#they WILL take a mile and threaten you when you suddenly want your life and days off back

[little-klng]

landlords are parasites but i think nothing convinces me of that more than the sheer number of times my landlords have asked me, often repeatedly/every time i see them, to come over and spend hours in their house doing their housework for them, and either guilt trip me the entire time im saying no, or straight up threaten my shelter security for saying no. like i dont think ive ever had a landlord that didnt at least try a couple times to force me to do free housework for them

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - unhealthy relationships, obsessive behavior, somnophilia, implied non/con, mentions of knots.

Puppy!Yuuta, who catches your eye the second you step into the shelter, despite the fact that he’s not at all what you were looking for. You need a service animal, and as cruel as it feels to say, hybrids of undeterminable origins with less-than-stellar past homes aren’t known to be very consistent, let alone trainable when it comes to such a high-stakes job. You were supposed to meet a pure-bred, highly recommended husky hybrid whose previous owner was no longer able to take care of him, but it was over for you as soon as you saw those big, dark, watery eyes – nearly hidden entirely by overgrown hair and jet-black ears that seemed to droop even lower whenever you threatened to look away from him. You’re already a lost cause by the time you ask a shelter employee for his name, and the paperwork’s signed within the hour. He leaves with you the same day, eyes on the ground and tail wagging a mile a minute.

Puppy!Yuuta, who was always meant to be someone's spoiled pet. He's shy, at first, scared to talk too loudly or cling too tightly or do anything that'll get him sent back to the shelter (no matter how clear you make it that that's a non-option), but it only takes him a few days to warm up to you, a couple weeks to come out of his shell, just under a month to start sleeping in your bed and trailing you around your apartment. He almost trips over himself when you ask if he'd like to wear a collar, and soon enough, he's more akin to a second-shadow than a dog. He does have some aggression issues, particularly when it comes to human men, but he's an angel with other hybrids, and when he bows his head and pouts, you really can't help but forgive him. With a life like the one he must've had, you can't really blame him for being so quick to bear his teeth.

Puppy!Yuuta, who's more than ecstatic when you mention still needing a service animal. He might not be qualified on paper, sure, but he's already constantly at your side, constantly worrying about you - it'd just feel wrong to go out and get another hybrid for a job Yuuta is more than capable of. He says he likes that idea of being able to take care of you, too - like you take care of him. You want to ask him not to be so sappy, to think of a slightly less sentimental way to say it, but when he's so happy and so, so proud of himself, it's hard to be even that strict.

Puppy!Yuuta, who cums untouched the first time you comb your fingers through his hair. You don't seem to notice, and he does his best to hide his face in your lap, to bite back the little, pathetic whimpers that crawl up his throat whenever you scratch at the base of his ears. He doesn't want to scare you, to be so needy so suddenly when you've been so kind.

Puppy!Yuuta, whose one and only flaw is that he can't seem to stop riffling through your dirty laundry. He can't be left alone for more than an hour without stealing one of your oldest, most threadbare shirts or worse, claiming a pair of your underwear as his newest chew-toy. You really should chastise him for it, but it's such an awkward thing to talk about, and he has such a sweet face - it's hard to believe he could ever do anything deliberately wrong. You've resigned yourself to just trying to limit the damage and salvage the less damaged items, even if those mysterious stains are a little hard to get out.

Puppy!Yuuta, who wishes he didn't have such a big, bulky knot. It's too thick and too heavy and seems to swell up whenever he gets even a little hard. If he didn't have a knot, he'd be able to actually thrust into you, rather than just fucking his fist over your sleeping body and imagining how tight you'd be, how pretty you'd look, how nice it would be to make you feel as warm and as soft as he feels because of you. He does what he can with his tongue, but you don't seem to like waking up with his saliva soaking everything between your thighs, and he always gets too excited when he tastes you. If he has to rut against your thigh that desperately again, he's afraid you might wake up and scold him.

Puppy!Yuuta, who can't wait until he works up the courage to mate with you properly. He knows it's still too soon, that it'd scare you to do it so abruptly, that he doesn't deserve it yet, but soon, he'll be able to to step up and take care of you as something more than just a pet. He's not there right now, but one day, he just knows he'll be the perfect mate for you <3

[dixons-sunshine]

A Risk | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an attempt to hide from a herd, Daryl sought cover in an abandoned cabin. However, he stumbled across a woman that threatened him, and he soon figured out that there was more to her than meets the eye.

Era: Prison, pre season four.

Warnings: Swearing, allusions to near death, walkers.

Word count: 1k.

A/N: Requested by @nikkicloudie. I hope you like this!

“I said: Lower. Your. Fucking. Weapon.”

Against his better judgement, Daryl slowly and hesitantly lowered his crossbow, allowing it to drop to the floor with a dull clink. Once his beloved crossbow was out of his grasp, he raised his hands above his head in surrender.

“I ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, lady,” Daryl spoke up, his ocean-coloured eyes flickering between the gun in your grasp and your face. He was searching for any change in your demeanour, for any sign that you would attack. “Jus’ passin’ through. M’hidin’ from that herd that’s ‘bout two miles from here. M’waitin’ ‘em out.”

Daryl could see the contemplation on your face. With a mere glance at your face, and the way your grip slightly loosened around the gun, the archer knew he was not in any immediate danger. However, he still did not let his guard down. Perhaps you were a master of deception, and you were simply playing him. He did not want to risk it.

“Go.” you finally voiced after a good while of silence. “There’s another cabin about a mile up from here. If you leave now, you’ll make it before the herd gets here.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head. “Nah. I ain’t riskin’ it. M’not leavin’.”

“Well that’s too damn bad, buckaroo,” you retorted, your gun being raised and aimed at him once more. “I’m not about to risk my s—my life for some stranger. Leave, or I’ll shoot you, I swear to god.”

“Listen, lady. I ain’t—”

Before Daryl could finish his sentence, a loud crash came from another room, followed by a cry. Was he going insane, or did that sound like a little kid? However, before Daryl could do anything, you turned around and bolted towards the source of the sound.

With a frown, Daryl picked up his crossbow and slowly walked towards the room you had disappeared into. He raised his weapon, fully prepared for an attack, but the sight that beheld him had him stopping in his tracks.

A walker laid dead by the window. You were down on your knees, your gun discarded a few feet away from you, and in your embrace was a little boy; the little boy looked no older than three years old. Suddenly, it all made sense to him. The new world gave everyone all the reasons to be extremely defensive, but you had another reason. You had someone you wanted, needed to keep safe.

Your eyes flickered up to meet Daryl’s, and the archer could clearly see how glassy they had become. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that the little boy had almost been that walker’s next meal. If you had not appeared when you had… Daryl did not even want to finish that thought.

“You’re okay, Chris. I got you, Baby. Mama’s got you,” you murmured to the little boy in your arms. You gently picked him up as you raised from the floor and allowed him to bury his face into your neck, his quiet whimpers and sniffles being muffled. You looked back at Daryl, your expression less guarded, but more broken.

At that moment, Daryl had already made up his mind. You were clearly just a mom trying to defend her son from the harsh reality that was the world outside, and you had viewed Daryl as a potential threat, and you had every right to be wary of him. He supposed he did not look like the most warm, inviting person ever, and he definitely did not blame you for wanting him as far away from your son as humanly possible.

“M’from a place not too far from here,” Daryl spoke up after a few moments of contemplating his options. He continued when he noticed he had your full attention. “S’a prison that we converted into a community. It’s safe and secure, with ‘bout fifty people walkin’ around and makin’ due.”

“Is that an offer?” you inquired, your hand rubbing soothing circles over your son’s back. “I mean, I just threatened to kill you.”

Daryl shrugged and slung his crossbow over his shoulder. “I would’ve been more terrified of ya if ya didn’t point yer gun at me, considerin’ the world we live in now.” Daryl’s lips involuntarily twitched into a small smile when he heard your light chuckle. “I only have three questions for ya, though.”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Sure. Shoot.”

“How many walkers have ya killed?” he began, studying your expression closely.

It was your turn to shrug. “I don’t know. A lot.”

“How many people have ya killed?”

A small beat of silence passed. “One.”

“Why?”

“Because I wasn’t about to allow him to kill my son.”

Your answers were more than sufficient, considering the questions you were being asked. He was about to say something, until he heard groaning coming from outside. He ushered you down, and quickly sprung into action. He closed the window and lowered himself down against the wall, right next to you. He turned his head to look at you, and saw how you quietly tried to shush your son, who had started fussing once he picked up on the shift in the mood.

“Mama,” he whimpered, instantly being shushed by you.

“It’s okay, Baby. Shh. It’ll be over soon, okay?” You turned your head and looked at Daryl, your expression desperate. “I don’t know if what you’re saying is true or not, but I can’t live like this anymore.” For added emphasis, you motioned towards the window, where dozens of walkers were walking past. “My son isn’t safe like this. Your offer is just a risk I have to take.”

Daryl nodded. “I know ya dun’ trust me, but I’d never endanger yer lil’ one like that. Ya have my word on that.”

A few beats of silence passed. “I’m Y/N, by the way. This is Chris.”

“Daryl,” Daryl told you. “M’Daryl. And I promise m’gon’ make sure ya get yer lil’ boy to safety. Ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to him.”

[eudaimaniacs]

quite an animal (logan howlett x female reader)

warning/s: dead dove do not eat, noncon, implied earlier noncon, mentions of kidnapping, etc. please proceed with caution.

You don't know how long you have been running away from him. Logan. The crazed man who took you a month ago, promising he would take care of you. If taking care means getting constantly hit by beer bottles, almost killed by his claws, and servicing him, then you're well taken care of.

You've had enough of Logan's abusive grip on you. So, you waited for the perfect time to escape this place you deemed hell. Logan would go out to buy some groceries by himself since he doesn't trust you going with him. You didn't attempt to escape before since you wanted to catch him off guard. You packed the little things Logan hadn't destroyed when he brought you to the cabin. You stole some money he had hidden and waited for your kidnapper to be far away.

The freedom you had wished for ever since greeted you when you opened the door. When you took your first step, you have never felt this happy. With your bag at the side, you began walking through the vast forest to escape this demented place.

After treading for about seven minutes, you finally saw the road. You smiled and thanked whatever divine being blessed you with this opportunity. You were free. You didn't have to suffer Logan's tight grip on you anymore. A few more miles and you could taste the sweet-

"Princess, what are you doing?"

Your body shook at the deep voice calling your attention. The universe had betrayed you, like a blunt knife getting sharp at the last minute and stabbing you in the heart. You didn't dare to face Logan. You didn't want to see his face or feel his presence.

"I asked you something, princess. What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?" The grumpy man continued to question and make you more vulnerable.

You don't know if it's instinct or the desire to escape Logan, but you start running. You felt your eyes building up water as the reality dawned on you. Logan was keeping you here no matter what. He's going to use every method to cage you here forever.

The forest seems enormous now that you're in a life-or-death situation. The trees were never-ending, and there was no sign that you would get out anytime soon. You heard the heavy footprints of Logan chasing you. You didn't look back and see the furious, animalistic look he had. He didn't scream your name or command you to do anything.

He was catching up to your slow, almost tired running. You didn't bother to hold a weapon near you since defeating Logan was nearly impossible. Your legs were burning from the endless running. You wanted to give up, but the price of your freedom relied on it.

Your curiosity kills you as you dare to look at Logan behind you. He was fuming. His claws were out, and he discarded the flannel he wore earlier. Logan was determined to get you back. He looked like a predator hungry for prey.

As you focus on the path before you, a large rock suddenly makes you lose balance. You yelped at the force tripping you to the ground. You tried getting back up but felt Logan's foot stomping your back. You cried at the reality of not escaping this hell hole anytime soon.

"L-Logan, please, I'm s-s-sorry!" You pleaded to the feral man above you. He growled and turned you to face him. You went wide-eyed as you heard him huffing and threatening you with his metal claws.

Logan grunted and scolded you, "You escaped, [Y/N]. I won't show you any mercy even when we're in the middle of the forest." Before you can beg for forgiveness again, his claws rip the sheer dress that offered you little protection. You cried out and tried stopping Logan from doing this to you.

He hungrily bit and kissed your neck as he unbuckled his pants. The angry penis aroused by your attempt to escape him. You shook your head and promised that you wouldn't do that again. Your endless whines annoyed Logan, so he grabbed your neck to shut you up.

Without warning, his large member entered you, making you scratch his arm to fight him with little effect. Your voice was weakening as you pleaded and begged him to stop. However, Logan was an animal and chased his pleasure at the expense of hurting you. Your body betrayed you more as you felt your pussy hugging him tighter.

"You can't deny me, princess. Your wet pussy is so fucking tight. It's a perfect match for me," Logan groaned as he quickened his pace. You close your eyes, hoping you'll wake up from this nightmare. A monster taking advantage of you in the forest he held you captive in. You prayed to the gods to rescue you from this hell.

You felt your stomach twisting, indicating that you were close. Logan smirked as he saw the imprint of his cock on your stomach. You let out a weak moan that you didn't bother to suppress. After all, Logan won over your body even if your mind tried to disagree.

His thrusts falter as your orgasm crashes over you. You want to sleep and try to forget everything when you wake up. You knew you were returning to the cabin where you would live with an animal for the rest of your life. Logan retracted his claws and stayed inside of you, making sure that every drop of his cum painted your walls.

Like a switch, Logan suddenly became warm and softly whispered, "I'm going to clean you up, princess. Let's cuddle and eat something at the cabin." He kissed your forehead and carried you. Like a predator bringing his prey back to his cave, you surrendered and embraced Logan's sweetness. You weakly hold his chest, seeking comfort at the man who had and will always violate you.

eudaimaniacs - 2024

[hijackalx]

Headcanon thingy, but how would the companions + Gortash react to their lover taking a blow meant for them? (Sweetheart survives, but they'll definitely need some time to recover)

this post would get realllyyyy long if i did all the companions so i did the male companions + gortash, but let me know if u want me to do a separate one for the female companions too 💗💗

GN!reader, small mentions of violence

GORTASH

he’d prefer for you steer clear of any conflict— he considers it beneath you to get your hands dirty— but he doesn’t like to argue. he imagines one of these times you’ll learn your lesson, meaning he’s fully expecting you to come crawling back after a good whooping while promising to never do it again

when he’s approached by an angry subordinate, shaking their fist and yelling profanities at him, he easily maintains composure— he knows his steel watch could reduce anyone to a skid mark on the earth with a simple command. his scrappy sidekick however…………… 👹

he’s only slightly embarrassed when you jump in front of the aggressor, telling them off for their disrespect. suddenly their anger is directed towards you, resulting in a nasty pop to the face that sends you onto the floor. his eyes widen at the sight of you injured for his sake, and with one sharp inhale, he orders his steel watch to destroy your attacker. (and their family. and their friends. and their acquaintances)

he stays at your side while you get bandaged up, threatening the healer’s life every time you wince. he asks what you learned from this experience, hopeful. you think “i need a thicker skull�� probably wasn’t the right answer, seeing as his immediate response is “🗿” LMAO

WYLL

he loves to be the one who swoops in and saves you. it really gives him that “heroic” feeling (even if you have to pretend to be his damsel in distress). you guys are always giving your enemies the ick 😹😹

this all goes to his head though, and he can get a little too cocky— like when he jumps in to take on too many enemies at once, and is clearly having a hard time defending you both. he tries to maintain his heroic persona, but you can’t help noticing how you two are getting backed into a corner

while he’s distracted and putting on a show of chivalry, you see an enemy going straight for his blind spot. it’s too late to retaliate, but you do have enough time to jump out in front of the attack. he watches you fall to the ground in pain, HORRIFIED by the fact that he failed to protect you. he forgets his knightly act in a fit of desperation, fighting as dirty as he needs to so you two have the opportunity to scamper away

he criticizes himself SO badly over your injuries. the hit may have broke your face but his failure broke his soul... 💔 LMFAO. he vows to you that it’ll never happen again, and that he’ll be more vigilant than ever from then on out— cue his extremely rigorous and inspirational training montage

GALE

he usually stays toward the rear during battle, using long range magic attacks while you take care of things in the front. he’s not adept at wearing armor and his robes don’t offer much protection— it’s just smarter this way

now imagine how his feeble wizard bones begin to quake when an enemy sneaks past you and sprints his way with a melee attack LMFAO. he’s a planner, not an improviser, so his brain races a million miles a minute trying to think of which spell to use. he needs to cast something powerful, but your close proximity makes him hesitate

you notice his stutter and quickly reach out to off the enemy. unfortunately, this results in you turning your back to another and opening yourself up to a sneak attack. you’re hit hard, and it takes you out of the fight. luckily, the last enemy has 1 HP, so he can easily finish them off with a hasty bop on the head from his staff 💥

afterwards, he’s STRICKEN with worry, cradling your face and trying to get you to speak to him clearly. once he realizes that your injury is healable, you get whiplash from how fast he switches back and forth between admiration and concern. “that was absolutely amazing! 🤩 ” “I THOUGHT YOU DIED!!! 😵”

ASTARION

you guys are super playful in battle. seeing who can kill the most enemies, doing fun combos together, trash talking (it’s giving legolas and gimli). fights with him on your team are rarely serious

he’s quick and alert, so he’s an expert at dodging attacks— it just so happens that you’re standing behind him one of these times, and you end up taking the full force of the blow in his place. he’s used to teasing you for your misfortunes in battle, so his first instinct is to point and laugh 😭

when you don’t get up and give him a bloodstained grin, he realizes something is seriously wrong. a wave of panic washes over him, and the last thing he remembers is switching into feral vampire mode to get you two out of there safely— i’m talking ripping out throats with his teeth 👹

you’re immediately scolded once you come to; “imagine how bad that could’ve been!”, and “you scared me half to death!”— a.k.a he feels SO BAD for letting this happen LMAO, and he 100% blames himself for not knowing you were behind him. he admits it was his fault after you promise to be more careful, and he promises that he will be too (with a little leg room for fun, of course)

[mrpenguinpants]

Please go out with me for tax benefits!

