#tried to pour all my devotion into this lol

[starsinthesky5]

husband & dad joe burrow (headcannons) || joe burrow x reader

description: little things about husband joey and dad joey 

a/n: ahem, the bitch is back 🗣️🗣️ it’s been three long weeks of no fics but im here ;) this was a request i got! i’ve been in my dad/husband joe feels lately and UGH. i can’t. i just felt the urge to write this and get it out asap because he’s just had me in a mood lately that like 🤰🤗

side note- the next part of nothings gonna hurt you baby is coming! thanks for your patience loves 💞

word count: 8.6 k (i got carried away lol)

warnings: fluff, allusions to sex

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husband joe

joe always wakes you up with little kisses in the morning. he knows you hate alarms because of how startling they can be, so instead, he presses his gentle lips against the soft skin of your face to ease you into waking up. his trail of kisses always starts on your jawline and ends at your lips, he hits every single spot that he knows you love to be kissed at. you usually wake up midway through his little gesture, but you love the feeling of his lips on you too much so you only open your eyes when he’s done. he always has this lazy look on his face, his voice raspy and scratchy, his hair all messy and soft. he’s so adorable when he wakes up, and even cuter when you open your eyes because his smile gets bigger. “morning, princess,” he mumbles before leaning in for another kiss. you wouldn’t want to be woken up any other way

joey always makes your morning coffee for you. he says “can’t have wifey walking around all cute and snuggly but acting like zombie,”. you never have to ask him to do it for you, he just knows. he knows exactly what kind of coffee you want, how many splashes of creamer, and specifically what mug you like to have it in. it was a little souvenir mug you got during your honeymoon from the almafi coast in italy. sometimes he'll even warm the mug before pouring the coffee, just so it's extra cozy. those little things he did for you were your absolute favorite. you really didn’t need anything else in the morning, just joey and his perfectly brewed, as he called it, "love in a cup"

during the off season, he’d even make you breakfast every morning—regardless of whether he had something going on that he had to do. it was a routine for you during those months, walking down the stairs to the smell of cooked bacon and freshly chopped fruits while he was flipping pancakes on the griddle. you’d make your way downstairs, sit on the kitchen island, and just watch him like a lovesick fool, his bare back to you as he worked away, humming softly to the music in the background. he enjoyed making you breakfast with the soft melodies of sweet, classic love songs playing. some of his favorites were “it had to be you” by frank sinatra, “hopelessly devoted to you” by olivia newton-john, and “look after you” by the fray. you loved to see him like this, so normal, simple…so husband. seeing him doing something so simple and domestic made your heart swell. he was in total "husband mode" according to you when he was cooking

and whenever he put that chef's apron over his bare chest...let's just say the pancakes didn't always turn out as perfect as they could. it didn't take long for his attention to shift--especially when he caught you looking at him a certain way. before you knew it, the pancakes would burn and he'd be too distracted by other things to care ;)

joey is such a cuddle monster in private. the man cannot keep his hands off you when you’re alone together. you thought you had seen the peak of his cuddle monster ways when you were dating, but it only got worse after you got married. he just needed to have his head lying on your chest or burrowed in your neck. he loved to have his legs tangled with yours, bonus points if he had his seinfeld sweats on. that was maximum “on some comfy shit” vibes for him. you didn’t mind, his warmth was the best feeling in the entire world 

and whenever you tried to get up to go do something, he’d follow you around like an adorable lost puppy, waiting for you to be done so you could go back to snuggling

after a late night out with your girls, joe would always help you get un-ready. he'd be there with a bottle of remover and some cotton pads, gently removing your makeup as he asked you about your night. he'd help you get undressed, guide you through brushing your teeth, and then help you get cozy in bed. he would then plug in your phone for you, fill up the water bottle you kept on your nightstand, and clean up any mess in your bedroom. he knew you'd be dealing with a hangover the next morning, so he took care of all the little things so that your only job was to rest

joe leaves you little hidden notes around the house--inside your purse, tucked into a book you were reading, or in drawers around the house. each note was filled with sweet messages reminding you how much he loves you and appreciates you

