look, my natal chart tells me to be a doctor, I think I'll drop everything to do medicine"

How to know if you do well in this career??

1º Way: Identify the ruling planets of the earth houses: 2nd (work and money), 6th (job and routine), and 10th (career) house. Then, determine which house the ruling planet of this house is in. Next, refer to the list below and check if there's a career you like associated with that house. For example, my 2nd ruling planet is in Taurus, and my Venus is in the 5th. Therefore, I'll explore professions related to LEO/FIFTH HOUSE.

2º Way: Identify the career sign you are most interested in. Find the ruling planet of that sign and see if it corresponds to the 2nd,6th or 10th in your birth chart. For instance, I'm interested in reading tarot cards, so I'll check the position of my Pluto (ruler of the 8th). As it's in my 10th, tarot card reading could be a good career choice for me.

3º Way: Identify the planets that fall in your 2nd, 6th and 10th houses and see directly the professions it represents, knowing that in terms of CAREER, the 10th house is more important. So if I have no planets in the 2nd, Venus in the 6th and none in the 10th, I see the carrers that are represented by Venus.

Signs/Houses

ARIES / FIRST HOUSE- athletics, entrepreneurship, leadership, military, police, firefighter, lifeguards, surgeries, creating something, competitive careers …

TAURUS/ SECOND HOUSE - Plastic arts, dressing rooms, painting, things related to food, finance, massage therapy and well-being, services that involve giving a pleasant experience to others, aesthetics.

GEMINI / THIRD HOUSE - writing, journalism, communication, teaching, advertising, libraries, representatives, assistance, performance, things related to organization, information management, research …

CANCER / FOURTH HOUSE - medicine, nursing, veterinary, work that involves taking care of the home and decoration, so also architecture, work that involves taking care of things, restoration, photography, painting, music, art, crafts, accommodation, doula, public offices , trade in household items, babysitting and professions that involve taking care of children, providing services to people in situations of vulnerability, first sector...

LEO/ FIFTH HOUSE- Leader, work related to the government, work related to money and luxury items, work related to leisure and hospitality, entrepreneurship, social networks, presenters of all media, blogs, theater, dance, music, arts in general , directors of artistic projects, cinema, events, fashion, design …

VIRGO / SIXTH HOUSE - Personal organizer (it is the most virgo job in the world), assistance to someone virtual or in person, secretary, work related to organization and analysis, work related to health such as nursing, medicine, pharmacy, work related to mathematics and to money like accounting, librarian, writing, therapy, informatics …

LIBRA / SEVENTH HOUSE - Advocacy, justice, diplomacy, arts, aesthetics, fashion, architecture focused on decoration and beauty, sales, high quality and refined products, design, work related to people …

SCORPIO / EIGHT HOUSE - psychiatry, medicine, psychology, police, military, research, astrology, works related to people who died as gravediggers and doctors who do autopsy, spirituality and the occult, coach, investments, administration, politics, research in any field. ..

SAGITTARIUS / NINTH HOUSE - Politics, justice, diplomacy, tourism, religion, teaching a higher education course, teaching wisdom, philosophers, careers related to foreign countries, foreign trade, sports, careers involving recreational activities, careers with more playful areas such as theater, dance and circus, astrology.

CAPRICORN / TENTH HOUSE - Management and entrepreneurship, CEO, engineering and areas that use mathematics, construction, land-related jobs and projects for places or businesses, management, jobs that involve preparing something like a director developing a play or a project , producers. . .

AQUARIUS / ELEVENTH HOUSE - Science, astrology, everything related to technology, information technology, social media, TV and radio, politics, social projects, social sciences, social causes and social assistance (very social this sign), projects humanitarian and altruistic, demonstration and mobilization of people, jobs that aim to revolutionize and change society and the way people live their lives …

PISCES/ TWELVE HOUSE - Psychology, music, theater, crafts, spirituality, therapy, holistic therapy, careers that involve helping others and social causes, work related to hospitals, nursing and caring for others, jobs that help people who have some kind of neurological imbalance or older people or who are on the margins of society in some way.