— When you randomly pointed to a handsome man and declared him to be your boyfriend, you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just wanted a couples discount!

— Alhaitham, Ayato, and Kazuha

-> Part 2: Overdue Bills [Masterlist]

This was originally written for my upcoming "Help me break my engagement by marrying me instead." fic but I got carried away and it became too plot-heavy. So I made a new one. Most of these have nothing to do with money, I just thought the title was funny.

Alhaitham

You blame Kaveh for this. This is entirely his fault and you will not be convinced otherwise. If he hadn't opened his big mouth to Alhaitham about the fact you've been spouting that he was your boyfriend, then you wouldn't be in this mess. It wasn't even that serious, it's not like you were actually emotionally invested with the man and this was all a delusional dream. You barely knew the guy aside from the multiple rumors about him in the first place. You just needed to access some limited-edition books for your thesis and his name happened to be the easiest way to get ahold of them. Sure, you may be lying to authority for the better half of a year about your relationship with the scribe, but it's not your fault they didn't ask questions. If you happened to threaten to tell your very scary and very influential "boyfriend" about this "mistreatment", that's just a byproduct if anything. But now you have a very irritated silver-haired man crowding into your personal space asking why the hell you're announcing to the world that you're both in a relationship. It's creepy. He called you creepy. Is this where you roll over and die in shame?

You swear you didn't think it would get this out of hand. You just happened to spot him in the background while the librarian was giving you a hard time and your dumb brain-to-mouth filter was taking a break that day. So you just blurted that you were Alhaitham's partner and that he would be very upset to hear that you were being treated this way. It's not completely far-fetched, Alhaitham seems like a very, very, private person and on the off chance you were telling the truth? Well, the poor librarian didn't want to lose her job. Besides, it's not like you were planning on doing anything illegal and you don't think you're the absolute worst person to be fake-dating.

By some stroke of luck, or maybe he felt too much pity for you, Alhaitham decides to cut you a deal rather than get you kicked out of the Akademiya. He gets multiple love letters, confessions, and heart-eyed individuals trailing after him all the time. Frankly, he's getting tired of it and since you've already taken the liberty, he won't say anything if you don't say anything. Though he makes it clear that if you ever do anything embarrassing, you're taking the fall and he's going to pretend he doesn't know you. A bit harsh but that's only a safety net. Plus it's not like you actually want to date him so he wouldn't have any commitments. The added bonus is that since he's well-known for having a...rough personality, you don't need to act affectionately with the man or go the extra mile. As long as you have each other's backing, you'll get to check out any textbook you want for free and he gets to be left alone. So for both your benefits, to the rest of the Akademiya you and him are a couple.

You should have known this deal was way too good to be true. As soon as people hear that Alhaitham acknowledges that you're his partner, they're on you like rabid fungi. In comparison to the scribe, you're far easier to prod and poke for any gossip and your quiet day-to-day life is suddenly thrown into the wind. Multiple people a day come to bother you about what it's like to date the moody man. It gets to a point where you have to actually dress incognito just to go and get some coffee. Seriously, didn't people have deadlines and exams to prepare for then to hound you down to talk about your fake love life? Alhaitham is no help either, only shrugging off your complaints and telling you that this is what you agreed to.

He's a horrible partner, fake or not. This isn't your storybook romance where he suddenly falls in love with you, he straight up ignores you sometimes! If anything, this entire situation has stopped you from feeling intimidated by him. Before you wouldn't dare approach him, his appearance and body were enough for you to shy away. You're impulsive, not blind. Alhaitham is drop-dead gorgeous but now that you've reached such an absurd situation it stops intimidating you. You begin to regularly pester the man because you know that even though you're both not actually dating, it would look really bad if he shunned you constantly.

He actually doesn't mind you. Unlike Kaveh or anyone else who interacts with him, you know how to be quiet and independent. Most of the time you both sit in silence, the only noise between the two of you being the flipping of pages and the scratching of ink against paper. If you ever do speak, it's always with a purpose. It's just a bonus that while everyone stares at your table, no one ever approaches. If they need to speak with him, they see your body right next to him and they decide to come back at a later time when he's alone.

Over time, he finds himself seeking you out instead of the other way around. He's come to find your presence comforting and it's the only time when he can actually sit down and read. Being an observant person, he starts to notice your little habits. For one, touch seems to be how you interact with others. You always bump elbows whenever you greet him, pinching his half coat whenever you want to drag him to see whatever captured your attention, and nudging his arm with your hand whenever you need him to bend down so you can whisper something into his ear. He's honestly surprised and concerned that he doesn't push you away with your skinship. If it were anyone else, he would have sent them a sharp glare and pushed him off but he doesn't for you.

All things must come to an end eventually and you've finally finished writing the last sentences for your thesis. Your pat on the back is the firm shut of a book as a deep sigh escapes your lips. Tired but relieved. The goodbye is uneventful, you simply tell him that you don't need him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he's free to live out the single life. He just nods and with that, you're gone.

No one says anything when they notice that Alhaithem sits at a table alone for the nth time that week. There are a few whispers back and forth about how you either got fed up with this attitude or he realized that he was way out of your league. Either way, everyone assumes you and Alhaithem are no longer together and his routine before you arrived settles back in. Yet, he feels off. He refuses to call it longing, you both were hardly affectionate in the first place, but he feels a bit lonely without your presence beside him. it's been plaguing his mind ever since you packed your things and left. He's hardly been able to concentrate on his book, rereading the same sentence for the fourth time before snapping it shut. Letting out a deep sigh, he runs a hand through his hair before setting it against his closed eyes. What's gotten into him?

"Is this seat taken?"

His eyes shoot open, turning around to see you with an armful of books looking expectantly at him. You look nervous and he can't lie to himself that he doesn't find that just the slightest bit endearing. He can tell that you're struggling to carry all of them from the slight shake in your hands.

"I thought our deal was over?" he says this but he gets up anyways to take the books out of your hands and places them on the table. You just roll your eyes at him because of course that's what he would say first and push forward. You're probably the only one who would act so brazenly in front of him besides Kaveh but he doesn't find it irritating when you do it.

"What? So I need to be in a relationship with you just to sit at a table? I know your ego is big but not thattt big," you stretch your words as you settle comfortably into your seat.

He wonders when he started thinking of that specific chair as yours.

"No. I suppose not," he says with an exasperated smile as he sits back down. You beam back at him as you shuffle your chair closer to him as you open your textbook, your fingertips gave that familiar tug for him to lean in closer.

"Good, because I need some help with this section. I have no idea what the hell "bloom" is."

Ayato

Although Valentine's day was mostly celebrated in Mondstadt and Sumeru, Inazuma still liked to dabble in the festivities during the day of love. Various couples' discounts on tricolored Dango or limited edition books from the Yae Publishing House. There was one popular series in particular that was having a huge discount to celebrate the holiday and even though you weren't in the market for a partner, you weren't going to pass up on such a steal. Only for your excitement to fall flat when the lady informed you that the discount was for couples only.

You can't believe this. You just stood in line for hours only for them to tell you this now? What kind of shady place was this? Of course, they didn't advertise the specifics of this sale, they knew this book was popular. People waiting in line wouldn't just walk away once they found out and they would end up paying full price! Well, two can play this game. You randomly gesture off to the side, saying that your boyfriend was just standing off to the side because he wanted to grab some refreshments. You aren't really looking where you're pointing, too busy digging through your pouch and counting your coins of mora before a sharp gasp stops you. The lady quickly bows and beams at you with a mega-watt customer service smile. She hands the book to you free of charge while profusely thanking you for your patronage. You look off to the side but you don't see anyone, but you weren't going to say no, so you shrug and take it. A free book is a free book.

To be fair, you were making it really easy for the Archons to mess with you. You hear whispers around you that you can't make out, anytime you glance at passing people, they quickly bow and shuffle along. You have a horrible sinking feeling forming in the pit of your stomach and you quickly rush home so you can avoid whatever the hell you just caused. Unfortunately, word travels fast in Inazuma, and every shop you pass by you're being confronted left and right with sales pitches and gifts of appreciation for your partner's hard work. All of which you decline, half of it because you're not actually in a relationship and the other half because you have no interest in their gifts. But you've already dug yourself this far in your grave so you just give a hasty no thank you as you try and dodge everyone who looks at you with that glimmer in their eyes. Who did you point at to receive this much praise?

Ayato is greatly confused when people approach him to congratulate him on his engagement. He wasn't planning on getting married any time soon, his duties as the Yashiro Commissioner taking up most of this time. Did the elders set someone up for him without informing him first? He's curious about who his mystery person is but everyone he asks doesn't seem to know where they went. Apparently, his fiancee is shy but humble, declining gifts from various shopkeepers no matter how expensive they are.

That's until one of the children points in your direction and his eyes slide over to you who looks just as confused as him. He's never seen you in his life and you don't look like anyone from a significant clan. He gets clued in that you boldly announced your relationship with him when you were checking out a specific book meant for couples only. Ah, he's starting to understand now. He offers a piece of candy for the helpful information as he makes his way over to you. His mysterious fiancee.

As soon as the man in front of you says Lord Kamisato's name, the uneasy weight in your stomach drops. You quickly spin on your heel to see the pale blue hair and amused light purple eyes. Oh. Oh, Archon's above, please, out of everyone you could have pointed to, please don't make it be the Yashiro Commissioner. You're about to burn this book into ashes and do a ceremony to banish whatever youkai were stored within the pages if you manage to make it out of this alive.

If Ayato was upset about this situation he's found himself in, it would be immediately wiped away because you look like you're about to collapse. He's trying his best to not laugh at your torment right in front of you, but the mix of emotions that's so openly displayed on your face is making it hard. It's obvious that you didn't mean for this to happen, you've just tripped and fallen into a web of misunderstandings. Too entangled to explain yourself without making a fool out of yourself.

If looks could kill, this storekeeper would be dead on the floor twice over. This man calls out to the Yashiro Commissioner, and just to add salt to the wound, proudly congratulates him on his engagement with you. You said nothing about an engagement, you're far too young to be thinking about that thank you very much. But Ayato just nods along with that ever-pleasant smile without bothering to correct the situation. You're not sure if you should be thankful or not. He might be planning your murder in his mind so you stay silent as well.

When Ayato's gaze shifts to you, you do what any creature does when they're in danger and there's nowhere to run. You hide. You automatically raise your book to cover your face so you don't need to look at the source of your embarrassment. Although it does nothing to hide just how red your face is, you don't see him and that's good enough for you. But this also means you don't see the questioning glance the storekeeper shoots Ayato about your behavior, to which Ayato gives a pleasant smile and waves a hand to dismiss the situation.

"Please excuse my fiancee, we didn't mean to announce our engagement so early," Ayato muses, and the storekeeper nods in understanding while you bring your book down low enough to peer over the edges of the pages. Is...is he covering for you? He looks down expectantly at you but when you don't move, he awkwardly coughs into his fist and tilts his head toward the shopkeeper.

"A-Ah yes, that's right! It was a slip of the tongue and I hadn't realized I said it out loud. Please excuse my behavior," you bow and you can hear Ayato turning his head to snort into his hand. This is awful. You think you would prefer if he just outted you so you didn't need to show the world how awful your acting skills are. This is why you read plays, not star in them. But the shopkeeper nods in understanding, apologizing for saying your engagement so loud for others to hear before you're leaving with Ayato's arm wrapped around your waist.

"I'm deeply sorry. There was a discount for couples only and I just pointed in a random direction and it just happened to land on you. I swear I didn't mean to start any of this," you quickly rush out as you bow before Ayato as soon as you're out of sight from the public eye. He still has that annoying look in his eyes but you're completely at his mercy right now. The smug bastard definitely knows that.

"It's no trouble at all. I found the situation quite entertaining," he chuckles before looking you up and down. Okay...a tiny bit weird but you suppose your actions are worse. There's a long silence between the two of you as if he's pondering something and you've had enough of today's events.

"Um...well if that's everything I'll be getting out of your hair. Please enjoy the rest of your day Lord Kamisato," you mumble as you turn to leave but his hand hooks onto the back of your kimono and drags you right back.

"Ah, ah. It would make a bad impression if my fiancee suddenly left me on Valentine's Day. Oh and please, call me Ayato," he smiles that same polite smile but his eyes tell a different story entirely. His smile even widens at how hard you're biting your lip as you match his with a strained one. For Archon's sake, you just wanted to buy a book, how did you get into this mess?!

Kazuha

As soon as Inazuma's borders reopened, you were jumping on the fastest ship back to Liyue. You even got extra lucky that your good friend Beidou happened to be on the pier and offered you a well-deserved ride back to your home free of charge. You've been so homesick but unable to leave due to the regulation the Electro Archon placed, so to say that you were excited to finally go back was an understatement. Although the Crux Fleet was mainly an armed carrier delivering goods between places separated by sea, it did occasionally transport passengers if they paid enough. It only made sense that others would be like you and wish to return home as soon as possible. It's too bad that one of them happened to take one look at you and decide that you were born to be his.

It's an incredibly awkward affair. This wealthy businessman doesn't appear to mean any harm but he's incredibly dense with no sense of social awareness. Although you've politely declined his advances, he doesn't seem to stop. Even when Beidou herself threatens to throw the man overboard, he just keeps his distance and makes heart eyes at you. Unfortunately for you, Beidou can't actually throw him into the cruel watery depths no matter how much you plead with her. The man seems to be an important figure from Snezhnaya so she can't exactly treat him badly. Thus you spend most of your time ducking away and running away from your creepy admirer.

You're usually not so bold but the mix of overwhelming homesickness and just wanting to get this journey over and done with, all of it compels you to act rashly. If your new admirer can't take a simple no then you'll find a different way and show him you're off limits. You've seen the man who sits on the crow's nest, you believe Beidou said his name was Kazuha, whose been a part of her crew for a while now. You've only made passing small talk with each other and he seems like a nice person, at least you hope so. Because as soon as his feet touch the ship's deck, you're throwing yourself at him. You have to give him credit, he has lightning-fast reflexes and is a lot stronger than his demeanor expresses since he manages to catch you and stop you both from sprawling across the floor.

You make a show of throwing your arms around him and whining about how he doesn't spend enough time with poor dear you. You can tell he's infinitely confused so you lean in and whisper into his ear about your creepy stalker who can't take a no. Your eyes desperately plead with him to play along with you, just until the ship reaches Liyue Harbour. It only takes Kazuha to look over your shoulder and lock gazes with said "stalker" before he's turning to you with the most tender smile on his lips and a soft apology for being neglectful. A promise to spend more quality time to make up for his behavior. You swear that should have been an omen because you feel your heart stop for a second right then and there.

It's not completely out there. As the lookout, he would have to stay up in the crow's nest most of the day, and given how soft spoken Kazuha normally is, he doesn't look like the confrontational type. But he does make good on his fake promise and you find yourself spending most of your time in the crow's nest with Kazuha rather than ducking into the shadows of the lower deck. Kazuha is a relaxing presence and you can understand why he stays up here rather than with the rest of the crew. The gentle sea breeze brushes through your hair and it's so peaceful all the way up in the sky. You're almost jealous that he has an anemo vision because you think you'd love to stay in the winds forever.

He's also a gentleman through and through. You're not entirely sure if he's just pretending alongside you or if that's just how he normally acts. You think both options are equally plausible and endearing. At some point, you forget that you're supposed to be doing this for show to keep a creepy man away from you and you genuinely start to seek him out. It's during one night when you watch Kazuha whistle a tune through a leaf that you realize just how deep you're in. Now your position is reversed and you start to feel like the creepy heart-eyed stalker. It's something that you must absolutely not let happen, not on your watch.

Your sudden distance from Kazuha leaves him a bit hurt. He knows that this originally started as an act but he felt that you and him were getting close to each other without any ulterior motives. That all your talks of your dreams and aspiration were real and meaningful. But now that you've suddenly pulled back, he question's if everything was made up in his head. It's not like you owe him anything, he decided to help you out from of his own volition. Beidou can only look at this scene painfully at her two idiotic friends pushing themselves away from each other because they can't sit down and talk it out.

She drags the two of you into a private room, her only warning to fix your emotional angst or she really will throw you both overboard. You both know she's entirely serious so you both obediently nod as she slams the door closed.

Beidou leans against the wooden crates with her head propped up with her arm. She should probably stop watching, she's being far too nosy with her friend's love life, but what kind of friend would she be if she wasn't? She hopes you both managed to talk it out and realize that you're both crushing hard on each other. She had been far too busy with Liyue fastly approaching to check in on your progress but from the looks of things, she thinks everything went well. With the red cheeks and your fingertips linked together, it's so cute that she wants to gag on her wine. Don't get her wrong, she's happy for you and Kazuha, but any more of this puppy love is going to send her into an early grave.