"you make me a better man. thank you for loving me as I am"  - found in your skincare drawer "i fall in love with you more each day. you're my everything," - hidden under your pillow "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror "i'm head over cleats for you :)" - taped to your shoes "what does taylor swift say in her one song? oh right, "have you ever thought just maybe...you belong with me ;) ?" - taped to your shampoo bottle "remember our first date at the planetarium? i still get butterflies every time I see you, just like I did then," - stuck to your vanity mirror

"you make me feel so high school every time i look at you." - tucked into your planner "i know how to ball, and you know aristotle. well, we both do. but you're a bigger philosophy buff than me :)" - tucked into your computer "i love the feeling of your skin against mine. i want to feel that warmth all night," - found inside your book "just a little reminder that i can't wait to have you all to myself tonight. you drive me wild," - taped to your bottle of pomegranate juice “i love my wife. i love my wife. i love love LOVE my wife :),” - taped to your jewelry stand "i've been thinking about the last time we...let's do that again, shall we? - found on the full body mirror in the bedroom, hinting at a special moment "i love when you wear this dress. it drives me fucking wild. you're so god damn sexy baby," - taped to that little lacy red dress you wore for his birthday last year "you've intercepted my heart," - tucked under your waterbottle

joe is weirdly (it's so cute though) obsessed with getting the laundry done just right. he knows the exact way you like your clothes folded, and he's mastered the wash cycle for some of your delicate tops. sometimes, when you're tired and lazy after a hard day at work, you'll come home to find your laundry neatly folded on the side of your bed. you wouldn't have to ask him to do it, he would just know. he's definitely beating the "he can't do his own laundry" allegations ;)

joe didn't let the fact that you two were now married and together for life get in the way of still having weekly date nights. sometimes it would be as simple as ordering chinese takeout and watching a movie in bed, wearing your comfiest clothes. other times, he'd choose a free night during the week and surprise you with a night out at a restaurant you'd wanted to try or an activity that brought out your silly sides (mini golf, bowling, etc). sometimes he would even cook up a little dinner for you, candlelit table and everything. he would say, "just because we're married, doesn't mean i'm done wooing you,". it honestly didn’t matter what you two did, as long as you were together, everything was perfect

every week it felt like you were still dating, still falling for each other, deeper and deeper, one date night at a time

joe insists on driving you everywhere, no matter the weather or even if you could've driven yourself. you have a nail appointment? joe drives you. you need to go to the store? joe drives you. you want to go to your besties place? joe drives you. he loves the excuse to spend extra time with you, and you'll catch him reaching for your hand at every red light and stop sign

those drives are filled with secret--not so secret--glances too. he just can't stop staring at you, like ever. you're the most beautiful thing he's ever set his eyes on, sometimes not even being able to believe that you were real

after a long game, joe would likely come home exhausted, but he's never too tired to check in on you first. he'll let you fuss over him--ice packs, massage gun and all--but in return he makes sure you've got everything you need for your night. whether that's a hot bath, a cup of tea, or just a spare hour to let you bitch and complain about the game because he knows you get heated very fast when watching football. he knew that all this was just as mentally exhausting for you as it was him. he couldn’t imagine how it felt to be in the stands every week, watching him get tackled to the ground and fight his way to victory. but the fact that you still stuck around, after all the pain and frustration that this brought you, stood out to him. you were always there for him, no matter what

“thank you for being there for me. you’ve been with me through it all–every practice, every game, every injury, every tough loss...and even through the pressure, the media, and the expectations that never seem to let up. you’ve seen the worst parts of this career–the long hours, the hits I take, the doubts that creep in after a tough game–and still, you’re always there, no matter what. unconditionally. i don’t even think I can put it into words…how much I appreciate you. how much I love you for standing by me. you’re there for me after the worst games, when im beating myself up, and somehow, you always make it better. i don’t know how you do it, but i know i couldn’t do this without you. you make everything feel worth it, even when it’s hard. and i hope you know that, even if i can’t always find the right words to say it. i love you more than anything, and i’m so damn lucky to have you by my side,”

