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swordsandholly · 3 months

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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 5: Night Out

You find yourself squeezed into the center of a round corner booth, Johnny to your left and Kyle to your right with John beside him. The bar is relatively quiet, even for a Saturday night. It is early, though. Plenty of time left in the night for more people to file in. Apparently they go out drinking every third week of the month, a day set aside for them to be together and celebrate another month of success. It’s sweet that they invited you, if not a little nerve wracking - you’re not exactly sure how much they plan on drinking and you’ve been known to be rather… sloppy after one too many.

You nervously adjust your top while Johnny yaps about the equipment sales person with the incredible ass. It’s hard not to squirm being packed in between them, hyper aware of the width of your hips and the size of your arms as they squish against far more toned, muscular limbs. A mean itch in the back of your mind lectures you about taking up too much space - about inconveniencing the people around you. About the optics of the pitiable fat girl tolerated by the handsome men around her.

An elbow to your arm finally knocks you out of your daze. “Och! There he is!”

You blink, following Johnny’s gaze to the man climbing into the booth beside him. It takes your brain a moment to catch up, processing the person in front of you. Your eyes turn to saucers as you realize it’s Simon - signature tattoos, piercings and all - just without his usual surgical mask. It shouldn’t make that much a difference, he still has that low brow and big dark eyes that slide over to you and make your stomach flip…but now you get the addition of his crooked nose, broken more than once and not set right, a small cleft scar leading down to a part of pretty, pink lips that quirk up in the corners when he catches you staring. A few scars scattered across his sharp jaw you hadn’t noticed before and a light layer of blonde stubble around each engraving on his face.

“You’re pretty!?” You gasp, words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them. You bury your face in your hands while the others (Johnny) burst out in a fit of laughter. Simon’s shoulders shake in that signature, barely audible chuckle as he settles into the booth. Suddenly you feel a little less self conscious about the amount of space you take up in comparison.

John orders a round for everyone. Some light mixers to sip while you talk. You stick to listening, mostly, while the boys talk shop. You pick up a few personal tidbits here and there - specifically about Simon’s apparent sweet tooth as Johnny teases him about going through an entire package of licorice in one sitting. You file that away for later. Apparently John got his start after he enlisted in the military and got several very shitty tattoos during the first couple of years. Dropped out to get an apprenticeship, figuring he could do better. Kyle rolls his eyes, as if he’d heard the tale a few too many times.

“Where ye thinkin’ of lettin’ Kyle ink ye?” Johnny leans in close, breaking out of the group conversation.

You tilit your head. “Haven’t really thought about it. Wherever he’s comfortable, I guess.”

“Givin’ him free reign? Tha’s dangerous, bonnie. Might put it somewhere scandalous.”

“Wouldn’t be the first.” You blurt, regretting it immediately when you see that impish sparkle in his eye.

Johnny dips closer to you, shoulder pressing against yours. “Oh? Thought ye were a good girl, hen.”

“I’ve got a couple you haven’t, and will never get close enough to see, MacTavish.” You laugh.

“Is tha’ a challenge?” He grins, hand just barely ghosting over your thigh.

You shrug, face hot. ”Even if it was, you’d lose.”

There’s probably something deeply wrong with flirting with your coworkers while your boss sits a foot away, but your skin is too warm and your drink tastes to good for you to focus on that fleeing thought for long.

“From the gentleman at the bar.” A woman appears in front of your table, sliding a glass of pink cocktail toward you.

You stare at it before glancing up to meet a pair of dark eyes. He’s handsome, smiles and nods before going back to his own drink. Something cold runs down your spine, the bar warping for only a second. Your lip catches between your teeth before you push it away.

“That’s bold.” John scoffs, a twitch in his brow.

“Not gonnae take a free drink, bon?” Johnny teases, batting at your arm. “He’s no’ half bad lookin’. I’d take a bite.”

“I don’t take drinks from strange men.” You snap, a little harsher than you meant as you push the glass even further. “You can have it if you want.”

There’s a beat where you keep your eyes square on the table, waiting for an insistence that you take it, that you talk to him, that you just do what he wants because he seems nice enough. That you’ve ruined the mood by being sensitive, like you always do. Instead, Johnny grabs the glass and downs whatever fruity cocktail was inside.

“Alright, if I pass out ye have t’ carry me now.” He laughs, the conversation returning to the same pace as before. You just look up at him for a moment - his eyes bright and unwavering.

The more you’re with them, the more guilt you feel for doubting them in moments like this - but, equally, the more unreal they seem. Too perfect of men for you to have stumbled across. Too good for something as damaged as you. There’s a pang of loneliness at the thought.

You’re one again pulled from your thoughts - well, redirected, more like - when John’s arm comes to rest around the back of the booth behind Kyle, fingers brushing against your shoulder ever so slightly. You’d been noticing it more recently - John’s tendency to hover. He doesn’t cling like Johnny but he stays just a hair away. Fingers ghost over your arms and a hand hovers over your back. Sometimes he holds the back of your seat, leaning over you while looking at the appointment book, that wafting scent of leather and petrichor enveloping you.

He doesn’t look at you, talking across the table to Simon about some business thing. At least you think, you really hadn’t been listening. Maybe you should have.

“We should go check out that new place up the street.” Kyle announces, scrolling through his phone. “They’ve got great room for dancin’, apparently.”

“Is dancin’ the mood for the night?” Simon sighs, tilting his head forward. Even without the mask his expression remains placid. Difficult to read.

“Aye!” Johnny wraps an arm firmly around your shoulders. “We’ve got t’ take our little lass out on the town!”

You scoff, cheeks warming at the idea that you’re theirs. Their lass - their girl. Fuck that last drink really good to you, huh?

Johnny walks with an arm sling around Kyle’s waist ahead of you, John laughing and shaking his head at them. Simon hangs back a bit as you walk, taking small, slow steps to stay beside you with his hands in his pockets. The same as when he walks you home every night you close together. You silently revel in the safety of it - of having this massive man in your shadow to block out everything else. You risk glancing up at his face - so new to you despite knowing each other for weeks. His skin glows in the passing street lights.

So not fair that he’s been hiding lips that kissable.

That’s totally the drinks talking.

“Y’alright?” He murmurs, glancing down at you.

You jump a bit, not realizing you’d been staring, eyes wide and hazy. Since when we’re you such a lightweight? “Yeah.”

“Still bothered about that guy?”

You blink. In all honesty, you’d completely forgotten him. Too busy enjoying your time with your boys. Your boys. Your boys. Their girl. That feels really good.

“No.” You shake your head and grin. “Sorry for being weird about it.”

“Y’weren’t.” Simon shakes his head solemnly, lapsing into a comfortable silence as you walk. It’s made up for by Johnny’s forceful cover of Pink Pony Club.

The place is packed when you get there, Simon having to use his bulky form to push through and secure you all a standing table. Not that you really need it, it’s mostly so the four of you can do a few shots - as per Johnny and Kyle’s insistence. Yours too, but it’s more fun to use them as an excuse to down two green tea shots back to back. You’ve never been good at saying no anyway.

“C’mon, luv.” Kyle herds you toward the dance floor and you follow, not unaware of Johnny right at your back. Your head buzzes, the world feeling loose and slow and comfortable around you. That wall you might otherwise have up long gone as you’re safely pinned between two of your favorite boys.

Kyle’s hands trail down your sides to knead at your hips, guiding them to move in tandem with his. Johnny presses closer to your front, hooking your arms up around his neck. If you were any more sober, you might have thought twice about the way you grind back against Kyle and press your chest into Johnny - your coworkers - but as it stands you couldn’t care less. Your body buzzes with a comfortable warmth, the music seems to course through your veins. It’s so easy to let them guide you, to melt into them, to tilt your head back onto Kyle’s chest and grin up at Johnny’s big blue eyes.

It’s the loosest you’ve felt in a long, long time

Johnny says something you can’t hear, his head ducking and lips grazing the shell of your ear. A touch starved part of you wants to whine, to throw yourself into him and burrow into his chest. Bury yourself right between his ribs - surely it’s warm in there. The very sun itself housed where his heart should be.

Maybe you’re reaching the water-only time of the night.

You tilt your head, half-lidded eyes making contact with Simon’s. They’re boring into you, seemingly memorizing the way you three move against each other. Each step and sway stored away for future reference. Surely it’s in your imagination.

Eventually, you shuffle around - trading yourself for Kyle as John’s big hands come to rest respectfully on your waist. The music slows a bit, at least, making it easier to dance with your boss without feeling like you’re crossing a boundary. Not that you would mind crossing that boundary. You’d leap over it if you could - those pretty blue eyes smiling down at you in the multicolor bar light. Leather and petrichor fill your nose. There’s a spice to it that isn’t usually there. Your drunkenness sets your fingers alight as they trace up his strong arms to rest on his shoulders.

“Glad y’came tonight, dove.” John says, barely having to shout over the music. His voice just has that commanding timber to it that makes itself heard no matter the circumstance.

You give him a crooked grin. “Me too.”

John just hums, swaying you carefully. People don’t do this, a small part of you thinks. Don’t dance with their bosses. You look down to where you’re pressed together. It feels good, though. You wonder if you’re more to him than an employee - if he considers you a friend despite your inequalities of age and rank.

“Is it silly to say that I’m really happy?” You mutter, not expecting John to hear over the music.

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, dipping lower so you can hear him more clearly. “I’m very grateful that we get to have you.”

Somehow your face gets hotter and in an attempt to calm down you glance over his shoulder to where Simon still stands, leaned against the wall with a glass in hand. His eyes rake over the crowd, sometimes resting on Johnny and Kyle, sometimes you and John, sometimes they seem to just look off into the distance. A woman walks up to him. She’s pretty. Tall with dark hair. You can’t see her face - can’t tell what she says. A slimy, nosy little part of you doesn't like it, despite having no right to an opinion. Simon’s expression remains flat as he responds and she stomps away.

You turn back to John. “Does Simon not dance?”

John chuckles. “Rarely.”

You pout. “I hate that he’s all alone.”

“He’s fine, love. Promise.”

“I’m gonna ask him.”

“Good luck.” John laughs, letting you push your way out of the crowd as the current song comes to an end.

“Si!” You call loudly over the music, movements sloppy.

“Hm?” He cocks a brow.

You lock your hands around his wrist like a child trying to pull their parent toward some bright thing that caught their eye. He doesn’t pull away like a more sober you might expect. “Come dance with me!”

“I don’t dance.” He scoffs.

“Please?” You beg, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. Not nearly as effective as Johnny’s but they’ll have to do.

“No.” Even in your drunken state you notice the corner of his mouth quirk up before he forces it back down.

“You can’t stand over here all night!”

“Watch me.” Simon huffs.

You pout and let your fingers drift over his forearm, all muscle and so very vascular. His skin is warm under your hands, the ridges of scars dancing across the pads of your fingers - invisible to the eye under his tattoos.

“Well, then, I’ll just have to do what you like to do!” You say with a discerning nod, clambering up onto the stool at the table beside him.

He frowns. “Don’t let me take you away-“

“I don’t wanna leave you alone!” You continue to pout, the cotton in your head only making things fuzzier outside of your new single minded goal: Hang Out with Simon.

He looks you over for a moment, something passing through those dark eyes of his. They’re so mysterious - so deep. Like the Mariana Trench. That’s the really big one, right?

Simon sighs and downs the last of whatever golden drink was in his glass, setting it on the table beside you. “Fine. I’ll give you one song.”

You’re practically preening as you pull him into the crowd, hand firmly around his thick wrist. Part of you briefly acknowledges a few jabs from Johnny and Kyle as you pass them on their way toward the bar.

A squeak escapes you as Simon suddenly turns you around, pulling you close and leading you to the beat. He’s good. Weirdly good. You feel a bit like a floundering fish all of a sudden. It definitely doesn’t help that you’re a lot more drunk than you felt five minutes ago. He smells like spice, too.

“So much for can’t dance!” You laugh.

“I said I don’t dance, bird. Nothin’ about can’t.” An arm loops around your waist, suddenly twisting to dip you low - holding your weight so easily. You fall into a giggling fit, face hot as you playfully push at his chest.

As the night goes on, things get fuzzier. Blurred. There’s one last shot with Johnny and Kyle and all you know is an overwhelming sense of joy.

A/N: Don’t love love this part but it’s cute and this is supposed to be my easy to write fic so I’m not stressing about it. Suuuuper excited for the next couple parts tho🤭

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yenqa · 6 months

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firsts

synopsis — sakusa and you have never had a conversation, and honestly you’re terrified of the man. but one conversation turns out to be many more of your firsts with sakusa.

warnings — reader is scared of men LMFAO, not really any

pairing — sakusa x implied fem!reader

wordcount — 710

a/n — happy birthday to himm! also my first hq post in a while OOPS also not proofread sorry!

You’ve never really talked to Sakusa.

You had been the manager of the volleyball team since your first year–and you had known him since then, but for some reason, you haven’t talked to him unless it’s volleyball related.

In fact–you don’t think you’ve ever had a conversation with him. But there's a first for everything, right?

Itachiyama has made it to nationals (not like it’s a surprise), and everyone has just arrived. The room continues to fill with people you don’t know, so you decide it’s best to stick with your team so you don’t get lost.

Well apparently that was a horrible idea to everyone else. Because you’ve lost everyone but Sakusa.

And you’re terrified. Surrounded in a room full of men you don’t know sounded like your worst nightmare, and you were living it currently.

Frantically scanning the room for anyone that’s not Sakusa, you somehow can’t spot any of the familiar bright yellow and green jackets your team is wearing.

Everyone knows that Sakusa doesn’t like to be bothered. But when you make eye contact with him, you change your expression to a way where he understands you’re pleading for help.

And he nods once.

Your mouth breaks out into a smile, and you shimmy your way to the crowd. Letting out a sigh of relief–you lean on the wall for support, muttering a small thank you to Sakusa.

You don’t expect him to say anything back, but you can hear his muffled voice say, “You okay?”

Tilting your head slightly up to make eye contact with him, you smile as you say, “Yeah–I’m fine. Are you nervous?”

You’re not sure why you ask the question, he probably doesn’t want to be bothered. I mean–you were still kind of shocked that he let you even be near him.

“Not really. Are you?”

You’re even more shocked when he continues the conversation. You’d expect he’d be the most rude person if he didn’t want to talk. “I-uhm I am a little bit. But we’re exempt from playing today right?”

Yeah–this definitely is the first and last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

He nods.

Then it’s silent.

Surprisingly, the silence isn't the most awkward thing you’ve experienced. It feels as if you’re just two people co-existing.

You watch as everyone excitedly hugs each other or glares at their next opponent. One person even tries to rile up the other, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

From the corner of your eye you can tell he’s curious, but he hasn’t said anything yet. This time, you take initiative to point at the players, also describing the jacket colors.

And you swear you can hear him laugh.

Not a full–hearty laugh obviously, but a small chuckle. A quiet one that you don’t even notice. But it’s definitely the first time you’ve heard him do anything resembling a laugh.

“You laughed.” You blurt out, before you even realize.

He furrows his brows, “I did.”

Your eyes widen, “Sorry–oh my gosh, it’s just the first time I’ve heard your laugh before, Sakusa-san. I swear I didn’t mean it like that–you just have a nice laugh–”

And now he’s actually laughing–like not even hard to hear.

He’s laughing, he’s hunched over, shaking and clutching his stomach. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more mortified in your life.

“It wasn’t that funny was it?” You ask, a frown on your face.

Sakusa catches his breath, “Funnier than any of the jokes Komori tries to make.”

“There wasn’t even a joke! And I happen to like the jokes he makes!”

“Only if you’re sick in the head.”

You scoff at his remark, “Wow, Sakusa-san, you’re very hard to please.”

“Kiyoomi.”

“Another complaint?” You tease, trying to play dumb at what he’s trying to imply.

“Call me Kiyoomi.”

You can feel heat rush to your cheeks, you tuck your hair back behind your ear and mutter, “Okay, Kiyoomi.”

And even though he’s wearing a white mask, you swear you can see his eyes crinkle and you can assume the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly.

You’ve had many firsts with Sakusa today. This is the first time you’ve seen him smile–just maybe next time he’ll do it while his face is fully shown.

yenqa © please do not copy, steal or translate.

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bigfatbimbo · 20 days

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Silly request but imagine helping Bill "groom" his triangle self. Gently wipe him with a cloth. Carefully dip it in the little space between the bricks, can't leave that zone unclean! Alternatively, a classic soapy bubble bath. Silly straws included, what the hell, he's probably drinking the bath water and listing the chemical ingredients back at you while you gently rub him clean. Fun times

The Bug Collector

1.1k words,, Bill Cipher x reader

a/n — Procrastination killed my soul during this, I think it turned out okay, though! Sorry for typos, your girl is tired.

warnings — SFW, post!weirdmaggedon, as ‘fluffy’ as you can get with Bill cipher, he is his own warning, kinda toxic relationships, fluff and bill being pathetic

summary — Reader assists a recently fallen Bill Cipher in self care, despite his general all-mighty asshole-ness.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, a water-tight barrier most commonly known for muscle attachments, and its use to shelter and protect the insects gushy insides from its harsh environment.