"You're not going to stay in Liyue?" she overhears you say. Huh? She honestly thought that Kazuha might pitch a tent and finally settle down with you but the small shake of his head and your fallen expression says otherwise. Damn, talk about a heartbreaker. But he gives you a soft expression, something really vulnerable, and his hand comes up to caress your cheek- and that's her cue to turn away. That's something that even she knows she shouldn't be watching. She instead takes another swig of her cup.

"Captain."

She looks up to see Kazuha standing beside her, the air of nature and sea breeze clinging to him wherever he goes. She politely doesn't bring up the charm clutched tightly in his hands.

"You sure about this kid?" Beidou asks, her eyes still trained on her empty cup of booze. She doesn't need to look to know that he's watching your back disappear into the crowd longingly.

"If I try to force something I know I'm not ready to finish, it would only lead to disaster. Right now isn't the right time. But I'm sure in the future, our paths will cross again," Kazuha nods to himself solemnly. This time Beidou does look at him before she shows a fond smile herself before she brings her arm back and slaps it against Kazuha's back. It's loud and hard enough to jolt him out of his temporary sadness.

"If you ever need a ride back to Liyue, just let me know. We'll get you there in no time lover boy," Beidou grins cheekily as Kazuha flushes a bright red. How cute, he can't even be honest with himself huh?

[4wkjun]

✴ Kinktober, day three: car sex with Taehyun

✴ Word count: 1,9K ✴ Content warning: protected sex, kind of public, little bit of fem!masturbation, nipple play, mention of hickeys, a bit of overstimulation, curse words. ✴ Taglist: @starsareseen, @lucid-sombra, @enha13, @karinashairdryer, @kim2005bomi, @lunathewritingcat , @hyunj00

✴ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! ✴

✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴✴

The rain poured heavily on top of your and Taehyun’s heads as you walked – read: ran – towards his car. Turns out it is

important to check out the weather before planning a hike with your boyfriend. The mud beneath your feet made the whole thing a lot harder than you expected, so the both of you just gave up running – afraid you’d fall and hurt yourselves – so you took

“Damn”, Taehyun mumbled as the two of you closed his car’s doors after a long trip down the hill. “You ok?”

“Yeah, but your carpet’s gonna need a bath.”

Taehyun laughed, starting the car to turn the heater on. “Don’t worry about that, I just don’t want you to be sick after this long shower.”

You chuckled, pulling your seat back to be able to take your muddy shoes off. As you bent forward to untie your boots, you looked at him. Taehyun looked completely hypnotized by you: your hair was dripping water down your chest – and his seat, but honestly? He couldn’t care less –, your t-shirt becoming see-through, your facial expression completely innocent as your nipples threatened to peek through.

“Babe?”

“Yeah?”, he responded, looking in your eyes. You let out a small laugh – which he didn’t listen to due to the pouring rain hitting the car’s ceiling nonstop.

“Are you ok?”

“Absolutely”, he said, his voice an octave higher. Ugh, what is wrong with me?, he thought.

You considered your sex life pretty consistent for a young couple. Obviously, you didn’t have sex every day, and sometimes you wouldn’t do it even once a week because of your erratic schedules, but lately, Taehyun has been dealing with late puberty. He’d get a boner from just looking at you, picturing himself putting you in positions he didn’t even know could turn him on. So many dirty thoughts ran over his mind, a thousand miles an hour, he felt like a pervert.

You turned around in your seat, supporting your back against the door. Your left leg was bent beneath your right leg, your ankle right above your knee; he had such a privileged view of your inner thighs and clothed pussy, his head almost spun.

Dead cats, my grandmother taking a shower, my parents having sex, he thought, trying to avoid a boner.

“You think you fool me?” you asked funnily. “Tell me, what’s on your mind?”

He scoffed, turning to face the windshield. “You wouldn’t wanna know, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I do”, you pouted. “I’m your girlfriend, you know you can share anything with me.”

“Ok, fine”, he sighed. “I’m thinking about pulling my seat backward and watching you bounce on my cock nonstop right now.”

Suddenly, all of your blood seemed to separate itself in two hemispheres: half of it ran to your cheeks, making you as red as a cherry tomato, while the other half ran to your core, making you feel a pinch down your stomach.

“Oh.”

Taehyun laughed, throwing his head back. He was about to tell you to chill, not worry about a thing when your mouth worked faster than his.

“We could do that.”

“What?”, he asked, facing you all of the sudden. Your cheeks and ears burned hot, but the thought of being railed by your lover in the middle of a parking lot – and yet not being caught because of the heavy rain working as a curtain – was way too luring.

“That…”, you said, gesturing weirdly with your hands. “I’m ok with it”, you shrugged. 

“Babe”, he chuckled, his right hand reaching for your hot cheek. “You don’t have to do anything because I’m being a perv.”

You laughed, laying your head against his palm. “What if I want to?”

“In that case…”, he said, removing his hand from your face. He bent forward and in a matter of seconds, his seat went back. “C’mere”, he tapped his thigh twice.

Without putting too much thought into it, you did it. Awkwardly, you jumped over to the other side – accidentally knocking your knee on the door, which made Taehyun chuckle a little and ask if you were ok –, sitting right above his thighs.

“Hi”, you said, almost whispering.

“Hi”, Taehyun responded, smirking. His left hand reached for your chin, holding your face still. “Can I kiss you?”

“I’ll be sad if you don’t.”

With a soft chuckle, Taehyun’s lips reached for yours, his hand moving from your chin towards your neck. His lips moved slowly against yours, making you melt beneath his touch, your hands reaching for his torso – you almost laughed between the kisses when his muscles tensed.

“You’re too distant”, he mumbled against your lips, pulling you closer. Your soaked skirt rubbed against his soaked jeans, rolling them up your thighs. Taehyun took the opportunity to caress your humid skin.

“Is this way better?”, you asked, feeling your crotch right above his. He hummed as you slowly grind against his clothed cock.

“You have no idea”, he responded, his lips now finding your neck. He took his time abusing your wet and cold skin, tongue brushing against your sweet spot more times you could count, teeth softly nipping and leaving love marks behind his trace – more than enough to make you aroused.

“Tyun…”, you mumbled, grinding against him again. You could feel your arousal pooling against his jeans.

“I can feel you throbbing, baby”, he said with a smirk. “Tell me, what do you want?”

“You”, you said with a sigh.

“How do you want me?”

You whined, pressing your body downwards. He suppressed a hiss, left hand squeezing your thigh.

“Words, love.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“I am touching you”, he chuckled.

“Not like that”, you said, blushing. Instead of saying anything explicitly, you grabbed his left hand and placed it right above your clothed pussy.

Taehyun only chuckled and moved his head toward your neck again – this time, on the other side –, while his fingertips played around the hem of your panties. You reached for his biceps, looking for support, because it felt like you were about to melt.

“I guess I should suggest nasty stuff more often”, he mumbled between wet kisses down your skin – and his fingertips entered your underwear, going straight to your slit. His middle and ring finger rubbed up and down your slit, spreading your wetness and making you moan quietly. “Don’t hold back”, he demanded. “No one will hear us, it’s pouring outside.”

You gulped, opening your eyes and facing the ceiling. He had such an effect on you, that you can’t even remember when you closed them in the first place. Right after collecting your arousal on his digits, Taehyun’s fingertips circled your clit and you sighed loudly. Moving slower than you wished, his lips closed particularly harshly on your sweet spot, making you whine.

“Faster, please”, you mumbled, eyes involuntarily closed again. Taehyun could feel his dick twitching inside of his tight underwear as you kept dripping for him. You are already a whiny mess for him with only a few kisses and touches in the right places; adorable.

“Nah, I’d rather have you cumming on my cock”, he said, stopping the abuse on your neck. “Think you need me to prepare you?”

“No, please”, you said, reaching for his plump lips. He happily accepted the kiss, his hand leaving your already swollen clit to grab your ass with both hands beneath the skirt. You felt yourself clenching around nothing as he squeezed the flesh.

You separated your lips, allowing him to awkwardly reach for his wallet in his back pocket to grab a condom. In the meanwhile, you managed to unbutton and unzip his pants as fast as you could, barely desperate for him.

The both of you chuckled as you had to switch your weight to your knees for Taehyun to be able to pull his pants – and underwear – down. Your hands were fast to pump his cock a few times while he tried to open the condom package, owning a shaky moan from your man. He hated himself for having to pull your soft and small hand away from his shaft so he could put the condom.

“You ready?”, he said, pumping himself a couple of times with the condom on, spreading the lube evenly.

“Yeah”, you said, pulling your panties to the side and lifting your weight again. He aligned himself to your entrance, his lubed tip rubbing against your already wet slit before you could actually sink on him. As you did, the both of you moaned, your fingernails entering his shoulder as you reached for support. You were less than halfway down his shaft when you felt yourself clenching involuntarily when his tip brushed slowly through your g-spot.

“Fuck, you’re so much hotter than I pictured right now”, he groaned, hands firm on your waist. As you bottomed out, your chest was already moving faster, the wave of pleasure never seeming to go down.

You slowly became fucking yourself on his cock rhythmically, moaning and whining with your eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. Taehyun couldn’t seem to close his eyes to save his life, the image of you pleasuring yourself on him was just too much. He lifted your skirt, bending his seat a little down to be able to see his cock entering you with ease after a good minute.

He knew he wouldn’t last long, especially with you on top, so he reached your damp shirt to free your boobs – and attach his lips to one of them – while his fingertips reached for your clit again. You dealt with it for almost a whole minute without becoming – already – overstimulated.

“Jesus, Taehyun”, you moaned, sounding almost like a cry. “It’s too much, don’t...”

“I’m getting close, cum with me”, he mumbled after letting go of your right nipple. He aimed for the other one, his hand never stopping stimulating your clit while you bounced up and down on him.

You couldn’t stop clenching and moaning, eyes closed and hands firm on his shoulder. Your thighs burned like hell, but it felt just so good, that you couldn’t stop now.

“God, yes, yes!”, you moaned, feeling your orgasm approaching faster.

“Yes babe, cum for me”, he moaned against your skin, tongue caressing your hard nipple so deliciously.

It took you around three more bounces for you to explode on top of him. You kept riding him, wanting your orgasm to last longer – and triggering his. Taehyun moaned higher, head was abruptly thrown back as his fingers stopped circling your clit without him noticing. His chest raised fast, and his cock twitched inside of the condom as you kept clenching involuntarily around him.

“Fuck, y/n”, he groaned holding you still as he became too sensitive – you were too, but you’d take it for him to look so hot and vulnerable in front of you. You softly leaned forward, laying your head against his shoulder.

“My legs hurt”, you mumbled, still a little dumb after a strong orgasm. He chuckled, arms circling your torso.

“Sorry, babe”, he said, caressing your damp hair. “You’re so hot, though. A little sedentary, but hot.”

“Shut up”, you chuckled, raising your head. Your lips reached for his in a quick peck, smiling right after.

“We should be stuck in the car more often. That could be your cardio.”

You playfully slapped him, lifting your weight to remove him from your insides. The windows were foggier than they should be and your legs were like jelly as you weirdly sat back on your seat.

The rain still poured against the metal of the car. No one could ever know what happened inside of that car, just you, Taehyun, and the heavy rain shared this secret. And believe me, Taehyun would never forget it.

[hergrandplan]

Hi! I hope you're having a nice day!😊 Not sure if you're still taking the 5 sentence thingy but I was thinking of Wilmon💜 and "So you're saying we got lost and we don't know where we are?".

Hi! I'm so sorry that this is so late, but I couldn't figure it out until last night lol. Warning: angst ahead (disclaimer: this thing is inspired by a little AU I worked on a few months ago and is partially written on a train so please excuse any mistakes💜

“So, you’re saying we got lost and we don’t know where we are?” Simon stared aheaf of him, at the snow-covered road, the miles and miles of nothingness.

Beside him, Wille hit the navigation again, but it still wouldn’t come to life.

“Told you we should’ve taken a map.” Simon thumped his head against the headrest, closing his eyes. At least they were in a car, somewhat warm and shielded from the elements. “This wouldn’t have happened with a map.”

“I’m sorry,” Wille said. “I know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your Christmas.” He was silent for a moment, then Simon heard him let out a bitter chuckle. “Stuck in a car with your ex.”

Simon opened one eye, glancing at Wille next to him. “I’m not stuck in a car with my ex. I’m stuck in a car with my friend.”

Simon didn’t miss the quick grimace that came over Wille’s face, before he schooled it back in a more neutral look. “Right. Friends. Forgot we were that for a second.”

Simon turned his head to look at him, frowning. “I mean – we are. That’s why I invited you along to pick up my mom’s gift.”

“Don't lie to me. You called me ’cause you needed my car." Wille's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter, even though they hadn't been driving for at least 15 minutes now.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I called you ‘cause I wanted to spend time with you, because you are my friend.”

“Because that’s the only reason you call me nowadays!” Wille snarled, whipping around to face Simon. “You only reach out when you need something from me, whether it’s picking up your mom’s Christmas gift or se—“

“Don’t,” Simon warned. “Don’t you dare go there.”

“It’s true though, isn’t it?” It was now that Simon saw the anger simmering in Wille’s eyes, and wondered how long it had been there. “I don’t hear anything from you all year," Wille continued, "while you’re living your fancy life in Los Angeles or New York or wherever the fuck you live now, god knows I don’t know ‘cause you don’t talk to me, and then the minute you get back here you just pretend like everything is just as you left it. Well guess what, Simon?" Wille's breathing had become shallow, consisting of quick, angry breaths. "Things change in your absence. You may think that the whole fucking world revolves around you now, and your tours and your albums, but that doesn’t mean that we stop living the second you leave. It doesn’t mean that we don’t go on.”

“I don’t think the world revolves around me!” Simon yelled back, the car suddenly feeling too small to be having this kind of conversation.

“Don’t you? You certainly expect me to still be the exact same, knocking on my door in the middle of the night because you feel lonely. As if loving you wasn’t already the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done, there you go again messing with my head.”

Simon stilled, and he gazed up at Wille. “You once said loving me was as easy as breathing.”

He saw that bitter grimace cross Wille’s face again, but this time it didn’t disappear. “That was back when you still loved me too.”

Simon’s heart thumped in his throat and there were tears, threatening to spill down his cheeks. The words were soft, afraid that if he spoke them any louder his voice would crack. “Who says I ever stopped?”

Send me a sentence + wilmon and get 5 (or many) more!

[madridfangirl]

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fic)

Chapter 14

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. Mature Language in parts.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

....................................................

‘The things I do for lov…’

Ananya froze. Suddenly very alert. While Jude was still lost in her scent.

She shut her eyes, firmly. Burying her head in the sand like as ostrich. As if that would make the last few seconds not real. As if she could go back in time & change what she nearly said.

It couldn’t be, could it?

Surely it was a slip. Surely she couldn’t have meant to say THAT word. How could she, when they hadn’t even been together for two months yet? Last time it had taken her six months to come NEAR this feeling. It was too soon. WAY TOO SOON.

From the way Jude was happily sighing behind her, babbling something incoherent as his lips traced the back of her neck, she could tell he hadn’t heard any of it. Some respite, at least.

But the numbness refused to leave her body. She was still, like a statue. Only moving due to Jude’s movements behind her. 

After a few moments, he noticed it too, and tried to turn her around. But she resisted.

‘Dove?’

The fondness and care in his voice was too much to bear. His proximity was too much to bear.  The warmth of his touch, his breath on the back of her neck were all too much to bear. She suddenly wanted to bolt out of the room but that would alarm Jude in a thousand different ways. So she took the easy way out.

‘Feeling a bit uneasy. Be back in a bit.’

She removed his arm from around her and headed straight to the washroom, keeping her back to him throughout. Not letting him see her face.

He sensed something was off but attributed it to exhaustion, and let her have a few moments in peace.

Jude picked up his phone, and saw a few messages from his teammates checking in on him. Of course the word would have spread, since he left in a rush and said it was an emergency. He’ll have to come up with a story on the way back, something that doesn’t invite too many questions.

Ananya sat down on the covered toilet seat and buried her head in her hands. Her heart was going at a million miles per second, practically threatening to burst out of her chest.

She knew what it was like to be in love. She had been in love before. But last time, it was gradual. She could tell the signs, the milestones along the way. They had met in college, were classmates, then friends, then more than friends and then ultimately fell in love. Everyone around them saw where it was going from very early on, but the two of them had taken their time. Not rushing into anything. Letting feelings develop & grow over time. Letting destiny take its course. And when the confession happened, it felt like it was a long time coming. Like it was always meant to be this way. 

Was this, with Jude……….like that in any way?

Ananya started pacing around the small space, trying to analyse her feelings. Trying to logically break it down.

Her brain was leaning towards a no. 

They had known each other for only two months. Too short a time to develop such strong feelings. They hadn’t spoken about many crucial things which would be a core part of life if they actually do decide to…..be together like that. To think of a future like that. At the end of the day, falling in love was also a conscious decision, right? Some part of your brain allows you to take that step at some point along the way. The head over heels stuff was only for the movies. Real life didn’t work that way. Actions have consequences in real life, with real people involved, who can get hurt in unimaginable ways due to this torturous feeling. So yes, it was a conscious decision. Had to be, right?

And she didn’t remember making that decision in this case. Her brain hadn’t given her that signal that now the waters have been tested enough, and it was okay to take this massive leap of faith where she could either fly or fall face first in a deep, treacherous valley. So how could this be love? How could she possibly feel that way for him?

Her heart had a mind of its own though.