joe goes all out when decorating the house for christmas, and especially did when it was your first christmas as husband and wife. he obsessed over finding the perfect tree, you think you went to maybe 3 or 4 places before settling on the perfect one. it made your heart swell when you remembered the twinkle in his eyes when they landed on the perfect tree. he eagerly yanked you over, his voice all high and laced with excitement. “oo, ooo. we can do like red and gold ornaments. wait no. maybe orange? because go bengals! or would that look tacky. or wait we also have a bunch of those family ornaments so maybe no theme? ah, i don’t care, it’ll be perfect no matter what,”. he was acting like a little kid and it was the cutest damn thing you think you had ever seen

he brought out all the festive pillows, hung all the little lights everywhere he could, and even bought one of those blow-up santa's reindeer decorations for the front yard. "it's our first christmas as a married couple, babe. we're practically obligated to have the best decorated house on the block,"

then when you tried to put a stop to his christmas explosion after you came home and the inside of the house looked like santa’s workshop had exploded inside, he said, "look, if we don't go all out this year, how do we tell our kids one day that we started a tradition of being the most festive couple ever, hmm?" he asked while holding up a ridiculous amount of mistletoe for emphasis

on christmas eve, you two ended up wearing cheesy matching pj's--joe rolls his eyes at them but secretly loves wearing them because its "peak couple behavior" and you two make it work. "i'm only doing this for you," he says, but then you'll find him wearing those same pjs long after christmas is over

joe lowkey is an absolute gift wrapping pro. every gift is cleanly wrapped with perfect corners and bows. he says he learned it from his mama--which wasn't surprising since joey was an absolute mama's boy and looked up to her for everything. he even adds a little note to each gift, reminding you how much he loves you. that he did on his own, something he didn’t get from his mama. that was just your husband being the best damn husband to ever husband

joey secretly hangs mistletoe all over the house and each time you pass under it, he's right there with a silly grin, lips puckered for a kiss. "oh, look where we are again," he smirks every time before pulling you in for his favorite way to pass time

joey surprised you with a custom ornament on christmas eve too. it said "our first christmas, mr. & mrs. burrow", and he looks so proud while giving it to you. you act like you don't notice the blush on his cheeks when you hang it on the tree together, but boy did he feel like exploding into a cloud of pink sparkly dust at that moment

if his hands weren’t always on you, his lips definitely were. you lost count of how many times you two were late for something because he just couldn’t get himself to pull away from your lips. it would usually start innocently, maybe a quick peck or two before heading out--but one kiss would turn into two, then three. before you knew it, he'd have you pressed against the doorframe, his lips lingering longer each time. “mmm, 5 more minutes baby,” he would mumble against your lips before stuffing his hand in your hair and pushing your face closer to his. you would try to resist by laughing between kisses and reminding him you had to go, but he'd just smile at you and then lean in for another one

joe has a habit of surprising you with flowers, but never for a specific reason. he'll come home with a bouquet of flowers on a random day after practice, saying something like, "just felt like my wife deserved this today for being the amazing woman she is,"

joe often stays up late watching game film before important games, but he always invites you to come sit with him on the couch, even if you end up falling asleep midway. you'll wake up with his arm draped around you, the TV quietly playing game highlights and he'll whisper, "sorry honey, i didn't mean to wake you up," before dropping a sweet kiss to your forehead. but there are times where you stay awake and watch the film with him, snuggled up together on the couch. when he's in analysis mode, he'll absentmindedly start explaining plays to you, "okay, so if you're the wide receiver, you'll run this route," he says while guiding your hand to demonstrate. it always ends up with him getting...distracted though. the game film had long been forgotten as the only route joe was concerned about was the route he was going to let his lips take to the place where you needed him the most ;)

even though joe is the star on the field, you're the star off the field. whether it's a work event, casual dinner, or something important to you--joe's there for you in full support. you are the star of the show, the most important thing in the universe. he'll be cheering you on like it's the super bowl or something. he just loves to see you work hard and have that pay off. he loves to see good things happen to you because you deserve all the happiness humanly possible

he’s always the loudest clapper and cheerer whenever you get an award or recognition at work. he’s the first one to shoot up from his chair when your name is called, and the last one to sit down after you’re done being serenaded with praise. he knows how much you support him, how you tirelessly shower him with love and support. so he always makes sure to do the exact same for you