The exoskeleton of a triangle was for mostly for aesthetics, as the underneath was far more horrifying than anything in the harsh environment around it. Or so the triangle claims.

You dipped a soapy sponge into the bucket in front of you, as bill propped his feet up on the bathtub.

“You conquer worlds and destroy planets, but yeah, why not draw the line at cleaning yourself.”

“Please, what better way to make use out of my new human pet— partner, than this?” He corrected loudly and purposefully. Then looking to the side, he mumbled, “And besides, kid, you have no idea how hard it is to clean between the bricks. Euck— So many blind spots.”

The first part was a throwaway reminder that he had far more power than you in this dynamic, something you’d picked up on Bill casually doing in his time with you.

Being roommates with a butt-hurt demon, given the ending of weirdmaggedon, allowed you the privilege of being more cautious than previous humans were with Bill. For example, you’ve taken to keeping track of his repeated habits and patterns.

On of which, just so happened to be reminding you how small you were compared to him.

You jabbed the sponge in-between on of the bricks, “Ow!” He narrowed his eye at you, “Watch it, pal. I’m starting to think you’ve never cleaned a triangle before.”

“I’d hate to give that impression.” You softened your hold on him, “Delicate work, I always say.”

And it was delicate work. After his defeat, he’d been roughed up a surprising bit, powers even weakened.

Weakened.

“Not too delicate,” he shot you glance. Guess he’d heard that thought process.

Although, most days he’d seemed to be in a thought process of his own. Weird.

You cleared your throat, “How often does this even need to be done?”

He blinked, “Well, let’s see. Once every—“ he waved his hand around “—few hundred years. Very high maintenance, do not recommend it.”

High maintenance, yeah. At this point, Bill had taken to talking about some other topic, you hadn’t been really listening, something about intergalactic food joints.

Every once and a while he’d bring up something that happened with one of his ‘henchmaniacs’ before getting slightly irritated at the lack of presence in his life now, and changing the subject.

Bill was interesting to study, you couldn’t lie. His eyelashes curled away from each other, like the mangled legs of a recently dead spider. His hands were very present when he talked, like most people of business. His body flicked side to side slightly at certain moments.

You became more gentle naturally, taking care of every crevice, and for some reason Bill becomes gradually quieter.

“Something wrong?” You asked, not stopping.

Bill blinked, “Eh, been a minute since i’ve had a human servant. Maybe, I was thinking of other things you can help with!”

You sigh, “Yeah, because i’m your servant. As if.” In your mind, your thinking do the fact he was your roommate, in your house, eating your food.

“Hey, don’t get all butt-hurt. You’re all ants to me, buddy, nothing to be ashamed of!” His eye flicked back and forth between you and the room.

Then you stop scrubbing, “Bill, I might as well be your landlord.” You know he can read your thoughts, so you make a point to justify yourself. Already weakened from his failed apocalypse, anything other than vague respect for you would land him homeless. Most likely, his response to this would be killing you, but there’s only so much he can do afterwards.

He’d have a place to stay, but with no electricity or heating, and in his damaged physical form he actively does need those things. And trying to get a new human would be a hassle, and unlike you, no guarantee they’d let him stay there without calling the authorities.

“Yeesh,” Bill remarks, “Buzzkill… You are still a bug compared to me, though—“

You drop the sponge in the bucket, “I think you’re done.”

He looks taken aback when you pull away, “What? Come on, over the bug comment? Jeez, buddy—“

“No I mean you’re actually done,” you gesture to his body, now shining and slick with soap suds. “I got everything, there’s nothing else to do.”

You go to turn around before you feel a small hand grabbing for the back of your shirt.

“Wait, wait!” He breathes, eye farting from side to side, “… You have to dry me off first.”

He looked slightly panicked, like if you stopped taking care of him now, you’d leave and never come back. Your thought process earlier couldn’t have helped.

The way he scurried and gasped for you was reminiscent of panicked earwig and a rock is lifted up. The comparison should have grossed you out, but it kinda just made you feel a little bad.

If he was paying attention to your thoughts, he didn’t show it. This would have usually given you the impression he’d wanted you to be thinking the way you were, but he seemed a little wrapped up in his own head.

“Come on, kid. Don’t tell me you’re gonna kick me out because I asked you to dry me off. One last thing and then you don’t even have to talk to me the rest of the night! Sounds like a good deal, right?”

His slightly desperate looking sales pitch was met with a sigh, you picked up a dry towel and began to pat the soap suds off of him. His body slowly breathed in, making it look like he was sighing, but no noise came out.

You wondered then if he was actually touch-starved, but cut your thoughts there because this time he had nothing better to do then pay attention to what you were thinking.

“Ouch, i’m not that desperate, pal.” But he was.

His exoskeleton was dry, but you didn’t stop patting him down. His eyelid shut slowly, and the spider-legs on them curled into each other once more.

The exoskeleton of a bug was practical, but one of a triangle seemed to simply be for aesthetics.

However, on some rare occasions, it possesses the same desire for love as human bodies. Only, when very desperate, of course.

#bill cipher x reader #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #bill cipher x you #bill cipher fluff #fluff x reader #bill cipher #x reader #gravity falls imagines #bill cipher imagines #inbox open

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lexyeevee · 1 year

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it's wild to see myhouse having escaped the orbit of Doom People, because so much of it specifically riffs on doom in a way that is laser-targeted at Doom People, to the point that i just wouldn't have expected it to be nearly as interesting if you don't pick up on that stuff

right from the outset, "my house" is even a recognizable genre, because doom was among the first approachable platforms for creating a 3D space, and if you give random people the ability to create a 3D space then many of them will just try to recreate their own house. (i want to say jp lebreton even made an effort to play through every house map on the idgames archive at one point, though hell if i can find it now.) there was in fact already a "myhouse.wad", from 1995!

frankly it's incredible that someone (or someones) put so much effort into this map and then had the gall to simply post it on doomworld as "myhouse.wad", because that is a thread title that guarantees the fewest possible people will bother to look. there are posts in the thread where people outright admit that they only checked because they were surprised how many replies a "my house" wad got.

so anyway, okay, the "classic" doom wad experience is that you download a wad, it contains exactly 1 map, and it has zero custom textures or music or other frills. most wads from the 90s are like this; if you're lucky you might get a bad midi rendition of a metallica song. nowadays there are texture artists and musicians and everything collaborating on full map packs, but "just a map" is still kind of the default mapping experience and is recognizable to anyone who's been around doom for sufficiently long.

and myhouse riffs on absolutely every aspect of this:

• the music is the MAP01 music, Running From Evil, which is just the music you get if you supply your own map in the MAP01 slot and do nothing else. so a ton of 90s maps had this same track as their background music, so everyone has heard it a zillion times. it is ingrained into so many people's skulls. subtly fucking with it is a great way to fuck with the player

• the house uses only stock doom 2 textures, or occasionally light modifications of them. again this is just what you get if you make a map and don't supply any other resources, so the stock textures are very familiar. only later, with sufficient poking around, does the map introduce new textures, which really help sell the impression of being swept away to Somewhere Else

• if you take the exit, you go to MAP02, Underhalls. this is the expected experience because doom wads replace what's already there — you're not really supplying a "new map pack" or anything, you're overwriting a map from the original doom 2 progression. (there are ways to fiddle with this now, but in vanilla doom 2, the level progression was hardcoded.) so the "ending" of a no-frills single-map wad is always, always to transition to Underhalls. the opening shot of Underhalls is practically like seeing the credits. so roping Underhalls into the experience is completely unexpected, because Underhalls is the sign that you've escaped back to regular doom

• the super shotgun is "hidden" in Underhalls, in probably the best-known super shotgun location in the whole game, because it's the first time you can get it

• incidentally Underhalls itself feels uncanny, because the player camera height is higher than usual to make the house's proportions feel sensible. (part of the trouble with exact recreations of real spaces in doom is that the camera is weirdly low.) i was actually convinced that myhouse included a modified Underhalls, but no, it's stock doom 2 Underhalls, it just feels off when you're slightly taller

but wait, there's more

• silent teleporters are a feature from boom, a very early doom derivative that added a number of helpful mapping features and is basically considered only half a step beyond vanilla. so shifting between two versions of a space without interruption isn't completely unexpected. it's only later that the portal use becomes more obvious

• although if you're especially canny, you should notice that the second version of the house shows both the upstairs and downstairs windows in full, which is impossible — doom cannot do room-over-room. (in fact this is accomplished with a semi-obscure zdoom feature called sector portals — essentially, the whole second floor and the space outside it are a separate area, and the "ceiling" of the yard becomes a view up through the "floor" of that second space.)

• swinging doors are a hexen feature (polyobjects) that gzdoom inherited. (heretic and hexen were modifications of the doom engine, and zdoom started out as a merge of all three codebases into something that could play all three games.) they might also be in other fancy engines (eternity?), but they are very distinctly not a doom thing. if you're deeply familiar with doom's limitations then they'll jump out at you immediately, but if you're looking at doom like it's any old 3D game then maybe not so much

• recreations of other humble real-world locales are also a somewhat common theme, and remind me in particular of Doom City, from way back in 1995

• a very common desire for players is to "uv-max" a map, i.e. reach the exit on ultra-violence with 100% kills and secrets. if you can't do this, the map is (reasonably) considered broken. it is comically impossible to do this in myhouse, and anyone with the skill to create the map would be acutely aware of this

• the extra weapon frames look to be borrowed from the well-known smooth doom, which adds extra frames for everything and is just pretty dang slick overall. so it's not merely "ho ho, got you, smoother weapons" but specific integration of another familiar project

• this might be reaching a bit, but mirrors are specifically a nightmare in zdoom's software renderer because they work by rendering all visible geometry as if it were physically present on the other side of the mirror — and if there be any actual geometry back there, it will also get rendered and you will have a big fucking mess. so a mirror in the middle of a room is a laughable idea. this is somewhat less of a concern now that the hardware renderer is basically the default, but it's still a spectre looming over the very concept of mirrors, so the way mirrors play out in myhouse is very funny to me

there's probably more, like, the way it intercepts noclip is a stroke of genius and not something i've ever seen done before. but i hope you get the idea

#doom #myhouse.wad

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enwoso · 4 months

Note

Hi can you write a Lucy bronze x reader. Reader is the shy one of the team and during teamnights and interviews reader is very reserved. With Lucy she isn’t as shy. Lucy helps reader slowly get out her shell (some fluff :))

JUST NOT ME — lucy bronze

*i truly apologise for the lack of posts in the past few days, i’ve had a hectic few days and i’ve been focused on studying so sorry if this sucks — posts will probably be a bit inconsistent over the next few weeks but i’ll be as active as i can<3*

navigation

"you excited?" beth asked as the car pulled into the entrance of st george's park, the familiar surroundings bringing a small smile to your face. this was your first call up to the england squad in almost a year, having been out with the dreaded ACL injury.

"i guess" you shrugged, beth shaking her head in amusement. you didn't really know how to explain it, of course you were excited, who wouldn't be happy playing for their country but you were almost nervous, what if you weren't up the standard of others in the group.

"always the women of few words!" beth joked, one you had heard many times as the arsenal girls loved to tease you about how quiet you were but that's just how you were cause not everyone was her.

they didn’t know that you needed a chance to warm up to people before you let them into your bubble, they didn’t know that even though because you don’t say a lot that you aren’t paying attention as you notice every persons small habits they have. cause not everyone was her.

you were a listener and not someone who could sit and chat someone's ears off for ever more than a day like the likes of beth mead and ella toone could do so effortlessly without even realising.

but maybe that's what lucy liked so much about you.

you and lucy had been together just nearing two years now, the two of you had known of each other for a while it wasn't until a night out in london with the lionesses that leah had dragged you to after you had said for days on end that you weren’t going, that you and lucy spoke to each other.

you sitting in the corner of the club, drink in hand as you watched millie and rachel on the karaoke a small smile on your face at their singing which was not the slightest in tune at all.

lucy spotting you sat alone slipping in the booth with you before asking you why you weren't doing karaoke like everyone else, you shrugging at the girls question before she asked you if you wanted to do it with her.

you face going red as you almost immediately shook your head, but lucy being lucy had her mission for the night and that was to get you to do karaoke, and to which she succeeded after sitting and having a few more drinks with you.

and from that night, the rest was history.

you rolled your eyes at beth's comment as she chuckled to herself getting out the cab first, getting her luggage as you followed close behind her, thanking the driver as you headed into the entrance of st george's park.

taking in the familiar surroundings, as you looked around noticing the few changes since the last time you were here.

"i'm not holding these doors open for the good of my own health, hurry up!" beth pointed out, her thick northern accent bouncing off the walls as she was stood in the doorway of the lift, pulling you out of your trace as you hurried to get into the lift. pressing the buttons on the side of the wall for the floor you needed.

you and beth getting out of the lift on the same floor, you noticing your girlfriend as she had her back turned the opposite way, a smile appearing on your face.

beth nudging you, "go on!" she whispered as you said a small bye to the blonde as she walked the opposite way.

"your here!" a voice cheered which you knew all too well, lucy stood at the end of the hallway in front of her room door as you stopped your suitcase at your own door.

you smiled seeing the girl, your smile getting bigger with every step she took closer to before engulfing you in a tight hug. your whole body relaxing in hers, the smell of her perfume that you had missed.

“of course i’m here?” you smiled confused at her reaction to seeing you stood in the hallway. “well the media was saying you were gonna withdraw because of an irritation in your knee” she admitted a small frown on her face at the mention of your knee, knowing how hard and the amount of hours you had put in just to get back to the level you were at just last year.

“baby, you do know i would tell you before i even told sarina if i was going to withdraw don’t you?” you asked her, your hands finding their way up the back of her training top, your girlfriend having been here since early as she’d had an early flight to catch this morning.

“yeah”

"anyways, i've missed you" you mumbled into her neck, nestling your head as her hands fell to your lower back you feeling her smile against your forehead as she kissed it.

"i've missed you too love" she smiled as you looked up with a lovesick smile on your face. lucy pressing small kisses to your cheeks, nose and chin before finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips — which you would be dammed to say that you hadn't missed.

it was hard at times being away from your girlfriend for weeks on end as she played in barcelona and you were playing in north london at arsenal. having to schedule weeks in advance of when you would next be able to see each other.

but it made moments like these all the more worth it.

when you would finally be reunited and be in her arms again. sometime you think the distance made the two of you closer in a weird way as you felt as though you cherished you time together more.

"you coming down to lunch?" your girlfriend asked as she pressed your foreheads together, the smile never leaving either of your faces. you nodded, "yeah, let me just put my bag in and chance my shoes"

lucy hummed as she let you go from the hug, grabbing your suitcase for you as you rummaged around your pocket for your room key, the green light flashing as you pushed the handle down.

the door shutting with a click as you opened your suitcase finding your sliders to slip on, “baby, you got another pair!” lucy whisper yelled, pointing to your pink crocs that you were pulling out of your suitcase as she sat at the end of the bed watching you.

“yeah?”

“so what? that makes it seven pairs you’ve got now!” lucy said exaggerating the amount, as you huffed rolling your eyes as if she didn’t have trainers lined up on her bedroom floor.

“three actually” you sassed standing up and checking your hair in the mirror as lucy pulled a face at you, you doing one back to her.

“now quit your complaining, i want food!” you smiled sweetly at your girlfriend grabbing her hand and pulling her up from the bed as she pecked your lips quickly before you left your room not before checking that you had your phone and key card to actually get back into your room.

walking down hand in hand with lucy to where food was being served, as you filled each other in on the journey here. lucy’s sounding a lot more exciting then your two hour car journey consisting of views of trees and beth chatting your ears off about anything and every.

saying a small hello to others that you hadn’t seen since arriving before grabbing something to eat and sitting on a table just the two of you.

"on sunday, i went for breakfast with my mum and you know all she spoke about was you!" you complained as lucy had a smirk on her face as she put another forkful of food into her mouth, nodding alone to what you were saying.

"that's because i'm her favourite" lucy laughed as you rolled your eyes. “clearly, it’s so annoying-“ you began before being cut off by two blondes joining you at the table.

"how do you do that?" leah asked, directing her question more at lucy than you, as she sat down beth following behind the captain. as the two sat down at the table you and lucy were sat at.

"do what?" lucy asked, confusion taking over her face as she looked to you who shrugged putting another forkful of food in your mouth.