No logic stood a chance when it came to matters of the heart. Unfortunately, she knew that all too well. Had first hand experience of it. 

If it wasn’t love, why did she yearn to comfort him always? Why did his pain physically affect her senses? Why did his smile uplift her spirits? Why did she feel this gravitational pull towards him? Wanting to be in his arms - his safe, warm, steady embrace? Why did a single message / call from him completely change the way her day was going otherwise? Why was she always looking for ways (even cutting corners sometimes) to be able to spend more time with him? Why did she secretly beam with pride every time he was on the pitch? Why was his individual performance starting to become as big a thing she stressed over as the overall result for her favourite club? 

Her brain had no answer to all this. Like she knew it wouldn’t. 

But she also remembered what happened the last time her heart had overruled her brain so decisively. When she was falling for her ex. At that time, they seemed poles apart. But now, in comparison to her & Jude, they were the perfect match.

Her heart had won. And it led to PAIN. Sheer, absolute, heartbreaking pain. The naiveté of first love, of assuming this would be it, the joy of finding the boy of your dreams, the realisation that you never wanted to be close to any other like this. Because how could anyone else make you feel this way? It seemed impossible.

All for that boy to promise the moon and then walk away at the first sign of trouble. Saying it’s too hard. That they were too different. That they wanted different things from life. No relationship could ever survive when only one person was fighting for it. Hers didn’t either.

And here she was, on the precipice of that free-fall again.

With a boy who had absolutely no idea what all she was thinking right now. Who’d probably freak the fuck out if he heard what she nearly said. Who had NEVER BEEN IN LOVE BEFORE. Who didn’t even know what that feeling entailed, and what came after it. Because falling in love was still easier, but staying in love was the harder part. Shit gets real then. 

Jude had often said that they were young and this was their time to have fun. She knew he didn’t believe in thinking 5 steps ahead in his personal life, like she did. He was more a ‘go with the flow’ kinda guy, not an over thinker. 

And they were having fun, a lot of fun, she couldn’t deny. But what if that’s all he wanted? What if this was the definition of dating for him? What if this was it? 

His life revolved around football right now. His family knew it, his friends knew it, and they supported him in their own ways. And hers should revolve around her career too - that’s the reason she had moved half way across the world to not miss this amazing job opportunity. 

Being in love would mean taking important life decisions together. At least that was her definition of it. No, they weren’t ready for that. Far from it. And she couldn’t dump the complex twisted inner workings of her mind on him right now. They needed time, a lot of time, before they could get there. If they even wanted to get there. Yes, this was the right way. To wait, and not rush into anything. To not let her idiotic heart ruin this with such slips. She had to be more careful. She will be more careful. She won’t falter like this again, she couldn’t. 

With a fresh resolve, she washed her face, finally looked at her own self in the mirror (she was avoiding that so far for some reason, as if she would herself call her own bluff), cleaned up a bit, took a deep breath before unlocking the door.

Jude was sitting up against the headboard, waiting for her to come out. It had been a while. He wanted to give her space but was starting to wonder if something was up.

His eyes followed her closely as she picked up her phone from her desk and came back to bed. Keeping her back to him throughout.

He checked the time; precisely 30 mins before he absolutely had to leave. 

But a weird feeling engulfed him, an unpleasant feeling. A sinking feeling. Why hadn’t she said anything? Why hadn’t she looked at him?

‘Ananya?’

His voice was low, soft. Almost tentative. Jude laid on his side, watching her back. He wanted to reach out, to hug her from behind, but something stopped him.

‘Hmmm.’

‘All ok?’

‘Yeah.’

Her voice gave him zero confidence. He didn’t want to leave like this. And for the life of him he couldn’t figure what had suddenly happened to her. They were absolutely fine just a while back. Happily engaging in pillow-talk. And then poof!

Was she PMSing? He had heard mood swings were a part of it. Would she be pissed if he asked her that? Probably. Best to stay away from this topic.

But he hated this distance and silence between them. He reached for her upper arm, stroking it tentatively.

‘Is it me? Have I done something?’

Had he gone overboard today by pushing that guy’s topic? Did his immaturity / impulsiveness become too much for her? 

The little tremor in his voice made her turn around immediately. Guilt hit her in loads, again. First the Arjun thing and now this. He shouldn’t be dealing with this stuff right before a crucial match, definitely not because of her.

Instinct took over, and she forgot all else, pulling his face close and placing a soothing kiss to his lips.

‘I’m just a little tired, yeah? Been a long day. Tough day.’

He nodded earnestly, lapping up every word.

‘I get it. I do.’

‘I know. Come here, baby.’

He laid half on top of her. Face tucked into her neck and chest. One arm over her waist. One leg over her legs. As she stroked his shoulder, arm and back gently. 

‘Just forget everything and focus on the match, yeah? Score for me tomorrow.’

‘Will you watch me?’

‘Obviously.’

They stayed hugging like that for 5 mins. Quiet. Drawing comfort from each others’ touch.

Suddenly, a thought hit Jude.

‘Jobe’s gonna be here in a few days.’

‘Oh nice.’

‘Yeah, his Christmas break has started.’

‘Am sure you’d love having him with you.’

‘Yeah, really looking forward to it.’

Silence again. Then Jude decided it was stupid to beat around the bush. He leaned up on his elbow, looking down at her.

‘Wanna meet him?’

‘I…uhh….are you sure?’

‘Yeah. He knows about us. You’d like him. He’d like you. I know it already.’

Her head started to spin. Was it too soon to meet his family?

But Jobe was more like Jude’s best friend.

Rubbish. He was still family. Probably the closest bond of Jude’s. What if he doesn’t like her? She hardly knew anything about him, other than the titbits Jude had told her. What would she even talk to him about? Did he know much about her? Had Jude spoken to him about her? 

Why was it bothering her like this? It’s shouldn’t matter so much, right? Didn’t she just decide to consciously take things slow?

‘Earth to Ananya. Come back.’

‘I….have you asked him? Does he want to meet me?’

‘Not yet. Why wouldn’t he?’

Ananya could think of a zillion reasons. 

The simplicity of Jude’s thoughts were both his strength and also a blind spot sometimes. But this was Jude - who always believed life would find a way. It wouldn’t hurt to borrow that child-like optimism maybe, at least in this one case.

‘Ok.’

‘Ok?’

‘Yeah let’s do it. I mean, if he wants to, of course. Don’t wanna impose on your time together.’

‘You know the amount of mind space you’d unlock if you stop overworking that pretty brain of yours?’

‘Brains can’t be pretty.’

‘So we are ignoring the point?’

‘It’s easier said than done, Jude.’

What did he know about chronic overthinking? Only those who were plagued by it knew what it felt like. Others should just zip it and keep their suggestions to themselves. 

Jude felt her mood shift again. Almost fully convinced she was PMSing. Otherwise he couldn’t make sense of the last 30 mins.

His alarm buzzed then, and Ananya put her fingers in her ears to protect them from the obnoxiously horrid & loud sound.

It was time to leave. No more dilly-dallying.

‘I’ll check with him & then let’s plan something?’

‘Cool.’

‘We’re good, yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So I’d get my agreed upon special reward if I score tomorrow?’

‘If you don’t manage to piss me off somehow, then yeah.’

He left soon after, after a quick kiss, and Ananya just shut her eyes, shut out the world (her brain included) and allowed sleep to numb her restless thoughts.

Jude didn’t score the next day, but his assist was spectacular, and the team won. One more league match was left before the Christmas break; everyone wanted to leave on a high.

They spoke briefly after the match, and Jude told her the plan was a go. 

It was happening. She was going to meet his brother on Friday. The person who knew Jude the best. In two days. 

But god showed some mercy and she was so caught up in work the next few days that this somehow went on a back burner.

Until Friday night, when she was in the car with Agnes, on the way to Jude’s place.

She was supposed to reach by 7 pm but the conference had run over. It was already 8:30.  So much for first impressions. Universe never stopped conspiring against her after all.

When Jude answered the door, it was 8:45. She started blurting out her apologies, without even greeting him.

He didn’t hear a word, eyes too focused on the navy blue dress once she took off her coat. The fitted knee length dress, black stockings, black heels, hair partly tied back, glossy lips.

The look was blowing his mind. And he suddenly wished Jobe was not in the house with them right now. 

Because now he won’t be able to do what that attire actually deserved. But no force in the world would stop him from getting a quick taste. Not even her explicit exhaustive warnings of keeping his hands to himself in front of Jobe.

Jude cut her off mid-sentence when he dove in for a kiss, grabbing the side of her face. His other hand slid down to cup her butt, their usual make-out routine. Ananya froze, trying to look around with her peripheral vision.

Before she could push him away, Jude broke the kiss and shrugged at her. As if to say it was her fault somehow. But now was not the time to put him in line, she’ll have to do that later. With one final stern look, which he pointedly avoided, they walked into the living room, hand in hand.

His brother was lounging on the couch, and stood up to greet her.

Neither Ananya nor Jobe knew what an ideal greeting would be in this setting - a casual side hug or a nod or a handshake? So they ended up doing a silly little wave to each other while muttering a quick ‘hey.’

Jude of course was oblivious to the awkwardness, as he went to fetch the dinner tray-table. His chef had truly gone over-board today when Jude said it’s gonna be a special intimate dinner, preparing a proper 3 course meal. 

Both Ananya and Jobe helped set the dining table as Jude went to fetch the wine. Neither had much faith in Jude’s abilities to manage single-handedly. 

‘Sorry you had to wait. I know you guys have your dinner early. You should have started, really.’

It was something she was still getting used to with Jude. He preferred to have dinner done by 8 usually, a healthy habit for athletes.

‘No it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’

‘Thanks. How was the amusement park yesterday?’

The brothers had visited a famous Disney park in Madrid, which had caused quite a stir, and the authorities nearly had to shut the place down.

Jobe chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

‘Started out fun, but then got a bit mad. Like I knew Jude was popular here but man, this much?’

‘And this soon.’

‘Yeah, exactly. They had to call bouncers to escort us. Bit nuts, that.’

‘I’d say get used to it. Fans have really taken to him. Never seen so much love for any player here in 5-6 months, not since Ronaldo of course. We are a tough fanbase but he has truly won us over at rocket speed.’

‘Oh, you’re a Madrid fan?’

Jude chose that moment to emerge with her favourite bottle of wine, and answered for her.

‘Lifelong. Diehard. Like us for Birmingham.’

‘Really? That’s interesting.’

Ananya wondered what would be running through Jobe’s mind with this piece of information. Would he take her for a fan stalker? She couldn’t blame him for that line of thought - it would be a fair question to ask. Something that Jude had never bothered to ask.

But no question came, and she didn’t want to venture a clarification on her own.

Instead, a different question came.

‘So, when he fucks up on the pitch, do you give him stick as a fan or his girlfriend?’

‘I don’t fuck up.’

Both Jobe and Ananya ignored that, not even bothering to look at him.

‘Who says I give him stick?’

‘He does.’

As if the words weren’t enough, Jobe also pointed his fork at Jude.

Ananya turned sharply towards her uncomfortable boyfriend, cocking her head to the side.

‘Honesty. That’s what I meant.’

‘Did not.’

Jobe murmured while mock-coughing, bursting into a giggle and Ananya eventually joined him, chuckling at Jude’s misery.

It broke the ice between the two, but the cost was Jude’s annoyance. After a few moments, Ananya reached out to gently stroke his arm.

‘It’s fine. I do actually give him a hard time when he isn’t himself on the pitch.’

‘Good on you.’

Jobe nodded, and the conversation started flowing easily from thereon.

Ananya asked about how his season was going, and the boy’s eyes lit up. Passion for football was common between the brothers. As was their gratitude to be able to play professionally at big clubs. He opened up even more, telling her about the team and standings so far. Jude added titbits in the middle, as to how Jobe was more a striker like their dad, his pride for his baby brother all too visible in his eyes. 

Theirs was a special special bond - she could gather that in 20 mins with them. Denise & Mark should write parenting books. She’d tell them that when she……..no, let’s not go there.

Jobe was curious about her work, having heard a few details from Jude. He listened with rapt attention when she described (at a very surface level, in simple terms) some of the recent investment banking mandates she was working on.

‘So you’re smart smart then.’

‘Told ya.’

Jude chimed in again, as she looked between the two sheepishly.

‘Went to a fancy university I’m guessing?’

‘Yup - the best in India, right?’

Both sets of eyes turned on her, the praise making her a tad uncomfortable. 

‘Yeah, I mean, it’s supposed to be…yeah. Not a big deal really.’

She muttered under her breath, but it didn’t seem to register with them.

‘Also working on her Stanford MBA application.’

‘Cool.’

A few moments of silence then, and she thought they had moved on from the subject, thankfully. 

‘So what do you two talk about then?’

Jobe blurted out, smirking. The implication all too obvious. Ananya’s instinct was to laugh at the joke (the timing really made it funny) but she also wanted to come to Jude’s defence. 

Meanwhile, Jude threw a napkin at Jobe, completely unaffected by the banter, returning his brother’s playfulness.

Ananya reached out for Jude’s hand, squeezing it lightly.

‘Football. We started with football, and moving to Madrid.’

‘And bad Spanish.’

‘Yeah, that too.’

They smiled at each other fondly, reminiscing their first meeting in that sweet little cafe, and Jude leaned in to place an affectionate kiss on her cheek. Jobe leaned back in his chair, observing the two, but mostly his brother.

‘And then he blackmailed me with my love for RM.’

‘Guilty as charged.’

Jude raised his hand all too dramatically, as he proceeded to narrate the Clasico & Zidane story.

It was less than 2 months ago, but somehow felt like they had known each other for a lot longer. 

The evening went by pleasantly, with good food, good company and good conversation.

When they were having dessert (Jobe & Ananya, coz Jude still had a match left before the break so he had like 2 bites of the pudding), Ananya asked what she thought was a harmless question.

‘So, anyone special in your life?’

Jobe stilled, unsure how to answer that, and Jude looked down, smiling to himself.

She again looked between the two brothers, trying to decipher this unspoken language, and wondering why it was such a complicated question.

Then, an unpleasant thought hit her. What if the brothers had more aspects in common, like their approach to women? What if Jobe was how Jude used to be (before he met her)?

But the boy was 18, EIGHTEEN, for crying out loud. 

Though Jude was like that at 18 too. She had never gone into the specifics of his earlier life but had gathered enough to know it had been like that from 16-17, since his meteoric rise to fame.

She secretly hoped it wasn’t true for Jobe, who she saw more as a kid, as Jude’s baby brother. Jude would know of course, she could ask him later but she really didn’t want this piece of information.

Damnit, why did she have to bring up this topic and make things uncomfortable? The boy would think she’s nosy, like many others who must ask him such invasive personal questions. She shouldn’t have assumed it was a simple question; nothing was simple with these boys.

‘I’m sorry…..’

‘It’s complicated…..’

Both spoke at the same time. 

Ananya quickly took control of the situation, desperate to put this behind them.

‘Conversation for another time, yeah?’

‘Yup.’

Then she gave an irritated side-eye to Jude, who was still smiling to himself and hadn’t offered to help her or break the awkwardness in any way. Far too amused for her liking.

It was already 10:15 - 90 mins had flown by.

Wine, exhaustion and lack of sleep started to take its toll on her. She yawned, but quickly covered her mouth to not let it show, and started to walk around the living room to regain some energy.

‘Hey you guys were playing FIFA?’

‘Yup - we started when you texted you were gonna be late.’

‘Who won?’

‘Half-time. I’m up 2-0.’

Jude beamed, while sticking out his tongue to Jobe.

‘Please. He cheated, like always.’

‘I know right. He cheated with me too - no way I would have lost like that otherwise.’

‘Don’t wanna say sore losers but…..’

Jude shrugged. And the other two stared at him, thoroughly unamused.

‘Oh shut it. I’ve beaten you way too many times for you to be so smug.’

‘Ummm no you haven’t.’

‘You even checked the console once when you lost 4-0.’

‘Hit yourself in the head or something? Don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh you don’t wanna admit in front of her, is it?’

‘There’s nothing to admit.’

‘You and me - now. Let’s finish the game.’

‘You’re on. That ok with you, dove?’

‘DOVE?’

‘Just zip it.’

Ananya was seated on the couch, going between the two like a tennis ball, realising she had accidentally opened a pandora’s box. Clearly another thing in common between the brothers - tough competitors, hated losing, especially when it came to any football related stuff.

‘I mean, yeah, fine with me.’

‘Cool.’

They moved in sync and sat on either side of her on the couch. Determined to make the other eat his words. Their large frame making her feel like a minion.

She noticed how they hid their hands from the other, to not let any hint slip by. This was going to be a hard fought war.

‘Gimme a good luck kiss.’

Without waiting for a response, Jude dove in for a quick peck on her lips.

‘That’s not fair.’

‘Yeah? Go get a girlfriend then.’

‘Isn’t it funny how you’ve NEVER said that to me or ANYONE before?’

Jude knew what Jobe was implying, and that he was right. His previous thoughts on relationships was definitely not something he was keen to discuss right now.

‘Just shut it & play, you donut.’

‘How’s donut even an insult? Seriously how do people call you smart & mature & ahead of your age?’

‘Because I AM THAT.’

‘Yeah, so mature yet doesn’t even know how to drive? You’re embarrassing, bro.’

‘BOYS, let’s go back to the game, yeah?’

Ananya was on the verge of bursting into a fit of giggles, multiple times during their (sometimes childish) banter. But somehow managed to keep a straight face.