before every game, you slip a little handwritten note into joe's locker with some words of encouragement and something to make him laugh, even for a brief moment. "bring home that win and I'll have a sweet treat waiting," or "you make this look so damn easy. go out there and do your thing, baby. i'll be cheering for you, always," or even "the faster you wrap up that win, the sooner we can play our own game. i've got a new playbook for you to try. hint: it involves less clothing,". he always kept these notes in his bag and will read them when he's feeling stressed or overwhelmed--during halftime or even before the game again--and they'll act as a little boost

joe’s love language is all of the above. but gifts, physical touch, and quality time were the frontrunners

gifts-

he showers you with gifts all the time, for absolutely no reason. one day you’ll come home to a new handbag waiting for you on the table. or a new necklace to add to your expensive collection (he has great taste). or you’ll be surprised with adorable little things like a new stuffed teddy bear or a funny spongebob sweatshirt (you both were equally as obsessed with the cartoon). he loved to buy you things for no reason because he just loved to see that bashful smile on your face and your little nose scrunch up

you even remember that one halloween when he made you a boo-basket after overhearing one of his teammates talk about making one for their wife. after hearing that, joe went straight to the store to pick up the essentials and then when he got home, got started on the more...extravagant pieces of the basket. joe covered all the grounds with it, even adding in his own flair. there was a cozy blanket, a bunch of sweet treats and savory snacks, halloween candy, a few candles, a book you’d been wanting to read for a while, face masks, fuzzy socks, a new heating pad, and new ugg slippers. but then there was also a new diamond tennis bracelet, a new pair of cartier shades (so you can match him), and a little designer clutch to go along with a new dress you bought just a few weeks before

during the off season, he would occasionally surprise you with spontaneous weekend getaways as he knew you loved traveling. he would always take you somewhere you were dreaming of--a cozy cabin, a beachside resort, or even a staycation at a fancy hotel nearby

after one of his biggest wins--his first AFC championship win--joe had a game ball set aside just for you. on the ball he wrote, "this one's for you, forever and always yours - j.b". it sits in a display case in your home, a constant reminder of how you're always on his mind, even in his biggest moments

every season, joe gives you a signed jersey (one of his own, of course. usually the first jersey from week 1). each jersey has a personal message for you on the inside of the collar like "my #1" or "forever yours" and are dated to match the significant milestones. you have a collection of them now, and they're one of the most treasurable things you own

quality time- 

anytime together was quality time for joe. whether that be picking out new paint colors for the house or new tiles for your bathroom, or snuggling up on the couch together to watch trashy reality tv, or sitting on the back porch with a glass of wine and watching the sunset. he just loved any and all time he got with you

he always made sure to make time for you. football took up quite a bit of his time, but that made it even more important to take time out for you

one thing joe loved to do with you was late night drives and walks

he loved to drive around with you on the golf cart, especially down to the river behind the house. your head leaning on his shoulder, fingers entwined, and the breeze blowing through your hair. it was so simple yet so pleasurable for him. it gave him the serenity he craved every day, an escape from his chaotic football world

late night walks were also exciting for him. he loved to take you out for a lap or two around the neighborhood after dinner. the only light was coming from the lamposts and the moon above you two. oftentimes during these walks, you two would have some of your deepest, intimate conversations. before you got married, those deep conversations would be about marriage, about your future. but since that was now sealed, your deep conversations would be about things such as kids, his future in cincinnati, and where you two see yourself in 15 years. but it didn't always have to be serious. you two would often find yourselves giggling about aliens, time travel, and old stories from your days back at LSU

oh and he also just loved to spend time between your legs

physical touch-

joe is handsy as hell. he’d always been like that, but you thought it would die down as the years went by and you two started acting more like a unit than a bunch of horny college kids. but those two things can be true at the same time

he’s always holding your hand when he can. he needs to feel you at all times. whether it’s holding hands in the car, holding hands underneath the dining table at dinner with friends or family, or holding hands in a crowded room to calm his anxieties. he just needed that touch. his hand is also often found at your waist or in the back pocket of your jeans. he likes to have it in your jean pocket because according to him, “it’s the only way i can touch your ass with decency in public,”