"get y/n to have a conversation!" leah pointed to you as you felt your cheeks go a little red as a small smile appeared on your face, as lucy looked back to the blonde and the two others still not really understanding what leah was trying to get at.

"we always have a conversation?" lucy shrugged as if it was nothing, cause to her it was. you had never really spoken to lucy until she had brought you out your shell. lucy knew you were more reserved when it came to talking to others, you would speak but it would be very few words.

but she wouldn’t change it for the word cause even if you didn’t say anything back she knew you were always listening and taking in everything she was saying.

beth and leah began to recount all the the times they had talked to you and you only ever gave them a one word answer, the two pleading with lucy to tell them her ways.

"really? y/n over here is a little chatterbox!" lucy smiled over to you as you awkwardly smiled at the two not really knowing what to say.

"she's not at shy as she likes to let everyone think she is!" she bumped your shoulder, as you rolled your eyes the sound of your fork tinkering against the plate in front as beth and leah’s mouth hang wide open in shock.

"no i refuse to believe it, how!"

"your just not me" lucy joked, the four of you beginning to laugh as you nodded your head in agreement, "i mean your not entirely wrong"

liked by lj10 and 736,250 others

lucybronze no one compares ☺️

comments -

youruser awh how cute

-> lucybronze no i meant no one compares to me?

-> youruser your ego is sickening at times.

#lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #woso community #woso #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso x reader #arsenal women #awfc #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #barca women #visca barca #lionesses #england wnt #england women #england #enwoso

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

Modern!Dark!Aemond - Divorce AU - Oneshot

Til Death Do Us Part

SUMMARY: You and Aemond had been married for years, but he was not the man you thought he was. Discovering his affair with his secretary Alys Rivers, you had decided that enough was enough. You packed up your things in secret and left, leaving divorce papers on the table, and booked a one way ticket out of the country.

What will happen when Aemond goes to the ends of the earth to find you and make you his again?

WARNINGS: This fic is 18+. Readers discretion is advised. She/her pronouns, stalking, abuse, toxic relationships, infidelity, divorce, NONCON, manipulation, gaslighting, marriage, rough sex, choking, hitting, punching, yandere, obsessive behaviour, possessive behaviour, forced orgasm, violence, daddy kink, dacryphilia, head injury.

PAIRINGS: Modern!Dark!Aemond x reader

Word count: 10.2k

NOTES: Well, well, well.... Here we are. You have all been so feral waiting for this to drop and I am honestly so excited to see you all crawling about in my walls after. Probably shouldn't have to say this by now but will for new folks, READ THE TAGS, this is a DARK!FIC. There is no fluff or happiness lmao. This has been so fucking fun to write hehehe.... Anyway.... Without further adieu... Enjoy ;) <3

The soft hissing of the kettle took you away from the book you had been reading, nestled against one of the many windows in the small cottage you now owned.

Taking the kettle from the stove, you poured the boiled water over your tea leaves, watching the herbal mix swirl in the strainer.

The soft aroma of chamomile and peppermint wafted from the cup and you inhaled deeply, leaning against the kitchen bench as you waited for it to steep, no use going back to your book nook until the tea was ready to take with you.

The leaves from the pine trees in the forest outside had turned a deep green, the cold chill of winter having rolled through the valley of the quaint village you lived in early this year. Condensation rose from earth as the sun heated the mildew on the grass, the smokey illusion seeping from the forest floor.

It was different to the city. No more were the days of craning your head up to look at the crawling skyline of buildings, the sound of traffic, or yelling of people on the street. No more did you hear cars blare their horns or music, or the melodic sounds of people chattering in the late hours of the night or fights between lovers from apartments surrounding.

Now, the most noise you heard was the occasional storm that rolled through the valley, or the deer that wondered the pasture at the back of your property.

You could remember the first night you heard them, such a different and unfamiliar screeching that had set your hair on edge, eyes darting about to each window and front door as you raced around the house to make sure they were locked.

They always were.

You were meticulous that way. Always vigilant, always ready.

But in reality, you shouldn’t still be on edge.

It had been months since you left.

Almost an entire year since you packed your things and left the papers and your ring on the table for him to find. And what’s more, there would be no way for him to find you out here.

Not that he would even try.

You hoped.

It wasn’t as if you didn’t love him, or loved him; the lines were still blurred there. But Aemond had broken you in ways you never knew he could.

The lies, the secrecy, and then, her.

You remembered when you had first met Alys; a work event Aemond brought you along to. The pretty wife and happy family image did wonders for his company and the press, so he often brought you along on his arm, smiles and grins for the cameras, whispers of starting a family or trying for one, until you were out of view.

But that time had been different.

That time, something had changed.

You had known about Alys Rivers for a while, a new hire going months back. A woman from no notable name, nor background, a start up of her own, worked hard to get where she was, or at least, that’s what you had first thought when Aemond had described her to you; his new secretary hire.

An older woman, not one a wife would usually find as a threat.

It’s almost always the younger ones. Older men seeking out their youth between the thighs of a barely twenty-something, whilst their wives are none the wiser, or perhaps knowing and too resigned to care, birthing them children at home as their marriage dissolves into nothing but a loveless legal contract.

But this was different.

She hadn’t come to introduce herself at first, not at all, and that’s what you found the strangest.

Alys Rivers, a few inches taller than you, with pale skin and bright green eyes, had stood in the far end of the hired venue, sipping a glass of red wine, perfectly manicured maroon nails tapping on the glass, whilst she tucked an ebony strand of hair behind her ear.

You had felt the heat of her gaze immediately, your eyes meeting hers, and yet, she didn’t look away, didn’t smile softly, walk over and introduce herself as any other woman would have. She just stared. Right into your very soul. It had sent shivers down your spine, and you knew, in that moment, that something was wrong.

Off.

Aemond had done his rounds with his private investors, higher employees, friends, if you could call them that, and press alike, all whilst you stuck by his side, smiling pretty and responding with shallow answers that didn’t give too much or too little for them to talk about later.

You hated those stuffy events, men and women alike always trying to get closer to you in order to get to Aemond, who was a fortress to begin with. Some people often commented or made joking remarks at how surprised they were that you had married him. That you had managed to thaw the Ice Man himself, that he was even capable of such things, and you would always laugh and make jokes back in good nature, smile never reaching your eyes.

But really, he was amazing when you were first married. Doting, loving, loyal, and always there, though that was sometimes overbearing. There was of course the little things, the teeny red flags that you ignored more often than not, rose tinted glasses and all that, but you had been young and in love and crazy about him, and he had been the same about you.

But as the years rolled by, and the two of you grew, you also both changed. The business expanded rapidly with the death of his father Viserys, and Aemond became more preoccupied with that legacy, most of the empire being passed along to him, and not his older brother Aegon, who had no desire to work and would rather live off his inherited wealth with drugs and weekend benders surrounded by lusty women. Occasionally men too.

And then when Alys came into the picture, it was like a switch had been flicked.

As though the Aemond you had thought you knew, never existed at all.

Alys had sauntered her way over half way through the event to introduce herself, all saccharine smile with razor sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into your flesh. She was polite, pleasant, overly pleasant, too sweet, too complimentary, and it felt off. Like an overripe peach, or wine that had been left open for a week too long.

Your husband had been stiff at your side, hand flexing around the tumbler of whiskey the entire time she stood beside him, too close to be friendly, and most certainly far too close for a boss and his secretary. And really, you should have listened to your instincts then and there, for they screamed that something was amiss.

But Aemond had a way of getting into your head, making you believe every word he said, push away your own instincts, and question yourself over, and over.

And that’s what you had done.

Questioned yourself, over and over.

Yet one day, something in the back of your head nagged at you too loudly. Aemond had not answering his personal number, calls you could understand, but usually he responded to his texts. But that day he hadn't. And so you called the office, where he spent most of his time these days, which had become a frustrating new normal, as was the depletion of your small weekends away, romantic dinners, spontaneous days out together.

The marriage felt stagnant, stale, and you knew in your gut the true reason for it. His desk had rang for too many rings too long. And when Alys had finally answered, she sounded rushed, caught unawares, awkward.

That was all it had took.

You had asked if he had his lunch yet, that you were nearby in the city and wondering if you should drop by, knowing that he had been spending later evenings in the office ‘working’, or weekend trips away to Harrenhal for business there, his secretary tagging along.

Alys informed you that he had just ate, but the way she said it was with that same overly sweetness that set your brain afire.

It was almost smug.

And so, without even hesitating, like you had for months on end, you picked up your keys and left, heading straight to his office.

Your heart had raced the entire time you drove there, weaving through traffic, just knowing, knowing, something, deep in your gut was not right.

And you were right.

Because there they were, caught like two deers in the headlights as you had swung the door open, Alys, seated on his desk, skirt pushed up to her hips, one shoe lost to the floor as Aemond thrusted into her parted legs.

They hadn’t even heard you at first.

But she saw you.

And she had smiled.

You will always remember his face.

He had turned and looked at you with shock at first, but then it turned to anger, as though you were at fault for this, as though you had ruined his fun, as though you should have known better, scar on his cheek crinkling with the sneer he threw your way.

You left in a flurry of hot tears, immediately calling your lawyer.

You drove straight to your best friend Sara’s house, and crashed at hers for the week, ignoring the constant buzz of calls and texts, and yes, even emails from your husband. Aemond in his desperation to reach out to you, even drove to Sara’s house, demanding if you were there. You had hid in the bathroom, holding your breath in the tub, shaking with anger and heartbreak and fighting the urge to go out there, to yell at him, scream at him, or more dangerous still, forgive him.

Then you were gone, speaking to your solicitor to get everything set into motion, friends loyally supporting your decision. You left the divorce papers on the dining room table, packed your bags and left whilst he was at the office, giving him no chance to manipulate you into staying, no chance for argument, and no chance for your heart to win over, taking your essentials and sentimental possessions with you.

You stood in your home, looking at everything inside, at all the memories that you shared in there. From when you had first looked at the house, to buying it, to Aemond's insistence on christening every single surface in the house to make it yours, all giggles and smiles, pleasure and joy.

But gone were those days, gone was the joy and the giggles, the pleasure and the smiles, and so with shaky fingers, you ripped off your wedding ring, finger feeling bare in its absence as you left it atop the pages.

At first you were just hoping to get some space to clear your head and not be manipulated by your husbands lies and very convincing words again. You knew that if you gave him a chance, you would be stuck. You knew that if he pleaded, if he begged, if he smiled with his signature smirk, it would be your downfall. He knew you far too intimately now. He knew how to get you to bend to his will. So you booked the nearest ticket you could and raced to the airport, not once looking back.

You had just landed in Paris when you turned your phone back on, watching the screen as it lit up, where you were immediately bombarded with multiple missed calls from him and a barrage of texts that became more, and more aggressive as time went on.

It was your fault really, to poke the dragon the way you had.

And yet you still did it, answering one of his frantic calls to hear the cool and icy tone of Aemond, barely keeping it together on the other end.

“Where are you?” He had asked, voice deep and quiet, small growl on the end; a tell tale sign that he was furious.

The airport was loud around you, people moving to their next gates, or stopping to move to the small cafes to eat, others continuing onwards towards the baggage claim to collect their luggage.

“It's none of your business.” You had responded, tone clipped, irritation and anger surging through you at his audacity to even be mad.

“I think it’s plenty my business. You’re my wife.”

“Not anymore. Have your solicitor talk to mine. Sign the papers, Aemond.”

You heard him breathe heavily into the speaker, “If you think for one fucking second that I’m going to-“

You pressed the red button on your phone and hung up on him, shoving your phone into your back pocket as you moved lazily through the queue to get through customs.

By the time you had gotten out the other end, you checked your phone again.

There was only one text on the screen that had sent panic blaring through your mind.

‘See you soon.’

You hadn’t planned to run, you hadn’t even planned to leave the country indefinitely, you just needed an out, but Aemond’s aggression had extended it, triggering your flight instincts. You didn’t believe that he would hurt you, but this new anger had frightened you. This new Aemond frightened you.

But Aemond Targaryen’s anger was not new to you either, his possessiveness was not new, and at one point you had even found it endearing. But after years of being married to what you thought was the man of your dreams, the other shoe dropped, and the true man was revealed.

So you made quick work of it, going to an international bank, taking every single cent out of your combined account.

You knew he wouldn’t struggle financially from such a loss, having another seperate offshore account, or two, or five if you were really counting. Not to mention his inheritance which sat in a vault in Budapest.

Comes with being descended from royalty.

But in the end, you knew you needed every dollar if you were going to get away from him and make it stick.

So you got a new passport, ID, and hitchhiked your way across several countries until you finally settled, finding a cottage, nestled in the woods, a solid thirty minute drive from town, buying it from the local farmer in cash. No contract. No deed. Just cash and his silence.

And that’s where you had been ever since.

You took your tea to the window, settling against the nook, pillows and blankets strewn all over as you curled inside. You looked out at the trees, the sun slowly setting for the day.

It was cold in your cottage, not too cold, but cold enough. Winter had come early that year, and you had used more logs of wood for the fire than you had thought you would have needed.

It was strange, to be so far away from the life you used to live. To be so removed from the world. But in some ways it was good. You had no social media, having deactivated every single one you had, and you also had barely any use of your phone unless you turned on the broadband, which was shaky at best and if it was windy, the reception would cut out.

The only people you really spoke to anymore was the people who lived in the town just a ways away, and Sara, who called every Sunday like clockwork, well actually like clockwork, you needed to turn the broadband on for Skype to work on the laptop you had taken with you.

In the almost year you had been gone, you had taught yourself how to make your own clothes, pickle and preserve foods, and even became quite handy at baking the odd loaf of bread here and there. The farmers whose cottage it was previously had left his belongings behind, taking only his clothes and things of memory with him.

There were books almost everywhere, the old man having been an avid reader, and amongst the books had been one on horticulture, and so slowly but surely, you had grown your own self sustaining vegetable patch. It wasn’t perfect, but it prevented you from going into town too often, and also allowed you to not seek employment just yet.

That would come later when Sara would tell you that Aemond would sign the papers.

But every Sunday was the same.

“Any news?” You asked her that morning, Sara had frowned, pixelated to hell, but the frown still evident on your screen.

“Nope. Nothing. The asshole won’t sign them still. Solicitor can’t even find him to talk.”

You sighed, wiping hands down your face angrily.

Why was he doing this?

Why wouldn’t he just let you go?

Something about it made your skin crawl.

Those messages, those calls.

The ‘See you soon’ text.

Something had snapped in Aemond, and you didn’t like it one bit.

Your only consolation was that you were far away with a new name, new life, hidden amongst rolling green hills and large forests.

“How’s Cregan?” You changed the subject, and Sara had given you an update on everyones lives, her brothers first, and his new girlfriend. Then to all your other friends who you longed to see again.

But not yet, you just needed a little more time and for your husband to agree to the divorce.

When the sun had lowered in the sky, you moved to turn the lights in the house on, throwing some logs into the fire and lighting them with a match. You made sure to thank the Gods for solar panels.

The warmth of the fire heated up the small cottage quickly, and you made quick work of reheating a lamb soup you made a few days earlier, crisp homemade bread on the side with butter from a nearby dairy farmer.

It was hearty and warm, and filled you up, having a soporific affect on you. You had a glass of red wine as a treat afterwards, bought from the local markets and found yourself sinking deeper into fatigue.

It was a routine of sort, wake, eat, read, work on the garden or house, eat, drink, sleep. It was comfortable, and it eased much of your worries, always keeping busy. You didn’t realise how stressed and anxious the life you used to live made you.

The week went by, much the same.

The same routine.

The same walls, and floors, and rooms.

Same window nook, and cups of tea, and warming your hands by the fire.

By the time Saturday rolled by, you had been elated, excited even, to get out and look at the homemade wares and farm grown produce. To see the people you had grown to care about and make as your quiet friends. Still at arms length of course with your fake new life, but you let them in more than you had intended to.

It was never a large market, merely the other people who lived in or around the tiny town. But it was cozy, sweet, and some faces were more familiar than others. You looked forward to seeing them all and catching up on their weeks, especially an older lady named Lucy, who crocheted and knitted some of the most wonderful things. She had kind grey eyes, and would always insist on you taking something from her for free.

Today was no different.

“You make this most difficult, hen.” The grey haired woman frowned, coming round the side of her small stall to shove a large, grey knitted jumper into your arms, the same colour as her eyes.

You shook your head, “Lucy, please, at least let me give you some money for it.” Grabbing the soft wool that was pressed against your chest.

The older lady smirked, hands up in the air in submission, “It’s too late,” Her voice was thick with a Scottish accent, “You best be taking that, girly. It’ll be a cold winter that comes round this year, I feel it in my bones already.”

You sighed, “Then let me give you some money for it, and you can buy some more wool to make yourself some warm socks.” Fishing around in your bag to find some cash to give her.