‘And Jobe, good luck to you too.’

‘Thank you for being fair. Unlike him.’

Jude scoffed at his brother, then looked at Ananya questioningly. She shrugged, mouthing ‘it was the right thing.’

Jude scoffed again, and physically pulled Ananya close to his side. Jobe just shook his head at his childish antics.

An evil thought hit Jude then.

‘Jobe - why don’t you tell her what your fav team was growing up?’

‘Birmingham. Duhh.’

‘I mean, outside of Birmingham, you jerk.’

Jobe went quiet.

‘Ananya - can you guess?’

Jude had no intention of letting this go.

But how was she supposed to guess this?

‘Ummm United? Liverpool?’

‘Nope.’

Jude just looked victorious, while Jobe was avoiding her gaze.

Then it hit her why Jude would be asking her that.

‘NO.’

She turned towards Jobe, feeling betrayed.

Surely not that god-forsaken team. Not Madrid’s most bitter rivals. Not the club Ananya detested with a vengeance.

‘OH YES.’

Jude giggled next to her.

‘It was just for a year or so, like when I was 10 or something.’

Jobe muttered sheepishly, somehow sad about losing her favour. 

‘He even had a jersey. Wanna guess which one?’

‘OH GOD NO.’

‘Hey, that was a gift from my friend.’

‘Coz you loved him so much.’

Ananya just slid even closer to Jude on the couch, as if physically repulsed by the revelation. Jude gave himself a thunderous pat on his back. While Jobe looked at his brother with disgust, which Jude paid no attention to.

‘Like I said, it was just for a year.’

Jobe just left it out there. 

‘It’s fine.’

Ananya recovered from her initial shock, realising it was childish to hold that against him. Or anyone. She was still sticking to Jude though, subconsciously, which he liked very very much.

15 mins into the second half, the score was 2-1. A very tense, intense battle.

But she was struggling to keep her eyes open. It had been a long day, and a super long week. Her head leaned against Jude’s arm and Jude slid down into the couch so she could put her head on his shoulder. Which she gladly did. 

Jobe smiled to himself, not laced with sarcasm this time. He had just never seen his brother so attentive with a girl before. It was a different look on him, a good look, suited him somehow.

Ananya fought hard to keep her eyes open, but 5 mins later she was fully gone. Out like a light on Jude’s shoulder. Both her hands loosely wrapped around his elbow.

Jude paused the game, and Jobe yelled ‘what the fuck’ but shut up immediately when Jude shushed him, looking at Ananya’s sleeping form.

‘I’ll be back.’

Jude whispered softly, and moved carefully to pick her up. She stirred a little with the movement, her head finding its place in the crook of his neck. But his arms were familiar and comfortable.

‘What’s happening?’

She mumbled, half asleep. 

‘Taking you to bed.’

‘Mmmm but the game?’

‘It’s over.’

‘Who won?’

‘Who do you think?’

‘I knew it.’

Jude smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead, while carefully navigating the stairs. Her open hair were blocking his vision but he’d never tie them up willingly. 

He gently placed her on the bed, and she cocooned into her usual sleeping position. Jude tucked her in, but when he started to move away she felt around for his hand.

‘What happened, babe?’

‘You’re not coming in?’

‘Jobe needs a few things. Be back in a bit yeah?’

‘Ok, come soon.’

Jude kissed her forehead and she smiled in contentment, falling back to sleep in next 15 seconds. He turned down the lights and quietly made his way down.

The game somehow didn’t seem as important anymore. 

They finished it off soon. Jude won 3-2. A hard fought win. But he didn’t rub it in Jobe’s face much, given the way he was sulking already. In fact, Jude reached over, grabbed his face and gave him a sweet peck on his cheek. Jobe didn’t pull away from the warmth and comfort that was his brother. A steady presence by his side, always.

‘Hope I didn’t put you in trouble.’

Jobe said as they were wrapping up to go to bed.

‘Nah, its fine. And I got you back for that.’

‘Yeah that was evil.

‘Evil genius you mean.’

‘Just evil.’

‘Meh.’

Jude picked up her bag, her phone and some of his stuff as the brothers went up the stairs.

‘She’s nice.’

Jude turned back and smiled. Jobe smiled even more looking at his silly face.

‘She is, isn’t she?’

‘Who are you and what did you do to my commitment phobic brother?’

‘I honestly don’t know.’

‘It’s crazy though. Like look at you, bro. No one else knows?’

‘Nope.’

‘Didn’t think you had it in you to keep a secret for so long. Especially from mum.’

‘I think she kinda senses though, but just letting me be.’

‘She always lets you be when it comes to girls.’

‘Don’t start complaining now. She lets you be too.’

‘Rubbish. She refuses to acknowledge I’m a grown adult.’

‘Coz you don’t act like one.’

‘Please, like you had to talk to her when I wanted to take that trip this summer.’

‘Coz you are her baby.’

Jude shifted the stuff in his hands to put his arm around Jobe’s neck, pulling his brother into his side.

‘And mine too. You’re everyone’s baby.’

‘Stop calling me a baby.’

‘Then stop having that face.’

They mock wrestled for 30 seconds, before falling into a hug.

As they were about to enter their adjoining rooms, Jobe grabbed Jude’s arm.

‘You look happy, bro.’

‘I am happy.’

‘Then I’m happy for you.’

Jude gave him another kiss to his cheek, and Jobe just smiled affectionately at his overly touchy brother. Jobe was convinced Jude would die if someone tied his hands for a few hours. He couldn’t function without grabbing / hugging / touching the people he was close to.

‘Tell me what she says about me.’

‘Even if it’s bad?’

‘Yeah. But we both know she liked me, despite the fiasco you tried to cause.’

‘We’ll find out.’

‘Have you told her yet?’

‘Told her what?’

‘What you feel about her.’

‘Yeah I always tell her how pretty she is. How I love being around her. How happy she makes me.’

‘What else?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is that all you’ve told her?’

‘I mean - I tell her a lot of things. Good things. Seriously what do you mean?’

Jobe just shook his head in amusement. Sometimes he couldn’t understand how he was the younger one and Jobe was supposed to be the older one. His brother could be so thick sometimes, not seeing the obvious, not seeing what Jobe could see in a few hours. It was written all over his lovesick face.

But it was not his place to intervene. Not unless Jude fucks up somehow and needs Jobe to spell it out to him. Hopefully they won’t come to that. 

‘Nothing. Was just saying generally. Night, bro.’

‘Night, BABY.’

‘Such a prick.’

Jobe muttered under his breath as he shut the door in Jude’s face.

Jude retuned to his room, hearing Ananya softly snoring under the covers. He really should record that sometime, because she flatly refused to acknowledge her snoring. It was cute though, so he let the sham continue.

He removed the covers to see if she managed to get up & change. But she hadn’t. Still out like a light. It was a torture not being able to do what he wanted with that dress, and with her. 

But he’ll have to wait till morning. 

The stockings looked super uncomfortable to sleep in so he decided to take those off. He had wondered all night how high they went up her legs. Turned out they went super high, till her upper thighs. He reached for the ends, and slowly pulled them down, one by one, letting his fingers graze her legs in the process. Then he lifted her fitted dress up to her waist, letting her have some flexibility to move her legs while asleep. The whole thing he didn’t wanna take off, not wanting to test his restraint that much.

Morning couldn’t come fast enough.

When she felt the bed dip next to her, she automatically moved towards the source of that movement, into his waiting arms. He pulled her into his side, letting her find a comfortable spot to snuggle into. The sound of her soft snores and the feel of her soft body lulling him to sleep, despite a certain part of his anatomy demanding his attention. He willed that part to calm down, promising it enough attention in the morning. Right now, what he had in his arms was more important. 

Jobe’s words rang in his mind.

Yes, Jude was happy. He was very happy being with her.

...................................................................

There you go.

Honestly, after the events of last few days, I didn't think I'd come back to writing this soon. But your messages brought me back. I love love love reading those. Thank you so much for all the love you shower on Jude & Ananya.

And yes - Ch 15 is clear in my head too :)

[lovebugism]

hi babe hope this isn’t too personal but not having the greatest time right now. therapist did not answer any of my calls today so im kinda a mess 🥲🥲 if you’re willing to write any kind of comfort fic with any character that would be the best 💗💗💗

hi anon! i hope things are going better now! take this eddie munson comfort fic as my attempts to make you feel a wee bit better ily mwah <3

You were pretty good at taking care of yourself most of the time. Eddie always thought your innate sense of responsibility was extremely hot — mostly because it meant that you were even better at taking care of him.

He said it was a perk of being your boyfriend — “one of many,” he’d say, just before smacking a kiss to your cheek.

You were the yin to his yang in that way. Peace in all his chaos.

Eddie, himself, was a being who thrived on mayhem. There wasn’t a single thing he loved more than unpredictability — well, you, of course. Then maybe DnD. But spontaneity was a close third.

He isn’t quite sure how to live his life without the company of total disarray. He isn’t sure he would want to if he had the chance either. The unexpected makes things fun. At least, that’s what he always tells you. You’re not so sure.

When he makes you late to things because of his horrible time management skills, or he can’t find his keys because they’re hidden somewhere underneath a pile of clothes in the corner of his room, it feels a little like the end of the world.

And not just in the oh no, this thing is really stressing me out; good thing I know it’s illogical sort of way. But in the oh fuck, we’re gonna be ten minutes late to this get-together where there are zero consequences whether we show up or not, but it’s inducing so much panic that I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to function properly.

You’ve gotten pretty good at hiding your fear over the years. It’s just that Eddie’s so damn attuned to everything going on in your head that it makes it insanely difficult to wallow in your dread alone.

He knows when you start pacing and talking a million miles a minute that something’s working you up. He knows when you start getting snappy and don’t think his jokes are funny anymore that you’re close to your breaking point. He knows when you stop talking altogether that your entire world is caving in around you.

So Eddie takes great care in getting to things on time and tidying up his room when you're around. He doesn’t even care that he finds it all a bit irrational, he just wants to make things easier for you. Even if it means getting to Steve’s house an hour before everyone else or actually folding his clothes before putting them in drawers.

Eddie knows you use structure like a weapon rather than a shield. Organization isn't a way to keep your life together, it’s to keep it from falling apart. When something is out of order, when there’s one piece out of place, it’s not an easy fix — not for you. It’s more like a ticking tomb. 

You’re the ticking time bomb. And the faintest scent of disorder is bound to make you explode.

But maybe calling it a bomb isn’t the most accurate way to describe it. The way Eddie sees it, it’s a lot more like an avalanche.

It starts off small, a little rumble of uncertainty that jostles the comfort of your routine. You blink and suddenly the snowball weighs two tons and you’ve spiraled into a full-blown crisis that threatens to swallow you whole.

You don’t let anyone see any of it. Not even Eddie a lot of the time. You just bury yourself in the landslide until the heavy snow melts and you can function normally again — it may last a couple hours, maybe weeks.

So it’s a good thing Eddie can see all the warning signs before they start.

It’s all the little shit he notices first — the not showering as often, the not keeping things as tidy as usual, the closing yourself off. Eddie Munson knows a depression room when he sees one. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know you’re slipping.

But rather than acknowledge that boogeyman, he pretends like it isn’t there at all. He thinks if he acts like it doesn’t scare him, then it doesn’t have the power to hurt him. That’s exactly how he treats the funks you get into. He knows they’re there but doesn’t let them take over completely.

Eddie comes around whenever he gets the chance and helps you do your self-care routine — even though all you do is complain that you don’t need his help the entire time.

He coaxes you into the bath and tidies up your bedroom while you’re gone. He does all the steps of your skincare for you after because he knows you can’t do it yourself. You’re too tired to, but you feel like shit when you don’t. That’s the same bitter cycle that started this whole mess.

He doesn’t do anything crazy. He just takes care of the little things to make you feel less consumed by it all.

You’re a pouting mess in the middle of your bed after, freshly cleaned and drowning in a too big shirt that smells like the musk of Eddie’s cologne with a towel twisted up in your hair. It’s almost cartoonish, the way you cross your arms over your chest and scrunch your face in displeasure.

“I don’t want you to do all this stuff for me, Eds,” you gripe. “I’m a big girl, okay? I can do it myself.”

The boy shrugs from where he stands at the foot of your bed. “I know I don’t have to. I want to, though. I like doing this stuff for you.”

“You hate cleaning, Eddie.”

“Yeah. I do,” he affirms with a nod, all but flopping onto the mattress beside you. He rests his head on his fist and blinks up at you with wide, twinkling button eyes. A grin pulls at his pink lips as he asks you, “But you know what I don’t hate?”

You huff but entertain him anyway. “…What?”

“You,” he beams and taps the tip of your nose with his pointer finger.

You meet his smile with a grimace.

“Actually, I sort of love you, as it turns out,” he corrects himself in a lilt. “And when you love someone, you do the shit you hate to make them happy, right? Isn’t that what it’s all about?”

You don’t answer him, just shrug.

“Well, either way, I’m happy to do all the boring shit if it means there’s a chance I get to make you feel even a little bit better,” Eddie tells you, pinching his thumb and forefinger together and leaving just an inch or more of space to squint his eye through.

That hand flops down and lands on your thigh. His thumb absentmindedly rubs over the skin there. His smile turns sheepish.

“I will happily fold laundry and do taxes and wash dishes and… all that stupid, boring shit for you for the rest of my life, as long as I can look over and see you next to me…”

Your heart swells with a distant happiness you haven’t felt in weeks.

Eddie helps you until you feel better enough to do it yourself.

Needless to say, when he stops by your place and finds it completely spotless, he doesn’t bother to hide his excitement. He rushes to your room and finds you in bed, flipping through a book. The small radio on your bedside table plays something synth-y.

He realizes you’ve traded in The Smiths for The Psychedelic Furs and that your lavender candle is burning on your desk and that you’ve spritzed yourself in your vanilla perfume.

Those are all staples in your little routine that you borderline can’t live without. You always missed out on them when you got into your funks, but here they are again…

Eddie tries not to smile too wide.

“How’s it hangin’?” he sing-songs when he waltzes into your room.

“Fine...” you murmur, half-distracted by your novel. After a few long seconds, your eyes finally flit up to his. He’s doing a terrible job of hiding a grin. “…Why are you looking at me like that?”

Eddie shrugs as he takes off his leather jacket. He neatly lays the thing over the back of your desk chair and smooths out the wrinkles.

“‘Cause I love the shit out of you,” he answers like it’s nothing, like the words don’t mean everything to you. “And I’m really fucking proud of you.”

“Proud of me?” you echo in a scoff.

Because, to you, crawling out of a three week long funk is hardly something to be proud of. You don’t feel like you should be rewarded for being human, but Eddie knows that getting through the hard shit is a part of being human. And he’s so goddamn proud of you for it.

“Yep,” he nods with pink cheeks and a hopeful grin. “I’ve never been prouder of you, babe. And, like, I’m always proud of you, so that’s saying something.”

“Shut up,” you mutter under your breath. Your attention flits back to your book rather than focusing on the intense gaze Eddie looks at you with. You don’t get through a single sentence before he rips the thing from your hands. “Eddie!—”

You look at him again and find that he’s sterner now, but still so tender — chocolate eyes hardened but soft around the edges. There’s a kind grin on his and an air about him that tells you he’s serious. 

Eddie rounds your bed and plants himself at the edge of it. He keeps your book hostage in one hand and holds onto your calf with the other, running his thumb over the soft skin of your knee.

“I’m serious,” he tells you. “Like, I know shit gets hard for you sometimes, but... I don't know, watching you get through it is… really fucking cool, babe.”

He laughs when it makes you laugh.

“Seriously. It’s like you get stronger every day, and… not to be a total sap or whatever, but I feel really lucky that I get to see it.”

You’re not sure whether to duck away from his gaze or revel in its warmth. You manage somehow to do both with a distant pout on your face. 

Eddie’s grin widens until the dimple in his right cheek reveals itself.  “What?” he laughs. “What’s that look for?”

“‘Cause you’re nice to me,” you mumble like the cutest little storm cloud. “And it’s gross… And also I love you.”

“Well, get ready, babe. You got a whole lifetime of me being nice to you coming your way, so… Be prepared to be sick of me by the time we’re all old and wrinkly, alright? ‘Cause I’m still gonna love the shit outta you then.”

You grumble when he smacks a kiss to your knee.

You hope he keeps his promise.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

my house of stone, your ivy grows (Whittaker! Master x reader)

Summary: you find yourself growing feelings for the person who's supposed to be your enemy

Warnings: Dhawan! Doctor and Whittaker! Master (whoo!), secret relationship, worries of possible disownment (it doesn't happen), this has a pretty happy ending given the direction I could've gone with it

A/N: I don't know if anyone will read this because I'm not sure how popular Whittaker's version of The Master is but I find her to be incredibly attractive mkay. and I've currently been obsessed with evermore so naturally I just had to write another song fic, this time based loosely off ivy (my other evermore based fics are still wips, but I plan on finishing and posting those soon <3)

You didn't know how you went from despising The Master to loving her, but it had happened. All too fast and all too soon for you to recognize until you were in too deep to pull yourself back out again.

Her tidal wave swept over you, the rough waves keeping you from swimming back to shore, threatening to drown you if you made the wrong move. But they never would, because as unbelievable as it was, she loved you back.

You were just a simple house that stood out in the woods somewhere, abandoned, old, forgotten. Until her ivy was planted. It grew and grew, spreading quickly until you found yourself completely engulfed.