he also had a habit of fidgeting with your wedding ring. you don’t know why but he just loved to play with it, twist it around your finger

the reason was that he just needed to remind himself that it was there. that it was real and it was on your finger. sometimes he couldn’t believe that you were his wife, couldn’t believe that someone like you was with him till the day he died

he’s also handsy in some…other ways ;) 

if he could, he would absolutely keep you in bed with him for eternity

he was so damn good in bed. like everytime you guys got down to it, you’d be left breathless, speechless, and in awe

as your marriage progressed, the sex only got better and better. he knew what you liked and what you didn’t like, so he made the things you did like even more intense. he wasn’t opposed to trying new things at all either, as long as you were comfortable and felt satisfied. he wanted to do whatever he could to bring you to heaven

also because there was no need to be careful anymore. you were married. you wanted kids together. and well, the rest is self explanatory....but once he got to feel you without any barriers, that's when he really went feral. like a whole other level of down bad for you. he really needed to be pried off of you because he could never get enough of you or your body

joe loved praising you the entire time too, and honestly, you earned it. the way you'd make him feel in bed was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. you were so insanely sexy, so insanely good at it all. every time you two got down to it, you'd make it unforgettable ;)

"baby...fuck you're amazing. i can't get enough of..oh..i can't get enough of you. you're doing so well...just like that...do what you want. make yourself feel good, y/n...take it,"

joe was so obsessed with you, and that love and infatuation had not once gone down over the years. it somehow got bigger. he was so happy to be your husband, and he was even happier that you were his wife. 

engagement and honeymoon joe

you and joe had been dating for about 4 years before he popped the question. from the very beginning, he knew you were his girl. his forever girl. his special girl. he loved you quite literally more than life itself, nothing could ever come before you. you were his biggest priority. joe from years ago would've laughed if someone told him that in the future, something else other than football would become his first priority. but joe now? joe now was proud of the fact that you were his biggest priority. he was proud to shower you with unwavering love, and affection; he loved being able to give you the world. loved being able to give his wife everything she could ever want

there was never a doubt in his mind, but it wasn't until just after your fourth anniversary that he decided to make it official. he was waiting for all the stars to align before doing it. you weren't surprised that he did--he'd always dropped hints about the future, about how he couldn't imagine his life without you. but you were surprised by when he did it

he flew both of you down to louisiana for a few days that summer, claiming that it was a work trip. it was a work trip on the surface. he was helping with scouting, recruitment, and training as he was one of, if not the most, successful LSU football alums in recent years. but on a deeper level, this was the proposal trip. every moment seemed casual, perfectly normal, but you didn't know he had a ring, the ring, tucked away; waiting for just the right time to turn this work trip into the start of forever

he had an entire day set aside just for you two. it started with breakfast at one of your favorite spots from your LSU days--a cozy little diner, just walking distance from joe's old apartment. you two used to find yourselves in the same booth every weekend, sharing pancakes and debriefing your weeks together with endless cups of coffee. it was like stepping back in time, a sweet nod to the beginning of your journey together. then, he took you to the planetarium--the same place he brought you on your very first date. he'd always been fascinated by space, and you remembered how he told you that his universe seemed a little less overwhelming with you in it; that you were the brightest star in his sky, and you outshined everything else

it was as if he was recreating the milestones of your relationship that day, building up to something bigger

then he took you to a romantic dinner at the same restaurant where he told you he loved you for the first time--yet another milestone recreated. he got the same table, the same food items, and even got you the same flowers he did on your first date. he remembered it all

after that, he ended up driving you to Tiger Stadium

you were so confused as to why you were at the football stadium that night, especially because there was no event going on that joe needed to be a part of. the entire stadium was empty except for you two. you thought it was just a little walk down memory lane, but little did you know, joey had other plans

joe had always been sappy when it came to big moments in your relationship, so when it came time to propose, he knew there was only one place where it could happen. the same place he first asked you to be his girlfriend: LSU’s Tiger Stadium—after one of the most important games of the season back during his first year at LSU. this was the place where he was now going to ask you to be his wife. yet another milestone was recreated, but also another milestone being created at the same time

you didn't think much of it as you two walked hand in hand through the tunnel and onto the turf, you could almost hear the echoes and chants of the crowds from years ago. but when he led you to the exact spot where he asked you to be his girlfriend--the fifty years line--your heart skipped a beat