Planets

Sun: The Sun empowers individuals to take on leadership roles and excel in careers related to the government, money, luxury items, leisure, and hospitality industries. The Sun's radiant energy blesses entrepreneurs, social network influencers, media presenters, bloggers, artists in various forms (theater, dance, music, and arts), directors of artistic projects, cinema, events, and professionals in fashion and design.

Moon: The nurturing influence of Moon shines upon careers in medicine, nursing, veterinary, nutrition, and professions involving home care, decoration, and architecture. Lua's caring nature extends to jobs that involve restoration, photography, painting, music, art, crafts, hosting, doula work, public office, commerce of household goods, nannies, and roles providing services to vulnerable individuals, especially in the first sector, as well as culinary arts and cooking.

Mercury: The intellectual prowess of Mercury guides individuals towards careers in information technology, writing, journalism, communication, teaching, advertising, libraries, and as representatives. Mercury's sharp mind is well-suited for roles as personal organizers, virtual or face-to-face assistants, secretaries, and professionals in the pharmacy sector. Additionally, Mercury's association with mathematics and money makes it relevant in accounting, librarianship, writing, and computing.

Venus: The artistic and harmonious energy of Venus blesses individuals in careers related to plastic arts, fitting rooms, painting, and the culinary arts. Venus finds fulfillment in professions associated with food, finance, massage therapy, well-being, aesthetics, law, justice, diplomacy, fashion, and architecture focused on decoration and beauty. Venus also thrives in sales, dealing with high-quality products, design, and people-related work.

Mars: The bold and assertive influence of Mars directs individuals towards careers in athletics, entrepreneurship, leadership, military, police, firefighting, lifeguarding, surgery, and any field that requires competitive spirit and a drive to create something remarkable. Mars also finds expression in careers related to medicine.

Jupiter: Jupiter's expansive and benevolent energy inspires careers in politics, justice, diplomacy, tourism, religion, higher education, teaching wisdom, and philosophy. Jupiter's connection to foreign trade and astrology adds depth to careers related to these fields.

Saturn: The disciplined and structured influence of Saturn leads individuals towards careers in administration, entrepreneurship, CEO positions, engineering, and areas that involve mathematics. Saturn's expertise in construction and project management makes it valuable in various roles, including those of directors and producers.

Uranus: The innovative and revolutionary spirit of Uranus shines upon careers in science, technology, social media, politics, NGOs, social projects, and humanitarian efforts. Uranus is also influential in social sciences, social causes, and careers that involve social assistance, aiming to transform and uplift society.

Neptune: Neptune's compassionate and spiritual essence guides individuals towards careers in psychology, music, theater, crafts, spirituality, therapy, and holistic therapy. Neptune finds fulfillment in professions that involve helping others and social causes, particularly in healthcare settings. Jobs linked to hospitals, nursing, and care for others resonate with Neptune's healing energy.

Pluto: The transformative and powerful influence of Pluto leads individuals towards careers in psychiatry, medicine, psychology, investigation, astrology, spirituality, occultism, coaching, investment, administration, politics, and scientific research. Pluto's connection to matters of life and death makes it relevant in fields such as gravedigging and forensic medicine, while its association with transformation and marketing adds depth to careers in the marketing industry.

Julia's Special Note

I enjoy helping people, so let me share a unique insight that you won't find anywhere else. Jupiter and Saturn play significant roles in determining our value in both personal and societal contexts. Jupiter represents the value that society places on us, while Saturn signifies the value we place on ourselves in relation to society. In short, these two planets can reveal insights into your salary and financial gains in your profession. The key aspect here is their conjunction. For many years, Jupiter and Saturn have been meeting in earth signs, indicating a strong emphasis on material values, productivity, and tangible outcomes. This means that society has highly valued material success, productivity, and practical skills. However, over the next 200 years, they will conjoin in air signs, signaling a shift in societal values. The focus will move towards knowledge, expertise, teaching abilities, effective communication, and the dissemination of information. In this new era, what garners a good salary today may no longer hold the same value in 200 years. Thus, it won't matter so much what profession you have, but rather, the greatest differentiating factor for achieving good financial gains will be how much you know and specialize in your chosen field, rather than just how much you produce.