You would never be the same again. You could never give her up. And she could never take away her love without destroying you both in the process.

The way it came about was simple, really. You and The Doctor were under attack yet again by some alien species for trying to fix whatever damage they'd created, causing you to be separated.

You'd been hiding, doing your best not to get caught when you heard a silky voice coming from behind you.

"You know, if you're trying to avoid being seen, there's not the best place to do it."

Knowing who it was, you turned hesitantly, coming face to face with The Master.

"I could see you from your little 'hiding spot' miles away, and I have no doubt the people you're hiding from could, too." She had a smug look on her face, almost as if she was proud for calling you out on your poor decision making.

"What do you want?" You asked with a frown, immediately under the impression that she was up to no good.

She made a face of mock offense. "What, I can't offer you some simple, life saving advice?"

"You can't, no. Not without wanting something in return." You eyed her suspiciously, trying to figure out what her game plan was in being here.

"Oh, really? And why's that?" She leaned forward, her piercing eyes staring right into yours. Unlike most individuals she came across, you didn't look away.

"Because you're always up to something. You always have to have an ulterior motive," you said calmly, not at all deterred by her closeness.

The Master had to admit, she was impressed by both your reasoning and your lack of fear. "Alright, fine. I'll admit it, me giving you some piss poor advice is not the only reason why I'm here." She straightened herself back up, no longer standing as close. "I'm here because..." She let out a deep sigh, looking away. "I was- worried about you."

You let out a laugh at her statement. "You were worried about me?"

"Don't laugh." The Master snapped at you suddenly, shooting you a glare. "I didn't have to come rescue you, you know. I could've just left you here. To die."

"But you didn't. Because you were worried about me," you lightly teased, finding it amusing that one of the most ruthless and ambitious people in the universe cared enough to save the companion of their enemy.

She groaned in frustration. "Yes, okay, fine. I was worried, alright? Is that what you want to hear?" She held out a glove cladded hand for you to take. "Now, do you want to get out of here and survive, or not?"

You decided it would be wise not to push anymore of her buttons, as it was entirely possible she could change her mind and actually leave you there. So, you simply nodded in response, taking her hand and allowing her to guide you away from the fighting and back to her TARDIS. She then dropped you off at a safer location nearby, making sure you agreed not to mention any of what'd happened to The Doctor.

"I won't tell a soul, I swear," you'd promised her, your words sincere. It almost looked like she was smiling when the TARDIS doors shut. Then she was gone, leaving you to face The Doctor and his worried filled questions alone, but not before taking a piece of your heart with her.

You'd caught up with her again at some sort of alien marketplace, gifting her one of the planet's many different kinds of flora as a gift, your own way of saying 'thank you for saving me'. She'd accepted it wholeheartedly, setting it someplace beside her bed so it would be the last thing she'd see every night before she went to sleep, and the first thing she'd see every morning when she woke.

Your first true 'date' was the time she left a note on your dresser (how she got it there, you'll never know) telling you to dress somewhat fancy and be ready by nine. She took you to see the first ever showing of the musical Cats, of all things, though it was really just an excuse to see you again. Regardless of whether you enjoyed the show or not, the night ended on a high note (pun intended) when she gave you a gift of her very own; a kiss.

This back and forth dance of sneaking away together and leaving each other again when it was finally time to part went on for months, and though you never put a name on it, it was quite clear to both you and everyone else that you were head over heels in love.

You thought the two of you could be like that for the rest of eternity, hiding out from unknown forces who planned to take you away from her arms, cherishing each other in secret while your enemies threatened to rip you both apart and tarnish your new found love had they known. But as you had learned from your many travelings, nothing could last forever.

The Doctor had noticed you were acting differently. You'd been staying out later and later, and seemed much more occupied with whatever was going on in your mind than any adventures he took you on. As it was none of his business, he really didn't want to pry, but eventually his curiosity got the best of him and he just had to know.

He was tinkering with some sort of ancient alien tech when you walked into the TARDIS's control room.

"Whatcha working on?" You questioned as you made your way over.

"Oh, nothing. Just a piece of junk, really."

You nodded at his response, completely unaware of the absolute bomb of a question he was about to drop.

"Have you been seeing anyone recently?"

You froze, unsure how to process what he just said. "...what?"

"It's just-" he set down what he'd been holding on a nearby table and sighed. "You've been acting differently, these past couple of months. And, it's not that it's necessarily a bad thing, as you seem to be much happier, I'm just- curious, to find out why. Meeting someone new and being in a relationship can definitely cause that, so I was just asking."

You didn't know how to respond. Of course, you were seeing someone. Someone you probably shouldn't be. You didn't want to lie to him, but you knew he was bound to find out the truth eventually, so...

"I am seeing someone, actually." You said cautiously, testing the waters.

The Doctor perked up at this new piece of information. "Really? That's wonderful! Tell me, who are they? What are they like?"

You sucked in a deep breath while making a face that was full of pure nervous energy. "You won't like it."

"Nonsense! I'm sure I'll like whoever you've decided to take as a potentional life partner."

You blinked a few times at his choice of words before shaking your head, deciding it'd be best to just ignore it entirely. "Are you positive? 'Cause I... I just really don't want you to hate me." You said awkwardly, accompanied by some weak laughter.

He frowned slightly at your words. "That's ridiculous, I could never hate you. Now, tell me, who is it? Come on, I promise I won't be too mad," he lightly joked as he gave you a reassuring smile. "I trust your judgment, I'm sure they're fantastic, whoever this person is-"

"It's The Master," you suddenly blurted out, knowing the longer you listened to his praise the worse it would feel once you finally disappointed him. "I'm- I'm seeing The Master."

The Doctor just stood there, a look of bewilderment frozen on his face. "...what?"

You let out a sigh, having expected this kind of reaction already."It's The Master," you affirmed, having crossed the point of no return. "I- I know you're probably upset, and rightfully so, but she's really not that bad, once you get to know her-"

"Has she hypnotized you?" This time, it was you who was getting cut off mid sentence. "Has she threatened to hurt you in any way? Is she forcing you to go traveling with her?" Surprisingly enough, he didn't sound mad, like you thought he would. He didn't look it, either. He just seemed to be the reasonable amount of concerned.

You shook your head no at his questions. "No, she hasn't. I travel with her because I want to, because I like doing it. She-" you voice became slightly quieter as you recounted one of the many dates she'd taken you on "-she took me to see the aurora borealis, once. On a planet that had been completely covered in snow and ice."

That trip was especially vivid in your memory, partially due to how many layers you had to wrap up in so you wouldn't get cold. The part you remembered the most, though, was when The Master had noticed you'd forgotten to bring a pair of gloves with you, and took off her own in an effort to help keep your hands warm.

She could've just given you her gloves to wear, which might've been easier, but she hadn't, choosing to take your hands tightly in hers instead. That was the first time she'd ever done that, both in holding your hand properly and taking off her gloves in front of you.

The Doctor noticed the look of calm that washed over you when you were talking about her, one that not even hypnotism could conjure up. "Do you love her?" He asked softly, already getting a sense as to what the answer might be.

"Yes, I do." You professed as your eyes met his. His gaze was understanding and warm, the exact opposite of what you'd thought it'd be.

"Well, if that's the case-" He began, walking over to the TARDIS's control panel and fiddling around with it some "-then I suppose I have no choice..."

You sucked in a breath of air, incredibly tense as you waited for him to say what he was going to do with you. Maybe he'd just throw you in a black hole and be done with it. Or, worse, maybe he'd drop you off on some random planet somewhere where there was absolutely no chance for survival.

"...but to take you to see her." He finished with a flourish as the TARDIS landed. The Doctor opened the door and stepped outside, gesturing for you to follow him.

"This had better be good," a voice grumbled from in front of you, belonging to none other than The Master herself. Her gaze softened when she spotted you, though it didn't last very long, her eyes narrowing at The Doctor in suspicion. "What's all this?"

"I just wanted to say-" He turned, beckoning you to come closer "-that I know about your relationship with each other. And I'm not mad. In fact, I'm delighted."

You and The Master exchanged a look of confusion and disbelief. The Doctor noticed this, continuing nonetheless.

"It's true. Now, I know we haven't always been on the best of terms-"

"That's one way to put it," The Master muttered, crossing her arms.

"-but I don't want to make any unnecessary assumptions about the two of you. And while part of me does believe this could possibly be some sort of an eleborate plan to take me down-"

"Doctor," you whispered harshly, The Master smirking in amusement at your reaction.

"-I also don't want to define you only by your past mistakes." If he heard you, he didn't show it.

"I have a million reasons why I shouldn't trust you." The Doctor said directly to the clearly unimpressed woman standing in front of him. "But so did they, and now look where we are."

His words seemed to actually have an affect on her given how she'd uncrossed her arms and appeared to be actually listening. Until she opened her mouth. "So what is this then, you deciding to give us your blessing?" She sneered, going back to being defensive.

"Master." You took a step forward, offering your hand out to her, which she gladly took. "I think what he's trying to get at here, is that even if he doesn't trust you, he's not going to judge or shame me for doing the exact opposite. I can still be friends with him while also seeing you. That's all I've ever wanted."

The words you spoke seemed to have finally gotten to The Master. The ever permanent scowl she usually had on her face when being forced to interact with The Doctor disappeared, replaced by the faintest smile that only you could discern.

The Doctor clapped his hands together once in satisfaction. "Great! I'll leave you two to it, then."

The Master rolled her eyes in annoyance, causing you to let out a quiet giggle. "Yeah, you do that," she sarcastically replied, watching as The Doctor entered the TARDIS.

You waved him goodbye before turning back to the Time Lady in front of you. "So, where to now?" You asked excitedly, giving the hand you were holding a gentle squeeze.

She squeezed yours back, a twinkle of mischief in her eyes. "Wherever you want."

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[theheraldsrest]

“Companions React to Inquisitor hiding their newest injuries”

Hahahaha. So many feels. Also, don't worry if some stuff might move. Ficing things.

-Lord Lex

Cullen

-It would take this man forever to notice. Not out of negligence but he tries to mind his own business. The first time he sees it, possibly a time when you drop the enchantment, he’s startled and asks how it’s happened before apologizing for intruding on the matter. If you tell him the truth, he’ll be outraged and ask if you’d like him to do something about it.

Josephine

-Pays a little more attention than Cullen but still tries to respect your privacy. She knows something’s up, whether it be flinching or turning your face in an unusual fashion. When her concern grows, she tries to bring it up as delicately as possible. If you show her, she’s horrified and tells you how sorry she is and how she’ll do anything in her power to reprimand the person.

Leliana

-More or less one of the first to notice but won’t bring it up. It’s your business, she will not intrude on it. Now if you do bring it up and/or show her, she will be livid. The thought of you getting hurt because of some noble snob and she had not been told goes against her job. You can bet she will find a way to make that noble’s life a living hell and that he begs for death. Yeah, she’s a little ticked.

Vivienne

-Do not, whatever you do, tell her it’s new. If she gets even a whiff that you have an untreated injury that you’re hiding with magic, she’s going to give you a lecture. If it’s new? Oh she’s going to be on a man hunt. Will demand to know who hurt you so that she can repay the favor. The Ice Queen will not hesitate, bitch.

Varric

-He knows. He just does. He knows how to hide secrets well but he can also tell when others are hiding something. But he’ll respect your choice…unless it’s something that is harming you/has harmed you. Then he’s gonna oh-so-subtley and very gently tell Cassandra to check on you. What? He’s not a touchy-feely person but he’ll make sure his friends are good, healthy, and not badly injured.

Cole

-Cole knows it’s there and may or may not know the reason behind it. But he knows it hurts, so you’ll usually find things that make you happy suddenly pop up almost out of thin air. Will even leave solvents or herbs that can help with injuries becuase you flinch from it. Doesn’t mean to but he will point it out if some pain starts to settle in or someone sees you flinch.

Solas

-Oh? Illusionary magic? Whatever for? Solas can recognize it a mile away and yet won’t bother you about it unless it starts to become worrisome. Will pull you away from others and try to ask you if it’s something he can assist with. If you do allow him to help, he’ll either help try to heal it or help you to better hide it. It’s your choice after all.

Cassandra

-Remember the last post that said she’d be livid? Yeah, this is worse. Worse for the person who caused it, not you. She’ll respect your space but will try to make sure it’s not cuasing you any pain. Josephine does tell you that someone who seems to have a connection to the Pentaghasts had been seen threatening the nobleman. Cassandra will not confirm nor deny anything.

The Iron Bull

-Once more, believes people should show their scars with pride. But will respect you wanting to keep it hidden. Of course, he can tell when a scar is recent. And there’s a reason he’s known (or was known) as one of the best damn spies. He’ll find the noble and do whatever he thinks will fit for what the noble did. The punishment should match the crime, after all.

Dorian

-He knows due to his years of study with the different types of magic. Plus, traces of magic just so happened to suddenly appear around your face after that stiff night at that party? He can connect the dots. His first question is would you like some help with trying to heal it. His next question is how do you want like your noble served? Burned, fried, or frozen?

Sera

-People think Sera is stupid or oblivious. On the contrary, she’s observant when she wants to be. And she can see something is up with your face. Unlike the others, though, she’ll question and get into your business. If you tell her what happened, she’ll nod say ok and walk away. Which is very worrying. Until you find out someone had filled up said noble’s house with bees. It’s a big house.

Blackwall

-Forgive him, he tries to mind his business. Also doesn’t notice things immediately. If you let it slip, he’ll feel stupid that he hadn’t noticed and ask if you need to talk about it or if you need anything to soothe the pain. Another person who, if you tell him what had happened, will be outraged and promise you that the noble will get their comuppance. Don’t worry about him talking to Sera later about how many bees she needs, it’s a different matter. Definitely.

[sorryseraphim]

For a moment, her mind was miles away, imagining piles of bodies, hundreds of them around her. A few, she thought, will be made as an altar for her father, where her final resting place will be, as she offers her life as the final sacrifice—the grandest offering of them all.

“Helene, are you still with us?" 

In an instant, she was pulled back from reality. Looking at where the voice came from, her face soured, and her mood shifted from dreamy to disdain—Enver, looking at her, a smirk on his face as he waited for her reply. “I am. I'm just trying to envision the plan, that's all. Forgive me if I look disinterested in your discussion.”

"Perhaps you want to take the lead? I will be truly honored to have your ideas laid on this table.” 

Her ears rang from anger as she listened to him speak; he was clearly mocking her in front of everyone at the table. She clenched her jaw, swallowing harsh words she had been dying to spit into his face.

“I would love to, if only Banites knew how to appreciate a Bhaalist works. It's a shame, really, that they cannot comprehend how much glory and satisfaction one achieves after each offering.” 

She could have said what's really on her mind, but the tension across the table is already evident, a few of their nearest officers nervously glancing from one another. The look in Envers’ eyes only darkened as her words landed on him. Her lips curled into a composed smile, tilting her head a little. 

“Then please do enlighten us. I'm open to suggestions and other prepositions.”

"And let you lose face and composure in front of everyone at this table? I will let you be the center of this scheme, Gortash.”

She noticed how his jaw clenched briefly. It was an easy, instinctive nature for her to drive people mad through words; it's easier to target them when they're consumed by anger and make irrational decisions. She met his gaze with a smug, still smiling slyly, daring him to hit back.

“Well, if you insist. This most generous gift requires the best return gesture. Let's continue for now, but know, I'm already thinking of one.” He replied as he broke their meeting gaze. 

And they did carry on—reports of their respective cults' rising numbers laid out in front of them. Helene couldn't help but notice a few stolen glances Gortash threw at her. 

Her brows furrowed every time she caught his gaze. Focusing hard on the discussion, but now and then, her gaze would also fall on Enver. As her thoughts start getting impatient and threaten to spill, she quietly tries to detect his thoughts. 

Doing so is always a bad idea, but if she lets her irritation get the best of her, it'll be a mess that will derail this whole plan. With a quick flick of her fingers under the desk, she suddenly saw what was on Enver’s mind: Them on this very table, her bent down by the edge, her clothes ripped, Enver aggressively fucking her as he pulled her hair, her back bent, she can see him from behind. She felt her cheeks burn at the sight of his vivid imagination.

Enver continued to watch her. His expression was amused, intrigued even, as he let his mind show her his thoughts. He knew he had gotten under her icy facade, but he hadn't realized to what extent he had made her crack. His body seemed to radiate energy as he saw how her breath hitched at the idea of him on top of her. She was trying to keep control of her thoughts, but it was apparent she was starting to lose the battle. 

“I need to take a moment. Do carry on and fill me in once I'm back.” Composing herself, Helene left the room with long strides, almost tempted to shut the door as loud as she could. Enver felt a little smug about her sudden exit, and he let himself believe she was feeling exactly the way he'd intended her to. This is him settling the score as she tried to humiliate him earlier. 

She paced back and forth down the hallway, feeling a sudden urge to release the anger building up inside her. No, she thought, this feeling washing over her is entirely different. It's the strange feeling of desire.

She started laughing at the thought. Her, letting him fuck her that way? It's absurd! Degrading according to her standards. But what if the roles are reversed, her mind fought back. What if she was on top, grinding her waist, teasing him as she moved up and down his length, letting him feel the walls of her cunt, making him want more but leaving him unsatisfied to make him irritated. Mad. Just want she needs to kill Gortash without him expecting it. 