"remember this?" he asked, his voice soft and gentle, his body filled with nostalgia

but then you saw his expression shift to something more serious, more raw as he looked around at the stadium he once called his home. he reached into his pocket and got down on one knee right there, right in the middle of the field. "this place means everything to me. it's where my dreams started, where I became the player I am today. but it's also where we started. where I asked you to be my girl for the first time. everything changed when you said yes, and since then you've been my biggest support, my constant, my person. it hit me early on that there's no one else i'd rather have by my side. not just through the football stuff, but through life. and i realized there's no place more perfect than this...to ask you what i've been dreaming about for years. this is where we started--where i first asked you to be mine. now i'm asking you for forever. y/n, you're my heart, my home, my everything. you single handedly rocked my entire world when you first walked in, and now i just can't get enough of you. i want to spend the rest of my life loving you, making you laugh, and building a life together. will you marry me?"

and he even got the jumbotron to show an old photo of the two of you from the night he asked you to be his girlfriend, right at the exact spot where he was on one knee right in front of you

when he opened the little velvet box, you felt like your heart popped out of your chest. the ring he had for you was the most gorgeous thing you had ever set your eyes on, well other than joe. it was custom made, designed to resemble the promise ring he gave you all those years ago

small diamonds lined the sides of the ring, giving it an extra sparkle that caught the light with every movement. he knew you loved sparkle, so he made sure the ring was extra sparkley

the breathtaking cushion-cut diamond in the middle of the ring was just perfect. a little halo of smaller diamonds surrounded it, highlighting it's brilliance just enough

the most special part of the ring was the inside of the band. inside, the words "forever and always yours - j.b" were engraved in cursive, just like your promise ring

and of course you said yes to his proposal. why would you not? he was your dream man. this was your dream

the hours after the proposal were so magical

the first thing he did was pull out his phone and call your family, excitedly sharing the news of your engagement with them. the proud smile on joe's face is forever burned into your head. he was so excited to make you his wife. he was oozing love that night. you'd never seen him so in love before

then, you guys had some celebratory drinks to commemorate the engagement. let's just say you two might have had one too many glasses of champagne because, by the end of the night, you two were honestly contemplating if you should elope to a foreign country next week and get married

you fell asleep that night dreaming together. you talked about your dreams for the future--where you see yourself living, your dream vacation spots, and even little details about your wedding like the flavor of cake. "i want red velvet," was all joe said when you brought up the cake. "i want red velvet. i want red velvet. if you love me, you'll let me have red velvet,"

for your honeymoon, joe took you to the amalfi coast, italy. one of your dream destinations

each evening, you two took long, romantic walks along the coastline. you walked hand in hand along the scenic walkways, the gorgeous sun setting behind you which casted a golden glow on both of you. you both took turns taking photos of little candid moments, laughing as you tried to get the perfect shot. "hey shorty, just hop up on my shoulders," he would cutely tease as you tried to get a good shot of the view, but your height got in the way

joey booked you a private boat tour on one of the days too. you both enjoyed the clear blue waters all day as you were surronded by breathtaking cliffs and coves. you even convinced joe to get a nice tan with you, but his stubborn ass refused to put on sunscreen, so he was a tad but overbaked at the end of the day. "ha, you look like a tomato," you giggled as you booped his red nose

he also booked you a private cooking class where you learn how to make authentic Italian dishes. you both laughed and teased each other while rolling out the fresh pasta and preparing a classic marinara sauce. "mmm, you look so delicious right now," he whispered in your ear as he felt himself get a bit overjoyed at the sight of you in an apron and your hair wrapped in a messy bun, flour all over your cheeks and arms. you pushed him away so you could focus, but in retaliation, he coated his big hands with flour, and then planted each hand on your ass, leaving big floury handprints on your ass which was so visible because of your black dress