(CC) AstroJulia Some Rights Reserved

[honeytabbies]

OKAY. HERE WE GO. my black bulls doggies!!!! :D

there's definitely a noticeable difference in style/quality of some of these just due to time between each design and/or how i was feeling at the time of drawing them (these hot and rainy summer months have been super rough on me)

ALSO they were all done symmetrically so that i wouldn't burn out and could actually finish them LOL . OK EVERYBODY BELOW

starting off with asta, a husky/coyote mutt!! :D in my au, devil users end up becoming hybrids of whatever their devil is. so since liebe is a coyote, that's what asta is too!! (also, i haven't drawn him yet, but yuno is a malamute :D similar looking breeds but different since they're not actually related!)

(here's liebe too hehe, scrappy lil coyote!!)

then of course, noelle, who's a saluki!! a very regal breed for a very royal gal!! i thought making her pigtails into her ears was a fun idea HEHEHE

(+ an alternate design version!)

here's finral, he's a shetland sheepdog!! gentle and sweet and always trying to herd his people together :) you might notice that with some of my designs, i end up doing extra scarring; that's usually just personal headcanons, as i think some injuries would be too grievous to fully heal. though some (for instance, gauche) don't have a canon story behind them, i just think they're fitting

vanessa, who's a cavalier king charles spaniel!! her ears sorta blend into her hair lol, i had an alternate version where they were the same darker brown as her fur but i decided that them blending in looked better and fit the breed standard as well.

gauche, the ever wary american akita!! being a fiercely loyal and protective breed, but aloof and suspicious of strangers.

then there's grey, who's a long-haired chihuahua!! sweet and skittish HEHE, also i haven't drawn it yet but i've always imagined her big transformation disguise that she's first introduced as to be a rottweiler LOL

next up is luck, a jack russell terrier!! i've always thought this was a very fitting breed pick, intelligent but highly energetic and a little mischievous !!!

and of course, magna is never far behind luck; he's a dobermann pinscher!! similar to luck in energy and intelligence, but even more fiercely protective of his loved ones.

GORDON!!! actually one of my favourite black clover characters, he's a dalmatian not only because of the fitting aesthetic, but also because of his kind and sensitive personality!

the masked supermage zora, a german shepherd! watchful and sometimes stubborn but loyal nonetheless made this pick fairly easy to come to. though, before getting to see more of him, my initial pick was actually a kai ken!

charmy's design is one that i'm the most proud of for sure; i mentioned in an earlier post that the different peoples are different species of animals. well charmy is a half toy poodle, half american badger!! i thought a badger was a VERY fitting pick, as they are generally unbothered by much unless their food is threatened LOL

and finally, lastly (for now) is nero!! she's a bull terrier, but i really wanted to keep her twin tails from her anti-bird form! her outfit is definitely the one i edited the most, i just wanted to give her something more practical out of personal preference.

additionally, henry is an old english sheepdog, nacht is a black norwegian elkhound/fox, and yami is a wolfdog!

I HAVE SOME OTHER CHARACTERS DOODLED HERE AND THERE but nothing else really finished yet. if there's a specific character anyone would like to see i would be SO happy to draw/doodle them to show off!! i honestly have a huge list of dog/cat breeds picked out for every character i could think of; i just am hellishly indecisive and can never pick who to start on next AHDSJAGDJSDK

THE POSITIVE RECEPTION TO MY ART SO FAR HAS MADE ME SO HAPPY BTW AUAGGHHH i have no idea how/if im able to reply to people directly but just know that i keep reading over everyone's reblog tags and stimming like crazy IM SO HAPPY THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH AUHGHFEHGGRH