Lucy crossed her arms across her chest, “Gonny no dae that. If you give me any money I’ll be right offended by you, I’ll gie ye a skelpit lug. It’s a gift, you dafty.”

You shook your head and chuckled, there was no point in fighting.

You would never win anyway.

“Fine.” You acquiesced, “But I’m coming to drop you some muffins and scones when I make them next week.”

The older lady sat down heavily in her chair behind the stall, “I expect nothing less. Will you bring some strawberries from yer plot? Dang caterpillars got into mine and tore them to shreds.”

“I’ll bring you a mix of goodies from my wonderful garden that has no caterpillars.” You teased, rubbing the woollen jumper between your fingers, “Thanks again, Lucy, but you’re a menace.”

“Got to be when yer married to my husband.” Lucy joked, but it made your heart race instead.

You swallowed thickly and smiled shakily at the woman, nodding before bidding her a goodbye.

You walked through the rest of the market for a while, getting some fresh honey from a local farmer, some potatoes for a stew later on, and even buying yourself a new handmade mug.

It was a bustling affair, small children giggling with their parents, and older members of town who had been born and raised there walking about and stopping to talk with their life long companions.

Bright bunches of flowers caught your attention, and you moved over to look at them all.

Native flowers of all kinds were bunched together; roses, petunias, anything that could survive the chillier climate. And as you looked at a peculiar shaped purple flower, hooded like a bell, the hair on the back of your neck stood up.

A shiver rolled down your spine, and instinctually you turned, eyes darting around the rest of the market, looking at the sea of people, young and old, walking with their wares, chatting amongst each other or smiling.

Not one had that familiar head of silver hair.

You breathed out a sigh, shaking your head.

It’s fine.

You’re fine.

You’re safe.

It’s just your anxiety. It was probably just Lucy’s comment that set you on edge.

Not even Sara truly knew where you were.

You looked back at the flowers again, eyes on the purple ones that were nestled amongst pea flowers and other pinks and yellows.

“Devils Helmut.” The man told you, noting your interest in its peculiar shape, “Monkshood to others, or Wolfsbane to those witchy ones.” His eyes looked at you intently, “You ok? Yer lookin’ a bit peely wally.”

He was tall, older, but not by much, with deep brown eyes and wavy brunette hair that came to his shoulders, tucked behind his ears. His jaw was sharp, a nice shadow across the skin from his stubble, with lips that were full and pulled upwards slightly. He had broad shoulders and large hands, tiny freckles dusting the pale skin as he watched you.

He was relatively new to town like you, but not really. Duncan, you remembered, had moved back to the little town after his father had passed away, inheriting the plot of land that was next to yours. Lucy had spilled the tea, over a cup of tea, about him with you a few months before, telling you that he was an eligible bachelor with a wink, trying to set the two of you up.

And although he was undeniably attractive, you worried for the implications of getting to know him, and eventually having to tell him about your marriage, and why you were truly where you were. You doubted the man would want anything to do with your baggage.

“I’m okay, just a bit cold. How have you been?” You asked him, the feeling of being watched prickling at the back of your head.

“Fairly good.” Duncan rolled his r deeply, same low Scottish timbre as Lucy, distracting you from the rancid feeling that curled in your gut, “The winter’s come early this year.”

Duncan leant a hand against the table, and you noted that there was no ring on his finger.

Stop that.

“That’s what Lucy said too. Can definitely feel it.”

Duncan looked pointedly at the jumper still in your hands, “And what’s she given you this time?”

Unfolding the jumper in your arms you held it up, holding it against yourself to show him, “A new jumper. Will be perfect when it gets colder. Wish she’d stop throwing things at me and not letting me pay though.”

Duncan laughed, a deep chortle that rumbled his chest and warmed your cheeks, “That’s Lucy for you. She does the same to me too, the auld blether.”

You laughed heartily, “We should go in doubles to the markets when you’re not selling. There’s strength in numbers, you know.”

Oh gods. Why did you say that?

A soft smile pulled on his lips, “You don’t know Lucy well enough if you think we’d stand a chance against her. She’d bowl us over without even blinking.”

Another laugh, and a shrug, "Worth the try.”

Duncan’s eyes scanned your face softly before he stepped forward, grabbing the bunch of flowers you had been looking at from their little vase, holding them out towards you, “Here.”

You looked at the flowers in his hands and frowned, “What?”

“Take them.” He insisted, “You looked right keen on the Monkshood, mean bloody flower that one. Be careful you don’t touch it too much.”

You shook your head, tucking your jumper into your bag, “I can’t possibly-“

“-Please. I insist.”

You reached forward to take the flowers from him hesitantly, feeling guilt bubble inside of you. What was with all these people and their generosity? It was going to give you an aneurism.

Your fingers brushed against his, and the warmth carried up your arm and straight into your chest. Duncan must have felt it too, because a soft blush creeped across his freckled cheeks.

Holding the bunch of flowers to your chest you smiled.

“You don’t have any pets at home? Any cats that might try and make a snack of the flowers?” Duncan pointed to the Monkshood.

You shook your head, “No it’s just me.”

His eyes danced as he nodded, and you felt as if you had answered his second question without him even having to ask.

“Thank you. They’re beautiful.”

A large hand waved the thanks away, “Dinnae worry about it. Though, I have heard good things about yer baking.”

“Have you now? Has Lucy spilt all my secrets?”

A smirk, “Not yer secrets no. But yer baking, yes.”

Feeling bold, you smirked back, “I could make you something, if you’d like." You held up the flowers in show, "As a thanks, of course.”

“What can you make?”

“Anything you want.” You said quieter, swallowing the anticipation that rose in your throat.

“Can you make a good scone?”

You scoffed, “Easiest of things to bake.”

Duncan mirrored your stance, pursing his lips, “Guess I’ll have to be the judge of that then. Do you have enough wood for yer fire? Snow will be falling soon, and we dinnae want you chittering in the cold.”

“I’ve got some left, but I know I’ll probably have to go over to Douglas and Lucy’s to get some more.”

The brown haired man paused in thought, tongue in cheek before he spun around, crouching down to rifle through a bag beneath his table, pulling out a pen and paper.

Duncan placed the small notebook in front of you.

“How about this, you give me yer number, and I’ll come round and bring you some more wood, maybe chop some for the fire as well, and you can thank me by making some scones. I can bring some of Elsie’s jam with me.” Duncan looked up at you, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

And although he had spoken with confidence, it was clear that he was just as nervous as you.

It was hard to fight the heat that creeped up your neck. Excitement and anticipation coursing through you, the feeling of being desired making you giddy.

It had been so long.

You bit your bottom lip softly nodding, leaning down to write your home phone number, making a note to plug the old thing in, praying that it still works, as well as your address into the notebook.

Duncan smiled softly, taking it back and looked at the note, “You didn’t have to write down yer address, I know you bought Macnair’s property a while back, we're practically neighbours. Not accounting for the acres between us.”

“Oh.” You laughed softly, “Sorry, I didn’t know you knew him.”

“Hard to not know everyone here, especially when you grew up around them all. Plus, hard to not notice the bonnie lass who moved here. Quite the stir you created.”

You shook your head and blushed again, Gods damn him, “Not my intention.”

You both stood shyly for a moment, staring at each other, a warm pleasant tension building around the two of you.

Duncan cleared his throat, and clapped his hands together softly, “Right. Well, It’s a dreich day, so you best be off before the rain comes again.” He held the notebook up in his hand and shook it lightly, “You’ll be seeing me soon then. I’ll be coming to collect some of those scones.”

You grinned, and held the flowers gently in show again, “I hope they’re up to your standards. Thanks again for the flowers. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

The blaring ring of the Skype call filled your cottage. You raced from the kitchen to the desk, answering Sara’s call with a bright smile.

“Sar!” You smiled, pulling out your chair to sit in it, looking at your best friends face. But her excitement did not match yours, and instead, her face filled you with dread.

“Sar, what’s wrong?”

You watched as Sara visibly swallowed, leaning towards her computer, “Aemond’s left the country.”

Chills ran over your body.

“Oh, he must have a conference in Rome or Budapest. He always used to-“

“-No.” Sara interrupted you, and her voice instilled a rising sense of fear that you had been battling with for months, “Y/n, I don’t think that’s it. He’s already been gone over a week. That’s why the solicitor couldn’t talk to him him.”

Your heart raced in your chest, blood rushing in your ears.

Sara continued as you felt the walls around you move closer, “That’s why the solicitor couldn’t get in contact with him. They went to his office. Apparently he’s on leave, not even Alys was there.”

You licked your lips, swallowing dryly, “What do I do? Fuck, Sara, what do I do?”

“Don’t panic. He doesn’t know where you are! Hell, I don’t even know where you are.”

“I know, I know. But still…” You paused, breathing shallowly, “Sara, I went to the markets yesterday, and it was… Off. Something was off… And I just couldn’t shake this feeling that I was being watched.” You felt like you were going to be sick.

Sara’s face fell, head turning to talk to someone else quietly in the room.

“Who’s that?”

“Just Cregan. He’s talking to Helaena.”

You scoffed sadly, “Helaena won’t know anything. She didn’t even know about Alys.”

Sara shrugged, image becoming pixelated, “I-…-ow…-bu-….-o….-harm…-“

“Sar, you’re cutting up.”

You swore, swatting the computer lightly as her image froze.

Fucking broadband. Gods, maybe you should invest in getting a satellite dish here. At least you could get some cable tv if you did.

“-come to you.” Sara unfroze, the pixels evening out to an almost smooth image.

You groaned, “I didn’t catch any of that. Fucking internet cut out.”

“Can you get a satellite or something like a normal person and not be such a hermit? I said, why don’t I come to you.”

“I couldn’t ask that of you, Sar. Besides, he wouldn’t hurt me, not that he’d ever find me. He’s just an asshole. Probably curse me out and tell me I’m making it all up.”

Sara’s face dropped again, and you wished she was pixelated so you couldn’t see it, the image making your skin crawl, “Y/n. Theres something you don’t know.”

You straightened in your chair, “Is Alys pregnant?”

“No. She’s too old for that. Something else. Something Jacaerys told Cregan one night years ago. I didn’t want to tell you then, you guys were so in love, and I had never seen you so happy. I just,” She sighed, “I didn’t even really believe it until recently.”

“Sar, you’re scaring me.”

She shook her head, “I know, I know. But as you said, he doesn’t know where you are, and he won’t find you. But Y/n, Aemond isn’t who we think he is.”

“Are you about to tell me he’s some sort of international spy, or politician in hiding?” You tried to joke, but the joke fell flat.

Sara’s head looked to the side before back at the screen, “When Aemond was young, he had a temper. A real bad one. Never got along with his nephews.” She took a steadying breath, “When Lucerys was thirteen and Aemond was nineteen, he attacked him. It was probably years of pent up anger after the accident, a fight had been brewing, but he didn’t stop. No-one could stop him, Y/n. It was bad. Really bad.”

Your stomach roiled.

“Y/n, Lucerys nearly died.”

Your mouth gaped open as you could scarcely get air into your lungs.

Oh gods.

“Breathe.” Sara cooed through the computer, “Girl, you need to breathe.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, hand rubbing your chest, “What the fuck?”

“I know. I know. But they were young, I mean, Aemond was a lot older, but still. They were boys. And Aemond would never do anything like that to you. Not that he will ever find you.”

You counted your breaths as Sara spoke to you, trying to get the room to stop spinning.

“Y/n, y-….I-…t wi-…ll be fine-…. I-… ca-…n…-“

You growled at your screen, standing up in anger and frustration, anxiety pulling cruelly at your gut. You paced in front of the desk as you waited for your friend to come back into view.

When she de-pixelated and came back, you leant heavily against the table.

“You got your phone with you?” You asked, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Yea.” Sara lifted her phone to the screen.

“Okay, I’m going to give you my address. When do you think you can come?”

A cry flew from your lips.

The cottage was bathed in complete darkness, generator slowing to halt outside, the soft hum of electricity disappearing. Your heart lurched into your throat as you stood in the darkness. Skype screen blaring a ‘Lost Connection’ notification at you.

You took shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself.

This wasn’t unusual.

Just last month a squirrel had been trying to burrow into the electrical box for warmth and chewed through a cable. Luckily for you, Douglas had come over to fix up the wiring and helped you on your way. But with all that had been happening, it gave you a right scare.

Your heart did not slow in your chest, nor did you calm with the way your ears pricked at any noise inside or out. You stumbled through the darkness of the cottage to the kitchen, searching beneath the sink for your emergency torch.

Grasping it in your hand, you clicked it on, lone beam of light shining a path for you through the house to the front door. You crept slowly forward, the sound of your loud breathing in your ear as you got to the door.

You would have to go out and flip the switches manually, and make sure the damned squirrel wasn’t back.

Throwing on your wellies, you unlocked the four deadlocks you had installed on your door one by one until you opened it wide, the valley blanketed in the darkness of the night, clouds shrouding the moon and stars. The shadows of the forest around your house made you more on edge, every trunk or branch causing your eyes to linger that moment longer to decipher what it was.

But they were just that.

Trees.

You trudged around the side of the cottage, shoes crunching on the ground below as you made your way to the back. The icy air nipped at your skin, and you tugged the jumper that Lucy had knitted tightly around you.

They were right, winter had come early this year.

You would have to thank her later.

When you reached the electrical box, you tugged it open, shining the torch on all the different switches inside.

The main switch was flicked off.

For fucks sake.

The broadband must have blown it out.

The cottage was old, and the electricals likely older. But the solar panel were new, and you had a sneaking suspicion that perhaps the different generations of technology were clashing. You briefly wondered how costly it would be to have someone come to rewire the house for you.

As you looked at all the other switches, making sure they all looked in order, and the wires coming from out the back were all in tact, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

You never liked coming out here in the dark.

It was scary, and although there was nothing out here to hurt you, unless there was a miracle lone pack of wolves that came strolling by, which you knew could never happen, since Lucy had told you wolves were hunted to extinction there. So it was just you, the trees and the moon.

The sound of a twig snapping in the woods made you spin on your heel, shining the torch out at the trees in vain. The light didn’t reach very far, illuminating just the front row of trunks, leaving the rest to be bathed in its dense darkness. Your heart thumped in your chest as your eyes scanned the woods.

It’s fine.

It’s nothing.

I’ve just worked myself up.

Gods.

It was probably just a deer or something.

You remembered the day you woke up to a whole herd of deer outside your cottage one morning, quietly munching on the grass outside. You had nearly screamed with joy, but kept the excitement inside, tiptoeing to sit in your window nook and watch them graze.

Holding the box open with one hand, you popped the small torch in your mouth with the other, holding it in your teeth as you flicked all the switches off, and then back on again.

You looked to the house.

Still dark.

You groaned, and did it again.

Again, nothing.

No hum of the motor kicking back on.

“Third times a charm.” You mumbled with the torch in your teeth, flicking the power back on.

The steady buzz of electricity came back, and the lights from the house illuminated a path for you back inside. You all but slammed the box shut and sped back inside to the safety of your cottage, spinning quickly to shut the door behind you, rapidly locking it tight with the deadlocks.

One, two, three, four.

You sighed a breath of relief.

See? Nothing. Just country electricals and wild deer.

You toed off your gumboots, hanging your keys on the hook beside the door.

You needed a glass of wine.

That would do it, a glass of wine and maybe some baking.

“Took me a while to find you.”

Ice ran down your back. Your heart leapt out of your throat as you spun on your feet, fear crashing over you.

You blinked.

And there he was.

Standing in your lounge room.

He had found you.

Aemond’s jaw ticked.

You were so in shock, so terrified that you couldn’t move, entirely rooted to the floor in place as your breath was caught in your throat. Your mouth opened as you tried to suck in air, head feeling light, but you couldn’t even speak. Couldn’t even let the scream out that clawed at the back of your throat.

He had found you.

Aemond took a step towards you, dressed in all black, his long silver hair pulled away from his face in a braid, “I told you, I would see you soon.”

Instincts kicked in, and like a startled deer, you ran. Tearing down the short hallway to get to your room, where you knew the old shot gun Macnair had left behind was hiding beneath the bed. But Aemond was quicker, and you heard his loud steps before you felt him, grabbing you from behind as you kicked your legs back and screamed, trying to get out of his grip.

“Did you really fucking think you could get away from me?” He grunted, holding you impossibly tight, “That I’d ever let you go? It was just by chance that I saw you today, I didn’t even think to go to the markets.” He explained, and tears prickled in your eyes.

You were right, you were being watched.

“But there you were. The Gods brought us back together again, Y/n. I was about to give up. But it was fate that our paths crossed again. It was meant to be.”

You thrashed against him, his arm locking around your chest and neck tightly. You turned your head and bit down on his arm, hard, tasting blood fill your mouth. Aemond hissed, tearing himself from your teeth as he dropped you to the ground, knees collapsing beneath you as you scrambled along the floor to get away.