you also have quite a few late-night gelato runs

after spending quite a few hours in bed, wrapped up in a passionate, heated bubble, you both would be craving the sweet, cold treat. so you'd quickly throw on some clothes and stumble out of your hotel, finding yourself at the doorsteps of local gelato shops. you tried sooo many flavors on the trip, playfully feeding each other spoonfuls as you walked through the charming streets under the moonlight

the entire trip, you two were so attached at the hip. like way more than usual. you were like magnets. he even made sure that during your beach days, you were secluded and away from everyone else so that nobody would interrupt your makeout sessions...and well, some other things too. he just wanted to be able to love up on his wife in peace

the honeymoon was so perfect. it was like the perfect escape for you two, the best way to start off forever :)

dad joe

joe talks to your baby bump sooo much. sometimes you'll even wake up to his head level with your bump, and the sound of his voice whispering to his unborn daughter. he loved talking to her, not caring if the conversation was one-sided. he just wanted baby tessa to be able to recognize his voice when she was born

"good morning little tiger. mommy is still sleeping but daddy is wide awake. thanks for letting her sleep in, baby. she had a long night because of your little kicks. they hurt sometimes, so just be gentle with her, okay? we love you and can't wait to meet you, pumpkin,"

his featherlight kisses around your belly were both you and your baby's favorite thing. every night before bed, he'd help you moisturize your belly with some special pregnancy lotion you ordered online, and right after he was done, the kisses would begin. the first couple of times he did this, it was calm and quiet. but one night, a kiss to your bump resulted in the baby's first kick

"oh my god, y/n! she kicked! babygirl kicked!" he excitedly said while meeting your eyes. the look on his face just made you want to die right then and there. he was so damn happy. he was just so excited about all of it--for the baby, for you to be a mom, and for him to be a dad

he even gives his football commentary to your bump

during MNF or TNF, you two would be snuggled up on the couch and joe's cheek would be squished up against your swollen belly. your hands would be stuck in his fluffy hair, playing and twirling with the strands as he talked to baby burrow about what was going on in the game. he would have this adorable little smile on his face when he spoke football talk to your bump, because each time he said something, he'd get a little kick in return

"alright, babygirl. you're about to witness some football magic," he says against your belly, his eyes glancing up at you for a second so you could see his excitement. he had a twinkle in his eye as he spoke, "see that guy over there?" he said while pointing at the screen. "that's my buddy. he's got an arm like you wouldn't believe. he's gonna throw a TD any minute and I want you to remember that feeling and sound of excitement for when you watch daddy do the same thing, okay?" he asked, his fingers tracing over your bump as if he was trying to connect with her. and he did, because she gave him a gentle little kick in response

joe took it upon himself to order and read a boatload of parenting books and articles. he wanted to know all the ins and outs of being a dad, even asking advice from all his friends and family. you found it so heartwarming to see the amount of dedication he put into preparing to be a dad. joe always gave everything his 100%, but it seemed like he was giving this particular thing 110%

he got a little too psyched out, however, after reading an article about the appropriate age to let your daughter start dating

"babe. no boys. she can't let that poison seep into her brain? tessa needs to be on top of everything if she wants to be the best possible version of herself, at least until she graduates college. no boys at all," joey said, his expression was so serious it made you giggle

"listen, i was the same way. but then I met you in college. you didn't poison my mind, right? tess will be fine. besides, we have sooooo many years before we need to worry about which boy our daughter is sneaking out at midnight with," you giggled. "babe!" joe gasped, "this is not funny,"

joe loves baby shopping a little too much

going to the baby store with him is like going into victoria's secret with a teenage girl. he was lost in his own little world

as you're browsing through the clothes, he gets overly excited about the little outfits. "the clothes are so tinyyyy," he pouts while picking up a little baby joe burrow jersey. he picks out a bunch of cute little onesies for his babygirl, many of which have cute little football sayings on them like "daddy's cheerleader" or "MVB: most valuable baby". he wanted her wardrobe to match his love for football as much as possible. which is also why a few days later, he came home after practice with a tote bag of baby bengals merch just for her

in the toy section, joe completely loses it. he can't resist touching each plush toy and rattle, often making silly faces or sounds to see what toy gets a reaction from you or your baby bump. "oh wait, i need to get her a squidward plushie. oh wait, i also need to get her a squidward beanie to match me sweatshirt game days," he nodded as he stood in front of the spongebob section with both hands on each sides of his hips. he was already standing just like a dad and you couldn't help but giggle at it