But what if it's true? The pleasure of sex is just as much pleasure as committing murder. She slapped herself as soon as the thoughts flooded her again. This is not how she plays this game of his. At once, she gathered her thoughts and braced herself as she returned to the room. 

As soon as she stepped in, he glanced at her and kept the same pleasant smirk on his face. He could see the flush to her cheeks and the subtle way she breathed faster from her little... break. 

Their eyes met, and he laughed, the sound coming out in a slightly mocking manner. "You seem a little out of breath," he said, his smile widening.

“I am fine, Gortash. I took a walk down the hall and back.”

Enver only gave her a knowing grin before he replied. "My my, so stoic and self-controlled! Surely there is nothing I have done to stir up your emotions?” 

“Are you done? Or do I need to cut your tongue from your mouth, and I can finish this plan of yours on my own?” He smiled softly at her response. This was a test of her self-control, and Gortash was very satisfied—for now.

"Yes, of course." He raised his voice to address the rest of the gathering. "We're planning," he said, nodding toward their allies and returning to his commanding tone. She kept a straight face the entire time, not meeting his gaze. She was tempted to drive her dagger down his eyes and feast on his flesh. 

If she could only do it, it’d be worth every instance he mocked her ever since the beginning of this partnership. 

Later that night, Helene found herself restless as she performed her duties at the temple. Despite trying to distract her mind from the strategic discussion earlier, it somehow finds its way back to her, making her more irritated than ever. 

After finishing up the rites for the dead and offering for the father, she went straight to her chambers, where she found a note delivered to her. She didn't know when it was delivered, but she immediately knew who it was from as soon as she picked it up. 

The cursive writing, smooth and neatly written on parchment, was from Gortash. 

“Lady Helene, we'd highly appreciate your continuous verbal participation during our strategic talks. It's also highly encouraged and would be considered polite to just ask if you need to know what one's mind is thinking. 

You'll never know what you find if you continue to poke inside someone's brain.

With high regards,

Enver Gortash”

All the anger she felt earlier reached its peak. In a fit of rage, she slammed her fist on the desk, empty vials bouncing and rolling down the floor. The audacity to continue to mock her was something she would not tolerate. And yet, that same feeling was starting to stir again, making her slap her face hard to shake her core. 

The image she captured from his head continued to torment her, how he locked her arms on her back, pushing his cock to her tenderness from behind, both visibly panting hard as their bodies became one. How she could see herself engulfed by pleasure made her shudder in disgust, but her body said otherwise; she could feel herself aroused by the thought, longing to feel it in reality. 

She picked up the letter and tore it to shreds, the pieces scattered on the floor. She breathed deeply, trying to calm herself as she fixed her hair. He can't win, she thought. No way, she needed to plot her revenge. Once the plan was put to motion and the alliance was being solidified, she'd made Gortash believe it couldn't be bent, and when he least expected it, she would strike, and it'd be worth it and so sweet. 

—

“Where are you taking me? You know too many secluded places for a beautiful girl like you.” 

“We’re almost there. I know you are very excited.”

Leading a stranger inside the temple was already hard. It is harder to keep the illusion that they are walking in an unknown part of the city. One wrong move and the concentration breaks, this man will know the location of Bhaal’s temple. She hates to kill him before she even gets what she wants.

“Where are we even? Do you live here?”

“You ask too many questions.” 

It took everything in her to push her lips towards the man. Pushing her tongue in, she allowed him to slowly pull the strings of her dress she purposely chosen for tonight when she went out. This is not her usual self. Normally feared and respected by her subordinates for her reserved and strict nature, she peeled off such an attitude to satisfy this hunger she couldn’t discern. Just this once, she thought. 

Earlier that night and before all this, she went to the Elfsong Tavern to get a drink, sitting mindlessly, barely touching the ale she had ordered. She was deep in thought, formulating ways to get back at Gortash and his stupid letter. Several ideas are already populating her mind, eager to become a reality, when suddenly, a voice springs from her side. 

“You’re too pretty to be hanging around this lot.” 

She looked where the voice came from and almost jumped. For a second, she thought she was seeing Gortash. Blinking for a few moments, she felt relief. No, it’s not him, she thought. Although this man has the same build as him, the face is entirely different. And yet, the audacity felt so familiar that it boiled her blood with anger, reminding her again of his mockery earlier that day. 

And yet a smile curled into her face. This one will do, she thought. This one is perfect for my little trial and error. 

Thinking about how she had easily manipulated this man earlier made her feel victorious. Gortash is just a man, after all. Human, weak-minded, and easily deceived,  unlike her, made from divinity and Bhaal’s blood. Feeling his tongue inside her mouth disgusted her, especially as his hands started wandering up her thighs, lifting her dress all the way up until she was naked.

Not a hint of shame was visible on her face as the man laid her down on the cobblestone, hastily removing his trousers burying his lips into her neck. Why would she be afraid? She got him where she wanted him for her little experiment. In his eyes, they’re in someone’s backyard, lying on the grass as Helene would let him indulge in his carnal needs, but in reality, they are in front of her Father’s altar. He’d be the one she’d feast on later.

“You are so beautiful.” She heard him say, his eyes greedy and lustful. He’s already fucking me with his eyes, she thought. Dragging the act further, she bit her lip and crossed her legs, acting shy. Seemingly innocent from what he’s about to do. “Don’t be scared, I’ll be gentle. I’ll make it feel so good.” The man slowly inched towards her, parting her legs. She could see him almost salivating at the thought that she was a maiden and he’d be the first to take her. 

And as the man moved on top of her, he buried his cock deep inside her cunt immediately, greedily thrusting in and out of her. She bit her lip as a burning sensation filled her walls. She did not expect his length, although slender, to make her whimper for a bit. The man continued to prove relentless as he thrust within her, moaning. Sloppily kissing her neck, his hands wandered from her breasts down to her hips. 

“Heavens, you feel good.” It took everything inside her not to roll her eyes. Backhanded flattery, men would shower women with such words to make them feel good, she thought. Wondering how other people find this enjoyable, she pondered for a while how women would lay underneath men, letting them quench their thirst for some good fucking. Softly, she whispered, “Do you want me on top?” 

The man grinned at her. Quickly pulling out, he lay down and guided her on top of him. Holding her hips, she lined herself above his manhood and slowly sank herself. This is much better, she thought. Closing her eyes, slowly grinding, she felt her insides start to flutter. The man started moaning in return, his hands reaching out for her breasts, squeezing them with such intensity that it made her moan a little. 

Slowly, her vision blurred, imagining the man was Gortash. It does feel good. She was enjoying how much pleasure she received as she succumbed to the feeling. Looking down at him, she moved quicker, using her hands for support as she propped it above his chest. 

Helene stared at him for a while, her voice hitching at the thought of fucking Gortash filling her head. The idea of getting to know his body excites her unexpectedly; images of the vision he made visible earlier crept back to her head. How good can it be? His strong arms around her, pinning her down, forcing her to submission. Would he fight back as she tried to resist him and his charms? The thought drowned her, causing her to wet herself even further, soaking the man’s length as she moved up and down.

And yet, the thought of Gortash and his mockery washed over whatever desire was built in her head. The belittling, the constant reminder that she is just like him, Chosen by their God, made to work as equals.

I’m not like him; I’m more than him, she thought. 

Her hand began to inch towards the man’s neck, holding it gently. As she felt her walls start to clench, close to climax, so did her grip on his throat. She could hear him start to whimper, his hands grabbing her waist tightly. “Hey, it’s getting hard to breathe.” The man uttered as one of his hands started holding the one she used to hold his neck. 

Still, Helene didn’t stop moving as the man started trashing, his hands clawing desperately at her as her grip tightened. Finally, the illusion broke, the man's eyes widening as the entirety of the temple’s interior revealed itself. Looking back at Helene, he saw a wicked smile start to form. She leaned forward, brushing her lips to the man’s ears, whispering with malice and cruelty.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll be gentle.”

With a snap, the man lay lifeless underneath her. Sceleritas appeared next to her as if on cue, presenting her dagger with his bony hands. Without even bothering to dress herself up, Helene took the blade from his palms and started slashing, the man’s blood gushing from the numerous cuts she made, decorating the floor. The warmth of crimson against her skin made her grin, imagining the lifeless corpse was Gortash. 

With another graceful swing, she let her dagger slowly travel the man's chest, opening him up and exposing his insides, transforming her grin to a peal of sinister laughter. Ripping the man's heart out, she licked the dripping blood off her wrists, smiling afterward as she drowned from its taste, swirling inside her mouth.

“My lady, you may indulge yourself later, but the offering to your father must come first.” Sceleritas reminded her, the creature inching towards Helene as she devoured the man's heart out of her hands. She ignored him and crushed the organ with her teeth, crimson spilling all over her body as she pleased herself with its taste.

Yet a different feeling stirred inside her: Disappointment. The thought of him dead underneath her only had a short high, and then, it was gone, disappeared as soon as she finished eating the man's heart. It didn't even linger enough for her to revel in this successful trial; dismay seeped in immediately. In anger, she turned her attention towards the mangled body, ripping innards and scattering blood all over the floor.

In haste, Helene gathered everything she had harvested and dropped it inside the fire blazer. Frustration and rage-fueled the entire process of her offering. She uttered words of praise for her Father, which she knew by heart, and yet, her mind lingered on the thought of Gortash, who was lifeless and unmoving. 

There was something about his imminent death at her hands that bothered her. She can't immediately discern what it is, further driving her frustration. After her prayer, she marched down the altar, Sceleritas bowing for her as she grumbled and picked up her dress, drenched in blood, gore sticking at its hem. Eyeing the damage, she tossed it aside and proceeded to walk out of the offering circle.

“My lady, the perfect daughter of Bhaal, your offerings cannot be compared to anyone.” The goblin praised her as she walked past him.

“Don't pander, Sceleritas. I'm not in the mood to kill you again.” 

The creature bowed down even further, raising his hand where her dagger was. She took it from his palm and studied the blade. Surely, there’ll be a time when she could finally let him meet his end, but it would not be at the present. She needs him to further her own plans, but the torment from his arrogance and smugness, how would she deal with it without itching to end his life?

Slapping herself from the thought, she proceeds to walk back to her quarters, itching to wash her hair as blood stained its paleness. Glancing at the shredded letter, still lying on the floor. 

A mere mortal can’t best her. She can never be his equal. Helene would make sure he knew it and would never forget. 

[eleanor-bradstreet]

I’ll Be Seeing You (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x gn!Reader A modern zombie AU Rated/warnings: 18+, heavy angst, whump, gun use, slight gore, discussion of death and killing, zombie-fication Word count: 3.1k

Summary: After years surviving in a post-apocalyptic zombie landscape, you and Benedict find that your luck has run out. A sad zombie love story.

Author’s Note: Once again, a Discord joke gone awry becomes something I compulsively turn around and actually write. Is this even remotely related to Bridgerton? No. You can easily insert any man you fancy into this story. It’s just that Benedict is my muse, so here we are. For full effect, I recommend listening to the song after reading.

If you need to recover from the sadness of this story, go check out how it worked it's way into the beautiful, sexy love story Wide Open Spaces by @thebabblingbrookenook and/or if you enjoyed Benedict in an apocalyptic setting, check out her other masterpiece If The World Was Ending.

“Darling, it’s alright. You know this is the only way. It’s alright.” His tone was so calm, as if he were teaching you to drive a stick shift, not kneeling before you with your gun pressed to his forehead. 

You knew you were hyperventilating, your vision going blurry behind tears as your breath clawed ragged through your throat. Your hands hadn’t shaken this badly since the day the world fell, all those years ago. The gun felt like lead in your hands, suddenly so weighted with gravity, when before it had grown to feel like an effortless extension of your own arm. How many times had you swung it at a shambling figure or threatening foe and pulled the trigger without a second thought? It was a trained impulse, practically nonchalant, as easy and automatic as breathing.

Now it was the most inconceivable action you could take, as Benedict stared up at you through dark lashes beneath the barrel. He was so incredibly still, his blue-grey eyes so steely with resolve, as he waited for you to seal his fate and end his life. You had made it this far, to the spot you had designated for the act, the farmhouse two miles away from the settlement. You had known the entire way that this was the purpose of your journey, to mercifully execute your husband before he turned into one of those things. You hadn’t wanted to do it in the settlement or anywhere within eyesight. You didn’t want to go on looking at the place, reminded of where and when you had removed him from your life and from the world. So you were here, just the two of you, in a quiet abandoned home, surrounded by quiet abandoned fields, with nothing but your gun and a shovel that you had brought to bury him.

When he had confessed to you and the others in the settlement that he was bitten, a mishap of your latest supply run into the city, it felt as if all of your organs plummeted down an elevator shaft. You had lasted so long, evaded so many dangers, you had almost begun to feel invincible. So many others had died, your families and your friends and the errant packs of fellow survivors you had found yourselves with. No one lasted that long it seemed, except the two of you. Somehow, you had run and ducked and fought and wrenched yourselves out of every bind, a camaraderie and sense of shared destiny building so palpably between you. Benedict hadn’t been your husband when it all started, but when it was clear that you were the only constant things you could each rely upon in this new world, he had wanted to make your commitment official. He found a ring in some way you didn’t want to ask about, and you spoke vows to each other one night when the stars were radiant above you. It was as real and as provable as anything could be anymore, and it was the only thing that made you feel, in some strange way, hopeful for the future and happy to still be alive.

There was a protocol in the settlement when someone was bitten. Everyone knew what it was. The afflicted said their goodbyes and wrapped up their affairs before the fever set in, then they were dispatched by a loved one in a place of their choosing and buried with proper rites and respects. After the initial shock of his revelation, you had both defaulted to duty. There were new rules in this new life and you had to abide by them or die. It was that simple. When death was a hair’s breadth away every day, there wasn’t much space to get too emotional over anything. Survival was paramount. Survival of the settlement and survival of self. So when one of your number became an imminent threat, they had to be dealt with, respectfully but decidedly.

But absolutely none of that mattered anymore as you stared down at Benedict, physically feeling your heart break within your chest. He was all you had; the singular thing that had brought you any glimmer of joy or purpose over the past several years. Once he was gone, there was no reason for you to carry on. What was the point? To grow vegetables and stock ammunition in the settlement for years on end, waiting for the day when your luck would eventually run out and it would be you on your knees at the end of a gun? Who would even be designated to end you? You didn’t want it to be anyone but your beloved spouse which you realized, with a shuddering breath, was precisely what he was feeling in this moment.

The fever had set into him as you had trudged toward the farmhouse. He was pale and sweating, clearly fighting the tremors as he held your gaze, urging you on. It wouldn’t be long now until Benedict was snuffed out and the disease roared into sentience with its latest host, a microscopic puppeteer bearing his face and animating his limbs. He didn’t deserve it. No one did, but him least of all. He deserved the mercy you could grant with a simple sweep of your finger. But the agonizing hell of your guilt and the contemplation of innumerable days spent without him crippled you, and you dropped the gun with an anguished cry, falling to your knees in front of him.

“I can’t,” you sobbed, tossing the weapon to the floor. “Ben, I can’t. I’m sorry, I could never…I can’t.” You grabbed his hands and pulled them against your chest, somehow both an apology and a plea for his touch to mend the crack you felt growing there.

All of your guilt was immediately silenced when he wrapped his arms around you and pinned you to him, shushing your cries as you held each other in the dusty sunlight of the farmhouse kitchen floor. 

“Not you,” you whispered into his ear as he held you tight, the only thing keeping you from falling apart. “Not you.”

Then his hands were firm on the sides of your face and he kissed you, with more passion than you had ever felt, every ounce of love and sorrow and promise bound up in this single point of connection. He understood. Of course, he understood everything you were feeling. You didn’t need to apologize or explain. It was as if he could read your mind, an infuriating but astounding trait that he had always possessed.

“I know,” he whispered against your lips. “I couldn’t do this if it were you, either.” 

Your heart began to thud, with relief or anxiety or love, you weren’t sure. You were completely overwhelmed. 

“Then what do we do now?” You asked breathlessly, clinging onto him as if that was the answer, the way to keep him with you for as long as possible. 

You could feel his signature grin against your cheek. His tone was practically breezy. “Make the most of it.”

You pulled back and saw the crooked smile, genuine despite his ashen face. You were so lost in the turmoil of your feelings, so numb to the world outside of your entwined bodies, you couldn’t fathom what he was planning. He swiveled to look around the room and the next thing you knew, he had pulled you to stand and walked over to a piano that was tucked into a corner of the adjoining living room. The bench and instrument both had an inch of dust on them, as did everything in the world these days, and it puffed out as he slid the cover back off the keys. Trembling, you sat beside him on the bench and watched as his slender fingers, perpetually covered in grime as everyone’s were now, floated gracefully into place and tested the scale. Some notes were woefully out of tune, but the song he started to play was immediately familiar.

I’ll be seeing you, in all the old familiar places. A voice sang in the back of your mind from a time so distantly far away it seemed like a dream. You let the tears stream freely down your face, entranced by his magic ability to remind you of the way things used to be, a warm memory of something sure, a mild recollection of normalcy, of being carefree. His music wrapped around you, muting out the rest of the world, the horrors of the past few years, until all you saw and all you felt was this moment, sunlit and perfect and real. You watched his face, ravaged with toil and fever but beautiful nonetheless, with eyes closed and a hint of a smile, concentrating.

On his third round through the chorus the notes became discordant, breaking the spell. His hands fell away from the keys as he shook with tremors. Then he curled into himself and fell toward you. You wrapped your arms around him as his full weight sank against you.