“Fucking bitch.”

Pain rippled up your scalp as Aemond gripped you by your hair, throwing you back against the floor. Your head hit the wooden boards, eyes sluggishly blinking as the room spun and nausea curled in your stomach.

Your husband stood over you, sneering.

“You’ve been hiding out here for months whilst I’ve been looking for you. Having an affair with that other man who gave you the flowers.” Duncan, “Almost paid him a visit, but that can be done later. Spent all this time searching for my ungrateful cunt of a wife, but you didn’t hide well enough.”

His lone eye narrowed as he looked down at you, lips pulled back in a sneer. Strands of his silver hair had fallen from his braid and puffed with each breath as he stared down at you, chest rising and falling roughly.

You scrambled backwards, nails digging into the wood as he stalked forward, hunting you like prey.

“Money talks. And I have a lot of money. Which you would know, since you cleared out our joined account. Very naughty, Y/n.”

“Fuck you. Get out!” You screamed, kicking a leg at him.

Aemond laughed, dodging your kick, “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my wife.”

“I’m not your fucking wife, you psycho.”

“No?” Aemond paused, cocking his head, “Then why are we still on the marriage register? Hm?”

Your back hit the side of the bed, hands swiping underneath desperately in search as you kicked at him again. Aemond swatted your legs away with ease, smirking down at you meanly. But he couldn’t block your kicks forever, and your foot hit him squarely in his groin.

Aemond grunted, doubling over in pain.

You took your chance, desperate to escape as you crawled forward, away from the bed, dizzy and horrified, all instincts telling you to run, not fight.

Besides, you didn’t even know how to use the gun, let alone if it was even loaded.

You stood, side stepping him as you moved to run out the bedroom door.

Your head hit the wooden frame with a crack, smashed into it by Aemond’s large hand. Stars bloomed behind your eyes, pain shooting through your skull. You tried to catch yourself on the door, your nails digging painfully into the wood as you cried, the hand gripping your hair, pulling you back into the room.

Aemond threw you onto the bed, looming over you, “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment? To see you again? How hard it was to find you? And you’re acting like such an ungrateful little bitch.”

You grunted and cried, trying to get away, desperate to get yourself off the bed as he pushed you back on it.

“Get off me!”

“But a husband needs his wife,” He leered down at you, pupil wide, “I’ve been dying without you, Y/n. I’ve been bereft ever since you left me. Abandoning me like a coward.” Aemond shook his head, “You could never really leave me. You’re mine.”

“I hate you!” You screamed at him.

Aemond smiled down at you softly, stilling for a moment. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you looked at him, “No you don’t.”

His smile dropped from his face in an instant, shadow cast over his scarred cheek as he looked at you blankly, “And if you do, I’ll make you love me again.”

His hands slid down your body, and began to tear at your pants, busting the button from your jeans, sending it flying across the room, then ripping the zipper apart.

Sobs flew from your lips as you pushed up at him, desperate to make him stop, fear escalating within you, “Stop! Aemond. Stop!”

Your fingers tangled in the bed sheets as you kicked at him, knuckles going white as you tried to drag yourself up and away from him on the bed, nails pulling sharply as you used every ounce of strength you had left. The room still spun as your head throbbed with every movement or jolt of your body.

Long fingers dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans and tugged them and your underwear down your legs as you struggled and cried and clawed at him.

“Been a while since you played this game with me.” Aemond chuckled darkly, “Do you remember when you used to pretend you didn’t want it? When you’d say ‘Stop! Please, no!’ and cum around my cock all coy?”

You blinked, memories erupting inside your brain. But those days were consensual, that was fun, something he had even introduced you to. But now? This? This was different. This was not a game. This was not play.

You kicked at his chest, heel clipping his shoulder sharply, a grunt falling from his lips. Aemond slapped a leg away, other hand gripping your thigh tightly. You cried out in pain as his fingers dug into your skin meanly, pain rippling up it.

Your hands tried to pry his fingers away, but the glinting of his wedding ring caught your attention.

He was still wearing it.

He ripped open his belt, and terror struck inside of you.

“Aemond, no. Please. Stop! Aemond stop, please!”

But all the man did was smile down at you crudely, “Gods, I’ve missed your begging. So sweet and small when you’d get on your knees and beg for my cock.” He pulled his length from his slacks, hard and angry, a drop of arousal smeared across his tip, “You’re so fucking beautiful. And you’re mine. My wife.”

You felt like you were going to throw up, thrashing beneath him as he crawled atop of you.

You dug your nails into his arms, trying to swipe at his face and neck, your teeth bared, ready to bite down onto whatever limb came into their collision course.

“Stop.” He growled, slotting himself between your thighs, overpowering you completely.

You sobbed beneath him, begging him to stop, screaming at him to get off, grunting as you twisted beneath the sheets, your head still spinning with small stars that continued to multiply in front of your eyes, the corners of your vision shrouded in black.

In one final attempt, you went for what you knew would hurt him, what you knew would stop him, slow him down.

Give you time.

And so with the heel of your hand, you thrust it upwards into his face, connecting with his prosthetic eye, clipping the painful scar tissue that would sometimes wake him in the middle of the night in tears.

Aemond’s head withdrew with a sharp and pained cry, one palm pushing into his eye socket as he tried to calm the agony. You pushed against his shoulders, trying to move out from underneath, but Aemond was quicker, and his enraged gaze landed on you. The hand that had been pushing into his face, curled into a tight fist.

Your head whipped to the side, and a cool blanket of darkness washed over you.

You laid in it for a while, with no thoughts, no terror, no fear, just that darkness that curled around you quietly.

It was nice for a moment, almost comforting.

Just the feeling of not being there.

But then the blanket faded away, and pain bloomed in your face, iron on your tongue as you blinked in confusion.

There was movement and a weight atop you. Something sliding against your core.

And then, pain.

You whined, hands shoving against the chest above you as Aemond speared you on his length, thrusting sharply and dryly into you as he reached his hilt, the tip of his cock pushing painfully against your cervix.

You gagged quietly, head throbbing as the room spun, your arms weakly pushing at him, feeling as though they were made out of lead. Each movement of your body sent pain rippling through your skull, and bile into your mouth.

“Take it like a good wife.” Aemond growled, pulling his length out of you before thrusting it back in sharply.

You cried loudly, pain spreading through your core as you felt him tear at your walls.

He was always larger, much larger than anyone you had had before, and when you were together, he would have to spend ample time to prepare you, but you would always be wet to help.

The only wetness you felt now, was from your own blood.

Aemond began a harsh and rough pace, with long sharp thrusts that jolted you up the bed on his length, cries of pain bleeding from your lips as you cried, turning your head away from him.

You still tried to push at his chest weakly, nails scratching at him through the dark shirt he wore, but it was no use.

He grunted above you, picking up his pace, wrapping his hands around your neck for leverage. He squeezed, not tightly, but as a warning, and your eyes shot open to look up at him, hands clawing at his to try and get him to release you. The more you dug your nails into his skin, the more he tightened his hands until you were wheezing beneath him.

“This doesn’t have to be difficult, you just need to give in, baby. Come on. Be a good girl for me. Be a good girl for daddy.” He groaned, one hand leaving your neck to pull up the soft woollen jumper to reveal your breasts to the room.

Your nipples stiffened in the chill of the air, fireplace not having been lit yet and the cool of the early winter air seeping into the cabin.

“Fuck.” He hissed, hand coming to squeeze your breast roughly, pinching a stiffened peak between his fingers, rolling it through forefinger and thumb.

You whined in protest, hand trying to move his away.

Aemond lightly slapped your face, “Behave.” He accentuated with a hard thrust, another warning, sending pain shooting through your gut, “I’ll even let you cum. Be a good girl for me and I’ll let you cum, hm? Is that what my pretty wife wants?”

You shook your head weakly, tears overspilling from your eyes and down your cheeks, a sob working its way through your lips.

Aemond bent down and licked the trail of tears from your cheek, “Fuck.” He moaned, thrusting into you faster, “Forgot how fucking tight you were. Gods. Gonna have to make up for time lost aren’t we? You’ve been such” Thrust, “A naughty” Thrust “Girl.” Thrust.

Your core clenched around him instinctually, Aemond adjusting his hips upwards so that his length would brush against the soft spongey spot within. His pace faltered, and a smirk pulled at his lips. Warmth spread through your gut.

“There she is.”

“No. Please, stop. Aemond, please. I’m begging you.” You wailed, hands gripping his arms as your nails clawed into him.

Your husband smirked down at you, “Not so cocky now that you’re mine again, huh? Where’s that bratty attitude from on the phone?”

Aemond continued to fuck at you from the new angle, one hand on your neck in a promise, the other pulling a limp leg up his hip, revulsion barreling through you as you found yourself growing wet from the angle, your body betraying you.

The sound of your slick was loud in the room, adding to your shame.

Aemond only tutted at you, “See? Only I can make you feel like this. Duncan would never be able to make you cum the way I do. No-one can. You’re mine. This pussy, is mine. And what I do with it is for me alone.”

The light in the room was too bright above you, making your head spin even more, the clapping of his hips against yours loud in your ears as his thrusts rocked your head and body backwards, a familiar coil beginning to wind in your stomach.

It was all too much.

Even the smell of him overwhelmed you.

“Can feel you squeezing my cock. You gonna cum for me, baby?” He cooed, mocking you.

“P-Please st-op, Aemond. It h-hurts.” You sobbed.

“Oh it hurts does it?” The sneer was back, Aemond’s head leant down beside your ear as he pushed to his limit, your walls gripping him tightly, and whispered, “Now you know how it felt when you left me.”

You weeped.

“I hope it fucking hurts.” Aemond leant back, fucking into you with new found vigour, sitting back on his haunches as he pulled your hips onto him, the coil getting tighter and tighter.

It was horrifying, to find your body finding pleasure from his assault, but you couldn’t stop it, no matter how hard you tried. He knew you too well. Knew your body too intimately. Knew everything that made you tick, twitch, or moan. He had spent hours, years, learning how to expertly map out your body, and he knew your body better than you did.

A slick thumb pressed down on your bud.

“Come on, baby, cum for me. Wanna feel you cum on me. If you cum for me, I’ll forgive you, okay? You cum for me and I’ll know you love me back. Come on, be a good girl, cum for me.”

His thumb swirled roughly against your bud, your hands tightening around him, unsure if you were pulling him toward you or pushing him away. Your mind hazy and confused, the world having been turned upside down.

You came with a cry, back arching off the bed as Aemond praised you through it, fucking into you harder and faster. Warmth spread through your limbs, your eyes scrunched tightly shut, bright lights behind them as your skull throbbed.

Aemond fucked your limp body, thumb leaving your clit as he held your hips with both hands, drilling into your wetness with a painful force, pulling agonising pleasure from you.

You weeped below him, keeping your eyes shut as you just wished for it to be over. For him to just finish.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna fill my pretty wife up so we can have a baby. Hm, doesn’t that sound nice? Start a family.”

You sobbed loudly, hiding your face in your hands as you turned your head away from him, the taste of blood still thick on your tongue from where he had struck you.

His pace became sloppy, thrusts uneven as he began to lose himself to pleasure.

“Fuck!” He hissed, thrusting into you sharply as he came, hot ropes of cum coating your walls as he thrusted weakly through his climax.

You chest stuttered with sobs, head spinning, but exhaustion taking over.

You were so tired.

So tired.

You just wanted to sleep.

Wanted to fade away back to that darkness again. Back to nothing.

“Shh,” Aemond hushed you from above, dipping his head to press a gentle kiss against your wet cheek and forehead, “It’s okay now. I’m here. It’s okay.”

You sobbed even harder.

Aemond pulled out of you with a hiss, a small whimper falling from your own lips as you felt pain strum through your brutalised walls. He flopped back onto the bed, dragging your body up beside him as though you weighed nothing, black blooming before your eyes as you knocked your head against the pillow, a wave of sickness rising inside.

But you didn't fight it.

There was no point.

No escape.

Nowhere to go.

Nowhere to hide.

You couldn’t run, even if you wanted to.

And so you laid in his arms as he held you whilst you cried, curling into him as the tears kept coming. He cooed at you softly, rubbing a gentle hand up and down your arm in a way he always used to.

It was so stomach turning, the different sides of Aemond, and if it wasn’t for the concussion that you certainly had, his actions alone would send your head spinning.

Because this Aemond, the soft Aemond, was the one you had known. The one who used to hold you to him, and whisper words of praise. But that was a long time ago, and the Aemond who held you now was a different man.

Someone you didn’t even know.

This Aemond was not the man you married.

Aemond pressed another kiss to the top of your head again, “It’s okay, cry it out. I know you’re sorry. And it’s okay. I'll forgive you. Alys was a mistake, but she’s gone now. She won’t be a problem anymore, okay? It’s just you and me.”

You sobbed louder, and he pulled you closer to him, tangling his legs with yours.

“I know, baby." He cooed sweetly, but it was insincere, hollow, cold, "I’ve missed you too. I love you so much, Y/n." Aemond exhaled hotly at the top. ofyour head before his voice fell to barely a whisper, "So much, you don’t know what I’m willing to do to keep you with me.”

A chill rolled down your spine.

You knew now what he was willing to do.

And with the added news of what he did to Lucerys, you wouldn’t put it past him to harm anyone that came between you again.

A wave of mourning crashed over you.

Mourning your past.

Mourning your future.

And mourning the person that you would become with him. There was no escaping this.

Him.

You inhaled his scent deeply.

He still smelt as he always did, but there was a lingering smell of pine in his clothes. The pines from the woods surrounding your home.

How long had he been out there?

How long had he been waiting?

“You’ll love me again, I know it. I’ll never leave you again. We will be happy together. Here.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes wide against his chest.

“You’ve chosen the best spot, baby. You always were clever, we can start our family here. Somewhere quiet, no-one around. Just you and me, and eventually the children. Like it was meant to be.”

A shiver rolled through you.

“Marrying you was the best decision I made in my life.” He kissed the top of your head again, smoothing your hair down with his hand lovingly, “I’ll make you see.”

You laid there as you cried, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. Having no real power over the situation, having no real way to escape or get out. If not for Aemond's sheer will, the four dead locks on the door assured it as well. He hummed softly as he let you cry, pain crashing through you in waves.

Aemond paused in thought, his thumb coming beneath your chin as he tilted your head to look up at him.

Your vision was fuzzy from the tears, and the edges were seeped in black, but you could see it. The crazed look in his eye as he gazed down at you with a hungry possessiveness.

“Do you remember our vows?” He asked, watching as you blinked at him, your lip wobbling as you tried to stop the endless stream of sobs that worked their way up your throat.

His thumb brushed gently over your bottom lip, a sharp sting sparking in it as his finger brushed over the split.

And then he smiled at you, in the same way that he had the day of your wedding, lips pulled wide, teeth revealed.

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him.

The man you had loved, the man you had married and planned a future with.

The man you had been on the run from.

His mouth parted again, smile becoming softer.

“Til death do us part.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the general tag list please let me know on the general taglist post here :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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missmimii · 3 months

Text

𖤐 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝐌 ~ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - In which Matt convinces his girlfriend to film a video in a haunted house, the fearful events taking a turn for the better once he gives her the perfect distraction to keep her fright at bay.

✰-

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, dom!matt, fem!reader, smut, f!oral receiving (Matt the munch forever), language, public(kinda?) dirty talk, light, light degradation, pet names, teasing, light fluff

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!

♡︎－ 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ * This is probably the first time I’ve written detailed smut, so let me know how I did/how I can improve! Ily guys so much, and I appreciate the recent support. It’s surreal ❤︎︎

୨ৎ － 𝐰𝐜 - 𝟕.𝟒𝐤

Starting on the current day going forward, Y/n made a promise to herself to never agree to be in a video with Matt ever again. Granted- she should’ve known he was up to no good when he offered his affection as a payment, but it was Matt.

The same Matt whose bribe seemed oddly similar to the many occasions he’d want to cling onto the girls side, press his face in the crook of her neck as he whispered all of the sinful things he thought of the beautiful girl. So when he said he’d fuck her till she saw stars, purely just for her appearance in a video, she thought nothing of it.

Because he loved his girlfriend.

Y/n was used to being in the triplets content regularly, which was given, seeing as she was the triplet’s girlfriend. Other than the odd occasions where she’d take a beat to focus on her own life as well as her personal career.

Said videos usually consisted of the four doing small activities that they knew the girl enjoyed. Q&A’s, because as much as she denied the accusations (she was fond of saying silly little facts about herself). Or something as simple as vlogging themselves shopping at thrift stores, a side hobby of the girls, that may have been a slight problem.

Just something to show off his gratitude and love for his girlfriend, showed the people watching that the angel was in fact, a very important piece in the scrambled puzzle of his life.

And though he loved his brothers, he couldn’t deny that one of the main reasons her got up every day, and stayed consistent with filming content, was because of the girl. He wanted to make her proud of his work, his job being the third on his lists of his best accomplishments.

𝟏－Nick & Chris

𝟐－Y/n (and how he managed to bag such a perfect, beautiful girl)

𝟑－His career

But because their content was usual tame and collected, random vlogs, that always consisted of activities that never were considered strange, Y/n immediately agreed to make an appearance in there latest video. Matt, on the other hand, inwardly cringed to himself at her lack of hesitation.

Was he lying to her? Not exactly. But was he avoiding telling her the full truth? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Small tea lights surrounded the group, as well as the blue rope that was laid out on the unstable floorboards beneath. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat whenever she heard a creak, forgetting that it was the century old flooring.

I can’t believe he talked me into this.

Because the girl was away for work for days on end, weeks- even, she didn’t hear everything about what happened back in LA in her absence. Of course they’d FaceTime as much as possible, but he as always to damn distracted, watching her.

Matt would watch her plump lips speak at a perfect pace through the camera, biting on the edge of his thumb as he wondered how amazing they’d feel against his own lips. She’s so fucking beautiful. Miss’ her so much. I wonder how it’d feel to be inside her right in this very moment.

And in result of his overwhelming thoughts of her, the reoccurring subject during these late night calls would also be her. Matt always missed her. Missed her touch, her voice, her perfect nails that would lightly scratch against his back as she lulled him to sleep at night, his head gently placed between her plush breasts.

Apparently (according to the man himself) Matt found himself missing the girl so much, that as he babbled on and on about how much he needed her, wanted her, and could practically feeling his cock being squeezed by the walls of her pussy, he might’ve forgot to mention that Nick had set up a collab with the two ghost hunters.

Y/n stared down at the illuminated rope that was weaved around the large group, flashes of blue and red intermittently sparking along the rope. An EMF cord. She was quite literally, being surrounded by hundreds of entities.

Lord please help me.

The girl flinched a bit as she felt a hand being pressed on the small of her back, immediately thinking ghost. “Woah.” Matt chuckled, looking down at the distressed girl as she blew out a soft gasp. “You alright?” The triplet tilted his head, running his hand comfortingly down her back.

Y/n’s shoulders fell with relief, silently shaking her head while simultaneously reaching out for his hand. Matt’s eyebrows drew together with worry, but didn’t hesitate before taking in her smaller, trembling one into his large hand. “Say the word and the video is scrapped.” She immediately shook her head.

“No- you’ve been looking forward for this for a while now.” Matt felt his stomach swoop with guilt, watching his beautiful girl run a distressed hand through the tendrils of her hair. “And Nick.” He rose a brow at the mention of triplet. “He hasn’t shut up about the stupid- ETES test, for weeks.” She stressed out.

Matt softly chuckled, sliding the hand that rest on her back to gently grip her waist. “I don’t care what Nick wants. The kids spoiled.” Y/n rolled her eyes at the childish remark, but felt her lips tip upward at the corners. “I care that you’re okay, baby.” His other hand cupped her cheek, soothingly running the pad of his thumb over the scar nearing the corner of her eye.

Matt watched in adoration as the girls eyelashes fluttered against her pink cheeks, batting them unintentionally as she peered up at him with that expression he could never get enough of. “I’ll be okay. I’m just being a big baby.” Y/n grumbled the last part in a soft voice, not even wanting the words to leave her mouth.

His lips fell into a smirk as he hummed, the thumb that rest against her cheek sliding down the dewy skin of her jaw and seductively smoothing over the plumpness of her bottom lip. “That’s because you are one.” Y/n’s frown deepened, as well as a redness illuminating against her cheeks.

Matt grunted at the sight, watching a stain of pink smudge against his thumb while it slid from her lips. “Cut it out.” He murmured, running his tongue along his bottom lip as he leered down at the girl with a dark expression. Y/n lifted an eyebrow, maybe with a slight attitude. “The pout.” Matt added.

Oh. The girl couldn’t help herself, a grin beaming across her pink lips as she cocked her head up at him. “And why’s that?” Y/n inquired, the false innocence apparent to the triplet, being fully aware of her games.

Matt felt his tongue twinge the inside of his cheek as he looked down at the nymph, feeling himself aching below through carpenter jeans he wore regularly. “Why?” He repeated, giving the girl a final chance to correct whatever little attitude she was about to cop.

Y/n hummed, zero hesitation as she placed a hand on his chest and drug the sharp ends of her nails along the thin fabric of his graphic tee. “Mhm..” His breath got caught in his throat as she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, before forcing them into a small pout. “Is it because you don’t like to see me sad?” Fuck it.

The girl immediately yelped as she was being tugged forward, the hand of his that once rested gently against her waist, now used as leverage to bring her closer. “Sad, huh?” Chills went up at her arms, Matt’s breath feathering against the shell of her ear as he brought her into the warmth of his body. “If you keep up that little look, you’ll see just how fuckin’ hard you being ‘sad’ gets me.” He gritted against her ear.

All the girl could do was stand there, mouth gaping as she took in his words. Swallowing the lump she felt in her throat, she flicked her gaze away. “Looking forward to it.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes.

The remark wasn’t intended for his ears, fully. A sick part in the girl wanted him to hear the snarky tone, but the other, sane half, knew it was possibly the worst time to rile the man up. And if there was one thing that Y/n knew for sure, it was that Matt wouldn’t respond positively.

And he didn’t.

She got exactly one step away from him before she felt a hand gripping her wrist, chills going up her arms at the contact. “Repeat that.” Y/n felt the racing of the triplets heart as he tugged her closer, the girls back brushing against his chest.

The girl opened and closed her mouth, scrambling for a reply, or rather a lie. “I-” She practically whined as he hummed against her neck, knowing that it was a warning. “You didn’t let me finish my sentence!” The girl rushed out, spinning around to face the boy.

He lifted a brow, urging her to continue as she fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt. “I said.. looking’ forward to doing the ETES test.” She rushed out, sending him a sheepish smile.

Matt looked at her for a solid seven seconds, before his lips broke out into a smile. He just couldn’t help it. She looked as angelic as always, the flyaway hairs framing her adorable expressionisms perfectly. Matt found himself amused by her bratty approach, and though his hand did itch to slap that beautiful ass of hers, he knew to tread lightly when she was sensitive in situations like now.

“Mhm.” He shook his head a bit, rolling his eyes as he forced the smile from his lips. “Careful, kid.” Y/n, being unable to help herself, reached up and pinched his one cheek with a soft giggle. “Saw that. You aren’t slick, buddy.” The girl teased on, still giggling at his past reaction to her brattiness.

Men were too easy.

“Stop flirting with each other and get the fuck over here, you two!”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, the momentary distraction Matt had offered her now long vanished at the sound of the youngest triplets shout. A searing light blared into the couples eye as they turned back to the group. “Jesus, Chris.” Matt hissed, using his one hand to cover his own eyes, the reaching out to guard the girls. “Put the fucking flashlight down, dummy.”

Chris being Chris, pointed at his brother and laughed, simultaneously waving the light in front of his face. “Chris,” Another voice chimed in, the black light being snatched from his hand. Nick glared as he stood aside the younger triplet, using the handle end of the flashlight to poke his side. “Stop be a fucking child.” He hissed.

Chris yelped, jumping away from the contact. “Ouchh.” All three of them, Y/n Matt and Nick, watched as the childish male hunched over while holding his side. “I’m actually burning all of your shit, Nick.” He continued to overexaggerate his pain, before abruptly reaching out to slap the eldest twin.

Matt rolled his eyes, already seeing the fight that was to break out before it even began. Wrapping two arms around her from behind, he tugged Y/n back into his chest while taking a step back from the two. Y/n stumbled backward, lips parting as she fell into the warmth of his chest with a small umph.

Her arms were comfortingly trapped beneath the boy’s tattooed ones as he leaned his head down to her ear. “You staying’ at my house tonight?” He mumbled against her jaw, the bridge of his nose brushing along her cheek as he placed a soft peck just below her ear.

She giggled at the contact, shifting a bit in his hold. “I don’t think I could even fathom sleeping alone after this.” He hummed, placing another light kiss on the area.

“After what? This, or the ghosts?” Chills went up her arms as he whispered the words against her face, the warmth of his breath grazing the curve of her jaw sensually. “Would you be shifting in bed, chills like this,” He ran his thumb along her arm, making a whimper emit from her lips. “-all up every inch of your body, because of how much you needed me? Or will it be the nightmares?” He murmured.

Y/n was basically panting as he finally ended his sentence, a bead of sweat slowly sliding down the span of her back, just between her trapezius. “… maybe a little bit of both.” She whispered softly, the words hitting Matthew’s ears like a velvety melody.

As if there were a record player in the man’s head, the vinyl that was Y/n’s voice played on repeat in his mind, resulting in the desperate aching sensation he felt growing in his jeans. “Fuck.” Matt cursed himself, momentarily looking heavenward.

“Who’s ready for the test?”

All heads turn at the sound of a voice that may have been a touch too enthusiastic for the current events. The two friends, Sam and Colby standing side by side, both grinning ear to ear. Y/n shook her head incredulously. Who was I to judge their weird little hobbies.

Nicks hand flew up, making the girl giggle softly. “I’m so fucking ready.” Chris nodded in agreement, both boys having already decided they’d go first for the test. Matt was hesitant at the beginning, not because he was scared, but because he didn’t want to say anything that may have freaked the girl out.

His upmost priority was keeping her calm, and so far his attempts hadn’t failed. “What about you two?” Colby pointed his index fringe in between the couple, lifting a brow. Matt slowly looked down, seeing the girls face absolutely terrified.

She was quite literally froze with fear, gaping at the dark haired male with wide eyes. “Like-now?” Y/n stumbled with her words, hands wringing together anxiously.

Colby nodded nonchalantly. “After these two, yeah.” He mumbled, fumbling with the camera before flicking his gaze back to the girl. “Only if you feel comfortable with it.” The male added quickly, noticing the slight warning look Matt was throwing his way.

The girl averted her gaze downward, her breathing having picked up rapidly in pace. She couldn’t- she wouldn’t. Matt suddenly adjusted the gentle hold he had on her, nudging around so she faced him. “Hey,” She shook her head. “Look at me.” Matt reached out, tipping her chin upward.

Y/n blinked up at the blue eyed boy, fighting back the tears of frustration as she gazed up at him. “I really don’t want to.” He immediately nodded, using his thumb to effortlessly brush away the one lone tear that had fallen. “And you don’t have to, yeah?” She sniffed a bit, shutting her eyes for a brief pause.

She was that friend.

She felt like one of those kids who dipped their feet in the pool instead of swimming because they couldn’t. “… I’ll do it if you do it with me.” She blurted out, her hands balling into fists.

Matt’s eyes widened at his girlfriend’s sudden change in attitude. “You want to do it?” She nodded, making the triplets face churn with even more confusion. “You- you want to do the ETES test? Talk to ghosts-” The more he went on, the more frightened she became, but he couldn’t help it.

What the fuck had gotten into his girlfriend?

Y/n groaned and softly shoved his chest. “Stop talking about it!” She whispered hissed, making him immediately halt his ranting. Matt blew out a breath, scratching the back of his head as he looked down at the girl. “Okay.” He nodded.

Her eyebrows flew up. “Just ‘okay’? Not, ‘okay I’ll do it with you’ or oka-” She was cut off from her rambling as set of lips were placed against hers, immediately resulting in her emitting a soft. She felt her entire body drop as the weight fell from her shoulders, Matt’s perfectly soft lips moulding against hers passionately.

The triplet let his eyes lull shut as he pressed himself closer into the girls body, both hands cupping her flushed cheeks as he smiled into the kiss. “Yes,” The boy muttered into between kisses. “I’ll do it with you, baby.” He chuckled, placing soft pecks around her mouth and jaw.

The girls nose scrunched at the ticklish sensation, giggling as she pushed her hands against the triplet’s chests. “Matt!” She exclaimed in an undertone, still laughing as she attempted to shove him away. “Cut it out.” The male shook his head, lightly nipping at her cheek.

“Can’t help it.” His speech came out slurred with his lips pressed against the soft skin of her cheek. “You look so fucking good with in this jacket- and that fuckin’ top.” Matt practically whined against her jaw, thumbing over the opening of her cropped shirt.

Maybe ghosts weren’t too scary …

✰-

“Holy fuck, man.”

Chris practically trampled through the closest door, slamming the door on Nicks face as he tore the merlot fabric from his eyes. “Those ghosts almost talk more than Nick.” He snickered, wincing as Nick pinched his side. “Kidding.” He grumbled.

Y/n watched as the door creaked open, the dusty sofa sitting inside awaiting the couple. I can’t believe I was doing this. Matt held both pieces of red fabric, feeling himself even slightly uneasy as he looked in the meekly lit room.

Dread. The girl was dreading the second her bottom landed on the leather sofa, and she was just about prepared to do anything to prolong it. Y/n felt her palms dampen with sweat, her hand twitching at the urge to reach out and grip Matt’s sleeve.

He’s right beside me- I’ll be fine.

The triplet beat her to it though, seeing her overwhelmed state as she shrunk into her own body, prompting him to reach out and grab her trembling hand. Her head snapped in his direction, finding the males eyes already on hers. “Good?” He asked, raising a brow.

Butterflies pressed against her stomach as her dilated pupils gazed into his blue eyes, feeling the world around her spin at the look that illuminated from his eyes. How could one look hold so much … love?

She blinked twice, shaking herself from whatever trance she was in. “Yes- yeah.” The girl uttered, looking down at their intertwined hands as she fiddled with the ring woven around his index finger. “Are you?” She murmured.

The corners of Matt’s mouth turned up at the inquiry. “Yeah.. m’fine doll.” Seeing her meek nod, he softly chuckled. “Are you sure?”

Y/n nipped at her bottom lip, flicking her eyes back up to the triplet’s. “Mhm.” At her nod, Matt offered one of his own.

It was on the tip of her tongue, she just had to say the word and he’d happily lift the girl into his arms, and walk out of the dump of house. The content mine as well have been nothing to him if his girl wasn’t okay the entire time.

“Here,” The male mumbled, the girl freezing with confusion. “Turn around for me sweetheart.” Her lips formed an ‘O’, and she turned her back to him. Matt carefully brushed away the few strands of hair that framed her face, making sure that none of them got caught as he gently tied the red fabric over her eyes.

Y/n sucked in a breath, her vision going black as she dug her nails into the flesh of her palms. “Atta’ girl.” She heard him murmur by her ear, before her nose crinkled as he pressed a harsh kiss on the side of her head.

“Matt.” She hushed, chuckling as she dodged his wandering touch. The tips of his fingers thumbed against the fabric, double checking that she in fact, could not see.

Something sinister ignited in the triplet as soon as her ability of seeing was enabled, a smirk cursing his lips. Touch would be so … sensational. She’d never know where his hand would glide off to next. Feeling her breath get caught in her throat, Y/n froze as she felt Matt brush his hand against bare skin of her abdomen. “Matt?” She whispered softly.

…

The girl was met with silence, resulting in a wave of confusion rolling over her body. Along with a spark set off in her core as she felt that same hand began to toy with the button of her jean shorts. A breath was sucked in as headphones were placed atop her head, the muffled sound of her own heart becoming the only thing she could hear.

Boom boom boom

The muffled sound of people talking was drowned out as the girls heart beat through her ears, Matthew’s feathering touch grazing her lower stomach. The boy bit down on his bottom lip as he watched his own fingers just barley pop the button her shorts open, the heat igniting within his body killing him.

God I need her.

Anger consumed his mood as he managed to pry his touch from the girls soft skin, knowing that the group was waiting for him to get on with the damn test. Jaw clenching as he snuggly knotted the fabric over his eyes, now unable to see the unworldly woman right in front of him.

“You guys all set?” Sam exclaimed, his voice coming off far too enthusiastic. Matt nodded stiffly, as did the girl.

Matt guided his hand lower, gently wrapping his larger one around the girls. “Feel for the door, hm?” He breathed against her ear, keeping his body close to hers as they walk forward. Y/n sucked in a breath, feeling the obvious hardness that pressed into her backside. “Kay’.” She murmured.

The triplet felt his lips tip up, rubbing the pad of this thumb against her wrist as they continued to move close to the door. Both of their steps came to a halt as Y/n’s hand brushed the corner of the door, using her hand to shove it open so they could enter. “Good luck you two!” Colby yelled, chuckling as he said something to the camera afterwards.

Good luck indeed.

A cold chill ran up the girls back, blowing out a breath as kept the urge to wrap her arms around herself. “It’s so cold.” She mumbled, her own voice muffled to the triplets ears. The room was pitch black other than the few tea candles, not that either parties would know due to the bonding around their eyes.