“My love…” he gasped, “I’m…you need to go…”

You knew what he meant. You knew what was happening. But you had already made up your mind that you were not going to leave. If you could not bring him to his end, you would stay with him until he met it himself. You would not sacrifice a moment in his presence while he was still alive. Whispering assurances, you let him lean on you as you pulled him to his feet and began to drag him through the house toward the adjoining barn. He would turn. That was the guaranteed outcome of your inability to take his life, but at the very least, you could prevent him from being a danger to anyone else. 

He slumped to the floor of the barn with a groan as you leaned him up against a post. Fortunately, you were able to quickly find rope, always a safe presumption in barns, and you carried the coil over, kneeling beside him. You both knew what it was for but you weren’t going to make any moves until he agreed to it.

His eyes fluttered open, bleary, as he began panting. “Do it,” he rasped, “tie me up. Make sure it’s tight.”

With your hands shaking nearly as badly as they had with the gun, you wound the rope around his wrists then secured them behind the post at his back. 

“More,” he wheezed. “I can’t get out. I don’t want to get out.” With sobs closing around your throat, you looped the rope around his chest once, twice, three times, and tied that off too. Now he was immobilized, held firmly in place against the post so he couldn’t break free in any state. You sat in front of him, unable to contain your tears, watching as he grew more sallow each minute, sweat streaming down the sides of his face, gasping for air against both the fever and the ropes you had bound him with.

“Thank you, my love.” He choked. 

You couldn’t help but reach out and cup his face, and he nuzzled into your touch. “Ben,” you croaked, a cold despair surging through you as you realized these were your last words with each other. You had to make them count. “Thank you for making this life worth living. Thank you for saving me, in every way. I love you.” 

A softness gleamed out of his hazy eyes, a sparkle of the Benedict you had fallen in love with, and the shadow of that smirk flitted across his face for the final time. “I love you, darling. You saved me too.”

Guilt and love roiled within you like a landslide. The sincerity of his words, the memories of your life together, all colliding with the impenetrable truth that you were unable to save him this time. You didn’t know how else to apologize or how to express your devotion other than holding him. You curled yourself around him and clung as tightly as the ropes you had tied him with. He exhaled warmly into your neck and melted into you. Somehow, in that horrific moment in that dingy barn, at the end of your time together, you found stillness, contented stillness.

He murmured against you, barely above a whisper. “When I stop breathing, you must go. Promise me.”

Everything inside of you was shattering. You nodded numbly, already knowing what you planned to do when that dreaded moment arrived.

Then you lost all sense of time. Benedict grew more restless in your arms, jerking and shuddering as you felt the feverish heat pouring off of him. His teeth began to chatter and his breath became harsh and quick. Everything seemed to rise to a crescendo, a writhing, desperate battle for life that was suddenly and so quietly concluded with a long, low exhale as you felt him deflate beneath you. You had been bedfellows with death for so very long, had seen it in all of its myriad faces and had visited it upon countless individuals, but you had never been so close to someone dying. Had never been wrapped around them as you felt their breaths fade, and then their heart stutter and slow to nothing. It was spellbinding in how subtle it all seemed.

You sat in the chasm of silence that was the world without Benedict, feeling all of your joy and motivation to carry on float away with him. You allowed yourself one final wail, a closing salvo for your emotions, and then you were empty. You pulled away from him. His head, which had been resting heavy on your shoulder, sank to his chest. Sitting across from his body, you watched. Two minutes, maybe five, with no sound or movement other than the gentle breeze through the half-collapsed roof and the dance of dappled sunlight it let in. 

Then he moved. The telltale twitching began in his feet, then his shoulders, growing more pronounced as the world-ending pathogen took hold. At last, with a rattling groan, he raised his head and stared directly at you. Those eyes, milky and devoid of anything but animalistic hunger, were the eyes you saw in your nightmares. The eyes of the millions who had succumbed, who had turned into enemies, predators, things to be avoided and destroyed, now glaring out at you from the face of your husband.

But somehow, you were unafraid. You had lost the ability to feel anything other than resolve for your next actions. You were going to stay with him. It wasn’t even a decision you needed to make. It was the only conceivable way you could proceed.

He had started to snarl, leaning toward you, fighting against his restraints. The disease always turned the skin a mottled bruise green, and darkened veins into purple cracks spidering up from the neck. But you could still see him, your darling Benedict, under the surface. Nothing, not even death, could dim his beauty. If you had to face your end, you didn’t want it to be anyone but your beloved spouse, and this was the way.

As you had countless times before, you reached out and carded your fingers through his hair, caressing around his ear and down his jaw. You smiled at the familiar feeling of it and then closed your eyes against the pain as his teeth sank into your wrist. It was a stinging, crushing pressure, surprisingly warm as he tore into your flesh with guttural noises of satisfaction. His bite was so strong, you had to plant a knee on his chest for the leverage to yank yourself away, then stumbled to your feet clutching your injured arm. He gnashed at you angrily, somehow roaring without breath as he struggled against the ropes, the crimson of your blood streaming down his chin. 

It was done now. There was nothing more to fear, and the relief of it brought you an undeniable feeling of weightlessness. The path ahead was more certain than it had ever been since this new life began. You knew precisely what to do. 

Leaving Benedict growling at you from the floor, you gathered both of your belongings and piled them neatly inside the door of the farmhouse. Your guns, your packs, anything anyone else might find useful. Before you left your knife, you used it to carve into the wood of the post where Benedict was tied, standing just out of his reach. Both of your initials. A simple but certain note to any members of the settlement who might come looking for you. They hadn’t known where you were going, but they would notice when you didn’t return and would likely sweep out to this area in a few days. Whatever they might think of your choices, you could at least give them the courtesy of confirming where you had both ended up.

Then you took another length of rope and wound it through Benedict’s bindings and around the post, creating a lead a few feet long that you tied off tightly to your good wrist. Now there was nothing left to do but wait. You sat across from him again, feeling yourself grow dazed at the ceaseless sound of him seething at you. He had bitten you deeply and you hoped that would make the infection spread faster. You would fade, you would die, and then you would join him in whatever space he now found himself. 

Even with all the time that had passed, no one really knew what the things could feel or think. It wasn’t clear if they could sense each other, communicate, or feel pain. Perhaps they could. Perhaps this was just another plane of consciousness that you couldn’t understand from the outside looking in. What was clear was that they endured. Even without food, the brains kept going for years. If they weren’t destroyed, it seemed the only thing that would end the animation was the natural decay of time. 

If the settlement members found you both, they would dispatch you. Better them than you doing it to each other, and at least you would go at the same time to that final plane. And if no one found you, you would still be together, tied in a patch of sunlight, staring at each other for years to come. It was everything you could ask for, and you felt no fear approaching the horizon of that reality. 

You were willing to face some new kind of forever, as long as he was by your side.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp

[jungle-angel]

All Tied Up In You (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: After you’ve put the hotel behind you forever, you and Miles built a life together in Montana, but there are some moments where you get really tied up and lost in each other

Warnings: BIG SMUT WARNING (18+ Minors do not interact), oral, breeding kink, ropeplay etc. etc. 

Tagging: @sebsxphia @nobody7102​

It had been a hard day, a beautiful day but a hard one. Yet you and Miles would take this over running the hotel any day of the week. At last you could put it all behind you for good and not worry about a damn thing. 

Otis and the other ranch hands had just finished herding the cattle into the barns for the night while Miles had opted to stable the horses. The other hands were busy in their bunkhouse, most likely drinking or throwing meat on the grill or engaging in some lewd and obscene act that Otis would probably chew them out for later. 

You trailed your way down the beaten little path from the cottage to the barn, the skies having darkened with only a few gradient shades of pink, orange and deep blue with the trees silhouetted against them. Come the fall, the trees would lose their leaves, becoming nothing more than bare, fingerlike projections while the pines remained, towering into the skies with their pointed little peaks. 

The doors were still opened, the dim lights shining in the dark while the horses settled in for the night in their stalls. You watched Miles as he stacked the bales of hay, one on top of the other while the very obviously pregnant barn cat and her mate curled around his ankles. “Hey, you two, out,” Miles said, shooing them away to their little sleeping spot. “Go chase some mice or something.” 

You chuckled a little bit knowing that the male and female cats were sure to do just that. Somewhere in the barn a little portable radio played a haunting Johnny Cash piece while Miles continued to stack the hay. 

He let out a pained groan, hunching over a little before you wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed his shoulders. “You’re working too hard,” you chuckled with a little smirk.

“And you’ve been hiding all day, haven’t you Mrs. Miller?” Miles remarked, unable to control the grin that threatened to break out on his face. 

“Hardly,” you responded. “If anything I’ve been taking care of the house.” 

You were readily turned on by the little purr in Miles’s throat, feeling it running from your chest and down into your legs. He turned to face you, his strong arms hoisting you onto the stack of haybales so that your legs could wrap around his waist. You weakened as his hands gripped your sides, his long fingers playing with the laces on your summer dress. You kissed him deeply, desperate and needy for him as the kissing became more heated and more passionate. 

Miles slipped his tongue past your lips and into your mouth, wanting nothing more than to get a taste of you. You let out a pouty little whine when he suddenly pulled away from you, gently cupping your face in his hands. 

“Hayloft,” he murmured. “Now.” 

You were taken aback by how low his voice was, almost like a thunderstorm settling in. Quietly you went up to the hayloft, climbing up the ladder while Miles stuck his black cowboy hat on his head and grabbed a rope from the hook on a stall door. He came up to the hay filled area behind you before you kicked off your boots and laid down in the hay.

“No,” Miles told you. “Hands above your head.” 

“Are you sure?” 

Miles nodded. “Are you ok with it?” 

You nodded a little timidly. 

Tentatively and gently, Miles lay on top of you, raising your arms so they were above your head, very gently tying them with the rope. “Not too tight is it?”

“No, you answered, shaking your head. 

Miles kissed you again, drawing a few moans from your mouth as he moved his way up to kiss your bound wrists. “You’re so gorgeous.....” he mumbled. “.....all tied up for me....my pretty little wife.” 

You shifted your hips up against his, desperate for a little bit of friction against the thin panties that covered your aching pussy. “Miles,” you moaned. “I want you so bad.....please....let me....” 

“Let you what?” he asked, trailing kisses down to your neck.

“Let me fuck you.” 

“In a minute sweetheart, in a minute,” he gently reminded you. 

Down he trailed, taking careful pains to nip a little at your breasts, unable to get enough of the softness. He kissed the inside of your sensitive thighs, your nerves begging for more until Miles was shoulder deep under your dress. You felt his face all over both sides of your hips, moving from one end to the other until he wriggled out and came back up with your panties in his teeth. 

He spat them out into his hand, tossing them aside, only to bury his face in your pussy. The moans that fell from your mouth were obscene, more obscene than those in the porn flick that one of the hands had been caught watching. 

“And to think,” Miles mumbled again. “You kept this gorgeous pussy from me all day.” 

You could hardly speak as his tongue hit the bundle of nerves between your legs perfectly. You wanted nothing more than to ride his face, but you couldn’t. You were too caught up in the throes of your own ecstasy that you wanted him to just keep going. 

“Miles.....” you moaned. “Miles I’m....I’m gonna....” 

“Ah-ah! Don’t even think about it,” Miles chuckled. “Not until I come in.” 

Off came his shirt and then his dark washed jeans before Miles stripped off his boxers. He lay on top of you once again, pressing his warm body against yours before his hands undid your dress. He slid it right off into the hay, sitting you right up and slowly easing you onto his throbbing, aching cock. 

“That’s it sweetheart,” he murmured, slowly guiding your hips. “Slowly.....slowly....there’s a good girl. Oh sweetheart....you’re so wet....you’re so wet for me.” 

You smiled a little as you held Miles’s hands underneath yours, pressing them against your hips. You rocked a little bit on his cock, desperate to feel Miles inside you, making him moan just as you had done before. 

“Ride me sweetheart,” Miles told you. “Ride me the way you ride one of the horses.”

You smiled at him as you placed his black cowboy hat on your head, your hips rising and falling onto his cock 

He didn’t once take his hands off of you as his hands trailed to your stomach, tracing little circles around your navel. 

“You want me to make you a momma?” he purred. “Want me to fill that gorgeous little tummy with my baby? Get your breasts all full of milk?” 

“Yes, yes, daddy, yes please,” you pleaded, trying to keep quiet. 

You threw your bound wrists around the back of his neck and kept kissing him deeply as you moved up and down on his cock, riding him as though you were once again in the saddle the ache between the both of you becoming almost unbearable. You felt something warm and liquid suddenly bursting between your legs, yours and Miles’s little pants and moans finally quieting down as you caught your breath. 

You did so good, baby,” Miles cooed as he sleepily kissed you. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself Miles,” you laughed a little. “I could go all night.” 

And that was a challenge Miles was willing to accept. 

[sketching-shark]

Ngl sometimes i feel bad abt disliking LMK so much because some of my friends like it alot and one of them hyperfixates on it. But then i remember just how badly it fucked up in depicting Sun Wukong's character that im pretty sure even villainous portrayals of him in media have given him more dignity, how Six ears basically got woobified and Karma Houdinied despite the show itself showing him as a pretty fucked up villain in S1, how much the Eng Dub butchered the hell out of the Bull Demon Family's dynamic and that this show basically removed one of the core aspects of the story (Buddhism) and then i suddenly dont feel that bad anymore.

Plus its not like they know my actual opinions abt it. As long as they dont ask i think im good lol

Monkie Kid spoilers & complaining & likely exaggerating things below so avert thine eyes if you don't want to see all that

gterewfs not to add even more to the apparently intolerable trend of bringing up Xiyouji when talking about Monkie Kid but it is kind of funny how I've now seen multiple people say a lot of their dislike of the lego show comes from knowing how Sun Wukong can be depicted when he's not being written as a cringefail hermit (X_X). And as is @seasonalsummers if pressed you can probably just tell your friends that Monkie Kid just isn't your thing & leave it at that. Because yeah I've spoken before how it's not fair to expect people to make their way through the ~1,400 pages of the best English translation of the og classic in developing their sense of the journey and Sun Wukong's whole deal, and the vast diversity of depictions of the Monkey King in retellings does seem to stand testament to how much this monkey can be changed to suit the needs of a story. And as is the existence of Zaju Xiyou Ji does demonstrate how even in China this monkey's had bouts of being depicted as little more than a selfish clown, so maybe this is just the west's version of that lol.

THAT SAID, aaaaaAAAAAAA yeah genuinely is baffling and frustrating watching many people cheer and clap for what feels like the constant traumatization of Qi Xiaotian and the constant use of Sun Wukong as Monkie Kid's punching bag. Like heavens to betsy Flying Bark has so relentlessly focused on how thoroughly SWK screws up everything in both the past and the present and apparently, on his own admission, spent the entirely of his immortality doing little except making one mistake after another (i.e. routinely fucking up his life and the lives of everyone around him) that one really is left wondering why any of the show's cast would want to be even within 50 miles distance of this monkey, which is definitely something made all the more awesome by the sense that maybe the main reason is because the obvious villains of every season are explicitly trying to take over/ blow up the entire world rather than blundering their way into that position :(. And that's a dynamic definitely made even MORE awesome by everyone's favorite poor little meow meow never did anything wrong ever the Six-Eared Macaque spending the majority of his screen time both beating the tar out of Qi Xiaotian and telling anyone who will listen what a dumb bitch Sun Wukong is before the show then bends over backwards to validate his claims all while making sure he's never even slightly called out for the shit he pulls, with the clear favoritism made all the more clearer by such facts as Sun Wukong got screamed at by Long Xiaojiao in an extensive and dramatic scene for putting basically the monkie gang and the entirety of reality in danger through his doofus decisions and yet even though she literally watched the shadow simian beat Qi Xiaotian into unconsciousness and literally had her life seriously threatened by this same monkey until Tang Shifu started oh yeah the Fire of Samadhi ritual she's apparently perfectly fine with working with Mr. Six not long after. Add on top of that the way it now feels like SWK's not even really allowed to be friends with anyone except Macaque or even to interact with any of his other former besties in any meaningful way, and well this is really making for a not fun situation that keeps steering the plot away from some of the most interesting fun and heartfelt things that Monkie Kid could have done. And then on top of that Flying Bark has now shown themselves to have this habit of spending the majority of each season focusing on what a screw-up SWK is before waiting until the last possible episode before characters who up to that point couldn't have made their hatred for the Monkey King and Qi Xiaotian by extension more clear start pulling out abrupt and honestly hand-wavey reasons for why they suddenly like him. IDK! I like a good redemption arc but that's not something you can speedrun and then pretend like it's even remotely satisfying! And definitely doesn't do SWK any favors with the way he just stands there maybe looking kind of sad while someone yells at him for sucking entire before he runs off to suck at everything again and is barely ever allowed to be explicitly and messily upset about that or about what a colossal failure his life is or idk mayhaps what happened to the og pilgrims that apparently resulted in their premature deaths!! For as much as people keep saying they want characters to redeem themselves through living and working to be better and be upset and fucked up about their pasts well it sure might be nice in this situation if we actually got to spend some time on that instead of just relentlessly piling one catastrophic blunder on top of the other! tsetawraer sorry for the rant but yeah still pretty shocked on how much a silly lego show that started off as having fun adventures with the Monkey King would turn into the grimdark adventures of Young Man Traumatized, Asshole Goku, and the Stalker Shadow (X_X)