Unexpectedly, the feeling of dread that she assumed would stem from hearing ghosts, wasn’t what had her shaking. It was the overwhelming presence of her boyfriend, she could practically feel him breathing down her neck from several steps away.

But how could he help it? Matt leaned back against the wall, heart pattering painfully as he reached down to palm the raging erection that was now prominent through his pants. Fuck- how was I supposed to focus on ghosts when I was this fucked up? His head tipped against the hard brick wall, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he resisted the urge to fist his cock.

The room was freezing, sending the hairs on his arms straight up as he fought his inner turmoil. Fuck it. Within seconds he was ripping the headset from his head, the thin fabric covering his eyes flowing to the floor immediately after.

Y/n stood in the same place as before, nipping at the skin around her thumb as she awaited .. anything. A whisper, a random breeze, words, anything that indicated something paranormal. Minutes after minutes went by, before she sucked in an abrupt breath.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt a gust of air graze from behind her, before vanishing within mere seconds. It was as if a spider had crawled past her, the fight or flight instincts fully in activation. That was before a low voice was spoken through the speaker of the headphones, making her flinch.

Behind you.

Y/n froze in fear, shaking violently as she fought back tears. “Matt?” Her voice came out wobbly, cracking nearing the end of her sentence. Even if he had replied, she wouldn’t have been able to hear due to the headphones.

Matt watched as the girl froze, lips curving into a smirk as he stalked forward. His poor baby, he cooed to himself, finally using his one hand to girl the side of her waist from behind. “Shh..” He quieted the timid girl as she lurched forward, obviously not expecting the touch.

Y/n felt her shoulders tense, her blood running cold as a hand squeezed her waist. It was Matt- it had to be. The sane part of her knew it was him, but the other told her it was an entity. This fear only multiplied by ten as another hand reached out from behind her, slim fingers dragging across her trachea.

Matt bit down on his lip as he felt the girls body shake against his, his fingers fiddling with the locket around her neck. He couldn’t help but reminisce the memories of the night he’d gifted to her, the events feeling oddly recent. It was their two year anniversary, and also the week before her birthday.

He wanted the girl to feel special, for her to know that she was everything he could ever dream for. It was a small butterfly locket that embroidered her birthstone right in the middle, the jewel glimmering against her untainted skin during any given moment of the day.

He quickly came to realize his love the necklace that same night. As the girl straddled his lap in the seat of his car, the small charm dangling down against his neck as she tightened herself around his cock, riding him like her life depended on it.

She practically went limp in his lap, her chest falling against his as she breathlessly moaned next to his ear. He locked away the lewd sounds in the back of his brain, seeing as it was odd that she was overly expressive in bed. He always knew she felt good as her hands gripped the sheets, or went he felt his dick being practically suffocated by the walls of her pussy as she clamped around him.

Matt let the thoughts cloud his mind, the desperation of needing her becoming overwhelming. “Fuck.” He whispered to himself, the hand that brushed against her neck flattening against the surface, entrapping the sides of her neck in his strong hand.

Almost immediately after, a whimper came from the girls lips. “Matt?” Yes. He wanted to say it so fucking bad. Hold the girl to his chest as he assured her it was him who had gotten ahold of her. But something.. portentous came over him.

The triplet felt the girls pulse thrum in his hold, a sadistic feeling setting in his heart. Something told him to slam her against the side of the wall, to fill her up so good with his cock, proving that he was the only person capable of making her feel so good, her eyes rolling back into her skull as she realized it was him.

He blew out a breath, shakily removing the headphones from atop her head, tossing them off to the couch. “Baby..” Y/n’s shoulders fell with relief, breathing out a deep sigh as she recognized the voice to be her boyfriends. Though, at the exact moment of relief, her stomach tightened at the tone of voice she knew all too well.

The same husky octave his voice dropped to whenever he got himself worked up, slowly drifting off into a whiny one as he begged to be inside her. “Stop fucking with me, Matt.” The girl finally managed to hiss out, shifting in his hold.

He groaned as her ass dug into the tent in his jeans, still fighting against his hold. “Cut it out.” He snapped, squeezing the outside of her neck lightly, the gesture a clear warning. Y/n rolled her eyes, anger consuming her.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Matt chuckled a bit, hearing the whine in her voice as she spoke. “You know I’m not good with all of this, be gentle.” She murmured.

His heart swooped a bit as he hummed, placing a peck on the back of her head. “Gentle, hm?” The girl bobbed her head, still experiencing the aftershocks of the momentary fear she’d experienced. “I’ll be so fuckin’ gentle with you, doll.” He whispered against the shell of her ears, making her shiver.

Her hand instinctively reached around to unbind the tie around her eyes, the motion being halted as a larger one caught her hand. “Leave it.” Matt muttered, the girl slowly lowering her hand to her side as she hearted the warning in his tone.

What the fuck had gotten into him?

The hand that was on her waist slowly trailed down her side, sensually grazing her hip dip before his fingers began to toy with her shorts button. “These are adorable, baby.” Matt murmured as he looked down at his own movements, feeling lost in his own thoughts.

He’d been thinking it all night. The girl looked too fuckable. Even if it wasn’t purposeful, her every move had the triplet leaning on a wall as he begged his body to not react the ways it begged for. Sam had even stopped him at one point during the night, placing a hand in his shoulders as he gave his friend a look of concern.

“You alright man?” He’d inquiry.

Matt could only offer a dry nod as he leaned off of the wall, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he did his best to adjust his raging hard on without the rest of the group noticing.

Y/n’s breath hitched as the ends of two of the males fingers slowly dipped down the hem of her shorts, the material scraping against her thighs that were painfully clamped together, her body now reaching to much more sensitively with his touch. “Matt,” The girl whispered. “Your brothers are literally right outside.” She hissed.

He hummed, chuckling as he heard the girl whimper when she felt his fingers scrape along the lace of her undergarment. “Guess you’ll have to be quiet then, huh?” Much to her dismay, Matt’s hand withdrew itself from her small shorts.

A sense of relief filled her simultaneously, knowing that she wouldn’t have to force herself to stay silent if he really had decided to go further, but with that came the frustration end. Matt had been fucking with her all night, nothing short of grabbing her ass whenever she bent over to arranged the EMF cord, or whispering sinful things into her ear.

Shocked, a yelp escaped her mouth as she was suddenly being lifted from her feet, two hands snuggly wrapped around her lower waist from behind. “What-” She cut herself off, jaw going ajar as Matt spun her around, the two hands slipping down and cupping the undersides of her thighs. “What’re doing?!” She whispered.

The look of absolute horror on her face made Matt’s eyes twinkle with love, being completely immersed in her every expression. “Giving the ghosts a show.” He whispered, a smile creeping on his lips as he watched her pupils dilate.

She felt her back press against the cold stone wall, her oversized leather jacket scraping against the rock as he adjusted her body against the surface. The girls legs instinctively wrapped themselves around the males sides, her bottom landing on his thigh as he pressed knee against the wall as a makeshift seat.

“Like’ my pretty little trophy.” She felt the blindfold feather down from her eyes, gazing down at him with a heavy stare as he inhaled deeply, chest heaving. Both of his hands rested on her hips, molding around the area as he guided her lower half closer.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, fighting back the moan that threatened to bubble up as her core ignited with a burst of arousal, the hardness of his thigh pressing into her heat. “Fuck- Matt.” She gasped out, sending him a glare.

His blue eyes flicked up to hers, a smirk crossing his plump, a small pop sound registering in the girls ear as she looked down. Matt effortlessly undid the button of her shorts, following the action with tugging the denim down her smooth thighs. “Say the word.” Matt’s tongue twinge the inside of his cheek as he pulled the shorts down her thighs, stopping mid way to look up into her eyes.

He waited, and waited, just for her to tell him to stop. But he was met with silence. That was until two hands were gripping the neckline of the triplets shirt, pulling him closer into the warmth of her body. “Just- do something.” She finally managed out, a whine drawing out at the end of her plea.

Matthew immediately began to slip her bottoms off, chuckling huskily as he shook his head. “Such a little brat.” She leaned her weight on the surface of his muscular thigh, lifting her hips for easier access as Matt tugged the denim the rest of the way down, the shorts slipping down and hooking around her one ankle.

The male didn’t move with haste, taking his sweet time to lower himself to his knees, carefully lifting and placing the girls legs around his broad shoulders. Matt’s hands softly pry her thighs apart, littering small pecks to the inside of the dewy skin as he made his way through her two plush thighs.

One touch, one little graze of his lips against the lace of her faded pink underwear was all it took for her thighs to clamp around his head. With hooded eyes, he flicked his gaze up to the unknowing girl. “Baby,” Her head snapped down as she heard him tut, catching the look of his face. “Open your damn legs.” He muttered, hardening his gaze.

He didn’t have ask twice. “Atta’ girl.” He praised as her thighs parted, leaving the perfect amount of space for his head to slip between. Y/n assumed that the demand was finally going to result in her being touched. But much to her dismay, he continued to taunt her.

Whimpering as he nipped at her thigh, right next to where she needed him, she reached down and threaded a hand through his tousled hair. “Don’t give me that half assed shit.’ She whined, gritting her teeth a bit as the sexual frustration grew.

“Yes ma’am.” He joked, his fingertips teasing the hem lace of her underwear.

He leisurely slid the itchy material down her thighs, biting down on his bottom lip as he caught sight of her glistening core. “All for me. huh, baby?” Y/n nodded with a small hum, chest heaving as she peered down at him, Matt’s perfect lips pursing as he blew a cold stream of air onto the sensitive skin of her pussy.

“Matt.” His one hand that gripped the underside of her thigh lightly squeezed the area. “I know baby, I know.” He murmured. Within seconds the frustration she felt had passed, as Matt’s lips began moving against her lower ones. “Fuck.” She moaned breathily, her head falling back against the wall.

His tongue slipped between her slick folds, harshly lapping at her core as if he was savouring every inch of her. “So fuckin’ good.” He moaned softly against her.

Her eyes that had lulled shut with pleasure, slowly pulled open at the sound of Matt’s small whisper. “Huh?” She reached her hand down, running her fingers through his brunette hair before gently tugging his head up.

“What’d you say?” Y/n patted his cheek lightly, trying to snap him out of whatever hazy high he’d put himself in. As more wetness trickled down the insides of her thighs, Matt’s eyes had visibly blurred over, pupils dilated as he looked up at his girlfriend with need. “S’just so good.” The boy panted out.

Eyebrows knitting together, and lips parting as she went to reply. “Jesus!” It was replaced with a choked moan, her head thrown back in pleasure while Matt’s tongue reconnected with her heat, dragging a long stripe up her core. He felt her pulse against his tastebuds, locking the sounds she made every time he’d nudge her clit.

The triplet’s mind was utterly corrupted by the girl. Y/n this, Y/n that, god Y/n tasted so good, I wonder what Y/n would feel like- his thought process was entirely fucked. Leading to the current, the tip of his nose grazing her clit as he buried his face into her throbbing pussy. “Fuck.” He moaned with a slight slur, both hands down gripping each sides of her thighs.

Y/n’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth ajar as she wondered what had gotten into her once tame and collected boyfriend. “Matt,” She’d whimper out every few seconds, the light melodic rhythm of her voice going completely deaf to the man’s ears, as he desperately lapped at her sopping heat.

It was only until he felt the girls thighs begin to clamp around his head that he was brought from his foggy mindset, hooded eyes dragging up to the breathless girl while removing his mouth from her pulsing core. “sweetheart,” he panted, running his ring clad hand down his jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, I fuckin’ love it,” He chuckled, making her roll her eyes with a small whimper.

“But I can’t really fuck you with my tongue, if you’re doing that.” She blew out a small sound of confusion, before spotting the pink area or skin behind his both ears, his diamond studs having pressed down against the skin whenever she’d clamp her thighs around his ears. “Can I?” He mumbled, lifting a brow.

She nodded pitifully, gripping his hair in her small hand ushering his face back to her drenched core. “Mhm.” Matt huffed out a sound of amusement, but like the gentleman he was, continued to guide the girl to her release. “Yess.” The hand in his hair gripped the tendrils harshly, pulling him closer into her as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of need.

He couldn’t help but glide his own hand downward, lightly palming over the obvious tent in his jeans. Matt neglected his aching cock for the extended period of time, ever since he saw her in that sexy little get up. Or when she’d accidentally brush her ass against his dick when she flailed backward into his body when frightened.

It wasn’t because he hadn’t felt the need to though. Not at all. In fact, he’d fought and resisted the temptation of slipping his hand into his jeans, fisting the aching hard on he sported just by the mere sight of Y/n. Or to grab the girl, nudge her into a random haunted room, and to slam his cock into her the second he tugged the denim shorts down her thighs.

Then there was her.

Matt was simply content with mind-fucking the girl, taunting and teasing her throughout the sinister night. Her every tantalizing move alluring him further, making his eyes gleam with a darkness that begged to be released with a quick fuck.

And because it was an escape, a distraction, she didn’t mind. “Gonna’ cum.” Y/n gasped out, feeling his lips pepper wet pecks all around her beating heat, groaning as he placed a final one directly over her dripping core.

The girls hips moved against his working lips as she felt the ball in her abdomen begin to unravel, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth opened in a silent moan. Matt’s eyes slid up to her as she came, lips quirking up as he watched her shatter in his hands.

Back arching as she pushed her dripping pussy closer to his lips as he lapped up her release, the familiar taste touching his tongue with an addictive undertone. He couldn’t get enough, fighting the urge of his eyes rolling back as his hands roamed every inch of her soft skin.

Y/n whimpered softly, watching the magnifying boy place two last kisses on the inside of either thigh’s. “sorry.” She whispered, making Matt’s eyebrows raise with surprise. “Sorry? Sorry for what, baby?” He laughed a bit, running the back of his hand across his damp lips.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, turning her head away. “I don’t even know- it’s just embarrassing.” Matt scoffed, dragging her underwear and shorts up her thighs while raising from his haunches.

“Nothing you could ever say or do, would be ‘embarrassing’.” He said firmly, pulling her shorts over her supple ass. “always’ my perfect girl.” He murmured, pressing his index and middle finger into her cheek, tilting her hed his way again.

The girl blushed, nipping at her bottom lip as she shifted foot to foot. “Do you want me to..” she trailed off, nodding toward the tent in his pants. Matt rolled his eyes, running the hand down her hair as he pulled her closer. “So bad it fuckin’ aches for you.” He grunted.

She immediately reached down to tug at the button, her hand being caught by a larger one. “hey,” Matt chuckled, making her flick her gaze up to his. “I thought-” She squealed, taken aback as his lips pressed onto hers.

The hand atop her soft hair drifted down to cup the side of her neck, Matthew’s thumb rubbing back and forth across her steadily beating pulse. “but,” He whispered. “I would much rather have this little mouth,” He muttered in between kisses. “on my cock after I’ve gotten you all warm. Bathed, fed, and in some comfortable clothes.” he chuckled, his other thumb running along the underside of her bottom lip.

There noses brushed each others even after they pulled away, Matt looking to be pondering as he looked off. “Hm..” She rose a brow, a grin spreading cross her raw lips. “Preferably something of mine.” He said, flicking his gaze back to hers.

Y/n’s eyebrows rose, tilting her head aside as he smiled up at her boyfriend. “Yours, huh?” She mused, her grin growing at his firm nod. “What about that white fresh love-” She yelped as a hand collided with the skin of her thigh, winching as he rubbed over the now pink skin.

“Always a brat.” He murmured, a smirk growing on his lips as he watched her thighs squeeze together at the action. Little masochist. “Maybe the bath and change of clothes can wait..” Her eyes lit up, opening her mouth to retort brattily.

Bang!

“Holy fuck!” Y/n cried, gripping onto her boyfriend’s arm as a ringing noise echoed through the void room. Matt went still, but managed to breathily laugh while patting the girls head. “Kid- you’re fine-” He attempted to assure, but flinched and cursed himself when he heard glass shatter. “Jesus.” He muttered, eyes wide as he snapped his head behind him.

The door flew open, the silhouette of four men standing in the door way. “I’m dead- I’m dying tonight-” she rambled, shaking her head rapidly as she gripped onto Matt’s muscular forearm. Matt laughed through the fright, faltering from his stance above her. “No you’re not, doll.” He chuckled.

“Ouch!”

Matt winced, pulling his forearm away from the girl. “You pinched me.” He sounded betrayed, cradling his tattooed arm to his chest as he looked down at his fearful girlfriend.

“It’s because I love you.” She whined, a small cry at the end of her sentence as she heard a door creak. “And I’m sorry I never got to go down-”

“Boo!”

The couple screamed, Y/n throwing herself into Matt’s arms. Sam and Colby stood side by side, the blonde grinning ear to ear as he held up the medium sized camera. He looked enthralled, whereas the two looked petrified. “How’d it go?!” Nick, who stood not behind joyed.

Y/n’s shoulders fell seeing the friend she knew and trusted, but ran a hand down her face as it fell back on the wall. “Oh my god.” Matt threw his brothers a glare, hands trembling ever so slightly. “You scared the shit out of me, guys.” Y/n laughed.

Sam and Colby brought the camera a little closer, the couple squinting from the light. “How was it? Hear anything ghostly.” Colby mused, laughing a bit.

Matt and Y/n looked at each other, eyes wide. “Uh..” The girl snapped her head in the direction of the friends, rushing to find some kind of excuse- or lie. “Glass!” She exclaimed, making the group of four all look toward each other in confusion.

Matt felt himself confused as well. “Ow!” Y/n sent him a warning glance, slapping his shoulder. “Oh fuck- yeah, that.” Matt looked back at Colby. “Glass.. broke?” He said, looking back at his girlfriend for reassurance. She nodded in alliance. “Yep. Loud.” Matt nodded along.

Suddenly the couples current position registered to each other, as well as their friends. “So..” Y/n mumbled, lips drawing into a line as she slid down the wall and out from her boyfriend’s body. “Yep, it was very spooky.” Patting his chest once, Matt looked down at his girlfriend with a toothy smile.

God she was cute.

Nick made an expression of realization, face scrunching up as he faux gagged. “Geez, guys.” He groaned, rolling his eyes as he saw the discarded headsets and blindfolds. “That was me.” Matt and Y/n looked at each other, before looking back at the eldest triplet.

“.. I tripped over a lantern, okay?!” He confessed, a blush spreading across his cheeks from both embarrassed and having been exposed to whatever rendezvous his brother and girlfriend were having. “And I heard screaming, that definitely wasn’t out of fear- longgg before I did that-” He attempted to deflect.

Chris immediately cut him off. “Nick-nick. Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, nudging his side.

“Okay!” Sam interrupted, cheeks slightly red as he looked around at the group. “We’ve been filming for over two hours, which is more than enough. Anyone wanna’ catch dinner?” He put his hands together, grinning sheepishly.

Me and Matt stayed silent, Chris’s and Nick’s hands flying up simultaneously. “Me.” They both say, voice overlapping each others.

“Great!” Sam exclaimed, sending a quick smile our way.

As the group dispersed the room, Matt slowly let his head fall against Y/n’s chest, letting out a small whine. “Holy shit.” His voice came out muffled, lips mushed against her goosebump-ridden chest.

She patted his head a few times. “I know. I know.” Oh god, did she know.

୨ৎ 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 －

@tvdelrey @luverboychris

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #writers on tumblr #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #smut #fluff #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

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sparrowlucero · 18 days

Note

So what do we think Beebe's fish were then? I heard tell that the sailfin might have been a squid and that the angelfish was probably a comb jelly, but what about the giant dragonfish or the rainbow gar?

For those not in the know, in the 1930s, biologist William Beebe (who you (read: I) might know as the guy who predicted microraptor) and engineer Otis Barton (hollywood actor?? and designer of fucked up submarines and "jungle spaceships", ok otis) got into a fucked up submarine and went to the bottom of the ocean off the coast of bermuda (in what, iirc, was the first study of deep sea fish in their natural habitat), where he described several fish unknown to science. None of these fish have been identified since. (Side Note: to continue off of "audubon was unfamiliar with the bald eagle" in my last post, this one also has a theory I find a bit silly in "perhaps they just hallucinated fake fish from oxygen deprivation" despite both witnessing the same fish and a lot of his scary book about the dive that you can read here including many lucid observations of known species. It wasn't like he got down there and only saw weird fish and nothing else) The fish in order: Three-starred anglerfish, Abyssal Rainbow Gar, Pallid sailfin, Five-lined Constellation Fish

and yeah I do see why people think these might have been invertebrates mistakenly identified as fish. In his book, Beebe holds off on describing unfamiliar fish if he didn't see them well, but, you know, those little gars really do look like squid. I personally think the most likely one to be a real fish is the angler, since he saw it closely and was able to note several physiological differences in jaw structure that distinguished it from other angler fish.

The most notable one is the "Untouchable Bathysphere Fish", a giant 6 foot long dragonfish (largest known dragonfish is about 2 feet long):

Several minutes later, at 2100 feet, I had the most exciting experience of the whole dive. Two fish went very slowly by, not more than six or eight feet away, each of which was at least six feet in length. They were of the general shape of large barracudas, but with shorter jaws which were kept wide open all the time I watched them. A single line of strong lights, pale bluish, was strung down the body. The usual second line was quite absent. The eyes were very large, even for the great length of the fish. The undershot jaw was armed with numerous fangs which were illumined either by mucus or indirect internal lights. Vertical fins well back were one of the characters which placed it among the sea-dragons, Melanostomiatids, and were clearly seen when the fish passed through the beam. There were two long tentacles, hanging down from the body, each tipped with a pair of separate, luminous bodies, the upper reddish, the lower one blue. These twitched and jerked along beneath the fish, one undoubtedly arising from the chin, and the other far back near the tail. I could see neither the stem of the tentacles nor any paired fins, although both were certainly present. This is the fish I subsequently named Bathysphera intacta, the Untouchable Bathysphere Fish.

I believe this solely because it's really cool Though I want posit a theory I've never heard before: it's almost never remarked upon that he discovered these weird fish over a live (now lost media that no one is searching for, get on that) NBC radio broadcast. Maybe he just made up some cool sea monsters with a big climactic sea serpent for said broadcast, both because I would totally do that if it were me and also so he had a good excuse to sign off and get the fuck out of this situation:

#i looked through so many write ups about these fish and like none of them mentioned the live broadcast aspect #unless I'm totally misunderstanding his book it seems that they were live when he saw the fish

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year

Text

FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you.

The sixth.

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect.

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out. As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible.

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur.

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this?

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it.

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor.

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often.

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone.

But that’s not the issue right now.

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.”

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter.

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words.

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara."

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince.

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him.

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor.

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts.

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

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sunflower-lilac42 · 2 months

Text

𝟲𝟬𝟯 ; 𝘭𝘩43 ୨୧

➪ summary: luke's main goal is to make sure y/n is taken care of, however it's hard for him to do it 603 miles away

➪ warnings: reader overworks herself, school, stress

➪ word count: 2.5k

➪ file type: fic - reupload

➪ sunny's notes: i’ve been in a like mood so i decided to get this one out tonight!! ill post a connor blurb tomorrow morning/afternoon and a nico fic tomorrow. more of a schedule release tomorrow probably for the next two weeks

lh43 masterlist || nhl masterlist || new taglist || navigation

She expected this to happen, the pounding in her head, the 20 tabs open on her computer, the dozens of resource articles and research strewn about in her room, the five packets of review guides sitting in a stack on her desk, the half drank cup of coffee, and the tears springing in her eyes. The white noise coming from her earbuds was starting to bother her causing her to rip them out of her ears and throw them somewhere where she probably wouldn’t be able to find them again.

She could hear voices in the living room, just outside her closed bedroom door. They were laughing about something, what it was she had no idea. Her three roommates all had presentations tomorrow and that was it, no more studying, no more writing, they were done. She, however, still had three papers to write and two exams to take. She had regretted her decision to take this many classes this semester but she was preparing herself for her future.

She had gone to stand up, feeling dizzy immediately as her feet planted flat on the floor. She held a hand to the wall, bracing herself from toppling over. She blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurry sight of tears, dehydration, and lack of nutrition. She knew people would be worried about her if they were to see her like this, her hair matted and pulled into a bun as best as she could, and mascara dried on her face that highlighted the dark circles and bags under her eyes. She was wearing Luke’s sweatshirt, the Devils logo plastered over it in the center, mocking her, reminding her that her boyfriend was 603 miles away from her.

At the thought, she allowed herself to tear up more, letting tear after tear fall. There wasn’t much she could do, he was in the middle of a game right now. When she realized he had a game, she turned it on and watched with a soft smile whenever he would show up on the TV. Despite knowing the fact that he would not answer his phone, she called him, hoping to just hear his voice through his voicemail.

When his voice reached her ears, she could feel some of the tension release from her body. However, the feeling was short-lived as the beep from the end of his voicemail was heard. She didn’t leave a message, she just hung up and watched the remainder of the second period. When the horn blarred in the arena and through the tv speakers, she shut off the screen and returned to work, making her head hurt more.

She didn’t notice the multiple attempts Luke had made to call her, her phone having died 20 minutes prior when she was writing her essay. Her headphones laid atop her earbuds, trying to create a total noise blocker from her apartment’s noises. She had been ripping off post-it notes after post-it notes, scrambling to write down as many ideas as her brain could process.

Meanwhile, Luke had been minorly, no majorly, freaking out. She would never call him if he was at a game, not even if it was super important. He could feel himself start to sweat again as he rushed to put his suit jacket on, wiggling his feet into his shoes. He had gone home by himself, not feeling the need to celebrate when his girl could be suffocating 603 miles away from him.

Ever since they’ve known each other, Luke has known about y/n’s tendencies to throw herself into her school work. He remembers the first time he saw her during exam season. It was the end of their freshman fall term, they had been dating for four months at the time. They had just gotten back from their games in Ohio, he was exhausted from the trip and their 6-1 loss following their win the previous day. All he had wanted to do was go over to her dorm and lay in bed with her.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

He knocked on the door, waiting for an answer but nothing came. He felt saddened and knocked again. He received the same answer, none. He turned around and slid down the wood door, hitting the ground with a thud. He put his hands on his head as he waited, kicking his bag to the side. It was only then he heard the footsteps come rushing down the hallway and looked up to see her. She had her backpack that looked as if it weighed 10 pounds, she was clutching five books in her arms and a coffee cup rested on top of them. She had been mumbling when she noticed him and her eyes lit up, “Hi!”

“Hi pretty girl, whatcha doing?”

“Studying.”

He looked at the way her eyes were hidden by the circles underneath them and frowned. He reached out to grab the books from her grasp and she gratefully accepted the offer, going straight to dig the keys out of her bag, “How were the games? Did you guys win?”

He felt heartbroken and confused, she always watched his games when they went away. She would always be the one to point out his goal or an assist that he got, sometimes she even pointed out if Dylan, Mackie, Ethan, or even Owen got a goal. He watched as she pushed the door open, removing her hand from her side to run it through her hair, “You didn’t watch?”

She turned to him, dropping her bag on the ground and reaching out for her books, “No, I was studying. Sorry, Lu.”

Studying? At that time? He did nothing but let her take the books, watching as she started to clean up her dorm. It was only then that he had noticed the state her dorm was in. There were empty boxes scattering the floor, paper plates and bowls on any surface possible, and some of her clothes were mixed in with her roommate’s, it was a mess, to say the least. He made no effort to say anything about it, though.

She cleaned as much as she could in a matter of five minutes, looking at him with a small smile on her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t watch. I was going to watch the highlights when I got back tonight.”

“Back from?”

“Library. I think I’m starting to become a regular for everyone who works there.”

The thought of her being a regular was somewhat concerning to him, “How often have you been going?”

His voice was a mixture of stern and worried, his eyes somewhat squinted in a glare. She looked as if she had committed a crime at the tone of his voice, “Every day… from the time class was over until they closed.”

His eyes widened, “Jesus y/n.”

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to study. I need to do well.”

“I understand that but you can’t work yourself to the brink of death.” He grabbed the coffee out of her hand and emptied it into the sink, getting rid of the cup afterward.

She whined at the motion, watching him in horror as if he just hit a bird with his car. He walked back over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, “Tomorrow you are not going to touch a single book, I won’t even let you touch your computer.”

“But-”

“Nuh-uh, nope. No computer, no books, no papers, no anything school-related. We are going to stay in your bed and watch movies all day and eat properly.”

“I eat properly!” She exclaimed in offense.

He gave her a look that said all the different, “Sure. Now I can only hope you still have some of my clothes here somewhere because I do not want to talk to my dorm right now.”

She pointed in embarrassment to one of her drawers, “In there.”

He kissed her forehead and grabbed the clothes before heading for the bathroom, “I’ll be back and I better not see you do any work when I get back.”

She nodded but as soon as he left she ran to her backpack and grabbed her computer. She rushed to finish the last two paragraphs of her essay before he got back but luck was not on her side as she was halfway through her last paragraph and the doorknob turned. She had been so focused on writing that she didn’t care that he entered, “Just let me finish my last paragraph.”

He sighed, dropping his clothes into her laundry basket. He walked back to her bed and looked at her, “Last paragraph?”

“Mhm.” She nodded and scooted over so Luke could sit next to her, “Fine. I don’t want you to lose your train of thought.”

She beamed up at him and kissed his cheek before returning to her work.

ू ₒ ु ୨୧ ू ₒ ु

Ever since then, he had been careful with how much he left her alone in exam season. He always called on road trips, always went to the library with her to make sure she didn’t overwork herself, always made sure she was eating properly, and always made sure that she was okay. But now being 603 miles it was hard to do that for her.

Luke was packing a bag as fast as he could, looking at his laptop for the earliest flight out of there which wasn’t until early the next morning, leaving at 7 and not arriving until 9. Then he would have to wait to get a car and do a 30-minute drive to Ann Arbor. He groaned at the time and went to throw something, at that point he could drive there and be there before getting a plane but he was in no state to drive.

He continued to try and call her for 30 minutes, on the brink of giving up at that point. Her phone was still dead and she had yet to realize it. She had music playing through her earbuds attached to her computer, typing about something that she considered stupid and unnecessary. She only took breaks to take a sip of coffee or to groan and throw her head back in exhaustion and frustration.

Luke threw his phone on the bed, running his hands down his face, falling asleep not even five minutes later. Y/n was the same way, she closed her laptop as she finished her last sentence, finally allowing herself to take a break. She got up to go make a burrito in the kitchen, waving to her friends who were also still awake at the time.

She went to turn her phone on and that was when she realized the lack of battery it had. She shrugged it off and put it down on her nightstand before walking back out to eat and finish watching the movie with her roommates.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

She didn’t go to bed until almost three in the morning despite finishing the movie four hours ago. Once they finished, she looked at the piles of paper and study guides she still had to do and sighed. Deciding that her first class wasn’t until noon, she could easily get done with one or two study guides or an essay in three.

She curled up on her bed when she was done and wrapped the blankets around her tightly. When she woke up and went to look at her phone and saw a tweet from Amanda from an hour ago, “Luke is not at morning practice due to personal reasons. Should expect him back for Saturday’s game in Columbus.”

She immediately woke up at the fact, looking back at her other notifications. There must’ve been at least a dozen missed calls from Luke and 15 text messages. She could only think about the worst, if he had gotten hurt but just didn’t want to tell someone, if he had been so drunk that he couldn’t think straight, if he had a panic attack last night. Her thoughts raced but halted when there was a knock on the door.

She went out to the living room, still clad in her sweats from the previous night. Her friends must’ve either already left or were still sleeping. She walked to the door, peeking through the peephole and gasping. She all but ripped the door open, “Lukey?”

He smiled when he saw her, immediately feeling better. Her eyes were still the same from the first time he had experienced her like this and he knew there would probably be a coffee pot brewing in the next few minutes, but he was here now and that was a wave of relief, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering my calls and I know you were studying last night so you probably wouldn’t have answered them anyway. But when I saw you called during the game I got worried because you never call. And I just wanted to make sure you were okay and that you weren’t overworking yourself but I can tell that you are.”

She frowned at his words but also felt butterflies in her stomach at the thought of him flying out just because he wanted to ensure she was okay. She stepped aside to let him in and then led him to her bedroom. It was cleaner than what he had witnessed in the past years.

“You can’t just fly out every time you think I’m overworking myself, Luke.”

“I know but I wasn’t thinking. I was worried, really worried.” He held her hand, playing with her fingers as a form of comfort, “How long were you up to last night?”

She hesitated before responding, “3…”

He only sighed and tugged her closer to the bed so they could lay down, “Luke I have class in two hours.”

“I know but just for a little bit, and then I’ll take you to class.”

“You still know you’re way around campus?”

“Did I ever know my way around campus?”

She shook her head and laughed, “No.”

He smiled at her laugh, “You do realize I’m only going to be allowing you to rest while I’m here right?”

“But I have one more essay to finish.”

He glared at her, “Fine, but after that, you are going to be right here, in my arms, and not thinking about school at all.”

“Deal.”He kissed her before allowing her to get up and get ready for class. They both walked on campus to her class with the same thought, grateful that Luke had come to see her. Even with being 603 miles away from each other, they would do anything to be there for one another.

𝗡𝗘𝗪 𝗝𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗘𝗬 𝗗𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗦 𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧 ୨୧

@blakesbearsblog @toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @prettyjoseph @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @quinnylouhughesx43

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