"god, i can't believe we're gonna be parents," he pouted as he walked out of the baby store, bags galore in his hands. "im so excited,"

during labor, joey was the most supportive and gentle husband possible. he was the calm in the storm and just his presence was doing wonders for you

he held your hand, rubbed your back, and helped you through breathing exercises. he was very hands-on, which you loved. his touch always put you at ease

during those intense contractions, he always reminded you to hold eye contact with him. those baby blue eyes were your safe haven and each time you looked into them, you allowed yourself to get lost. the pain of the contractions basically faded away with just one long stare into his warm eyes

joe made sure that he was in communication with the medical staff. he needed to make sure you were receiving the best care possible and that he knew everything that was going on at all times

during labor, he was your biggest cheerlead. whenever you felt anxious or scared, he was right next to you, whispering words of praise into your ear, "you're doing amazing, princess," or "i'm so proud of you mama. you're so strong, i love you so much. she's going to love you,"

joe made sure that you had quiet moments too--where he was just sitting next to you, gently stroking your hand as he talked about how excited he was to meet your baby. he just wanted you to lay back and listen in order to conserve your energy

he even cracks a few jokes during your intense moments to calm you down

breathing during a contraction- "okay, babe, remember: in through the nose, out through the--wait, isn't this basically football practice? you've got better form than half the team right now!" he laughed

after a contraction- "sooo. i guess we can skip leg day for a while after this, huh?"

as he massages your back- "you know, i’ve been meaning to tell you, this is great practice for the halftime pep talks and relaxing mechanisms you'll need for tess when she’s older. if she's anything like her mom, she won't hesitate in marching down to the locker room and cursing out the entire d-line,"

when you're trying to relax- "just think, by the end of the day, we'll have a little new teammate on our roster. you think she's more offense material? or defense?"

after your baby is born, joe's first words are so soft and emotional. he's so overwhelmed with emotions, but the first thing he thinks about, is you

"you did it, princess. you're so incredible, mama," he says as he kisses your forehead, tears in his eyes, completely in awe of you

a few days post birth, you're coming down the stairs after a much needed nap and the sight your met with literally causes you to melt

baby tessa's squished up against joe's bare chest, sleeping while he just held her against him. you can see that he's quietly relishing the moment, this little bonding time with his daughter. her little baby cheek is pushed up against his muscular chest and that alone drives you wild. those raging pregnancy hormones were definitely getting to you ;)

the sleepless nights don't faze joe. everytime she wakes up crying, he's up in an instant. he lets you rest, knowing that you needed it way more than you thought. you were working so hard as a new mom, you needed to just relax. "i've got her babe," he whispers to you. you love watching him cradle her in his arms, rocking her back and forth while softly humming a song. you saw him visibly release the tension in his muscles as he felt her calm down in his arms

joey is hyper aware of every sound she makes. the second she lets out so much as a tiny squeak, he's right by her side, making sure she's okay. he absolutely adores his little girl

joe has set daddy-daughter bonding time in the morning. each morning, he walks around the house with her in his arms, talking to her about football, his training, and all the things he plans to teach her about the sport. he's convinced she's listening, even if she's only staring at him with wide baby eyes and a drool-covered chin

joe is all about family naps. he tells you that all three of you need to snuggle together on the couch during the day and you obviously agree. your home was those two right there. of course, you wanted to snuggle up with them. you'd often wake up and see him with baby burrow resting on his chest, both of them fast asleep as his big hand gently rested on her tiny back

"baby, she's so cute! look at her little squishy face," joe would giggle to you as he played around with her in his lap

joe constantly reminds you of how incredible you are. he's in total awe every time he watches you feed the baby or rock her to sleep. "you're such an amazing mom. i'm so lucky to have both of you. you're my two favorite girls," he would say

joe jokes that he's already making a baby-friendly football playbook

he scribbles down little plays and shows them to her as if this is film study and she's taking notes. "okay, tessa. here's what we're gonna do. first, we tackle nap time. then, we conquer tummy time," he would explain to her with a goofy smile, one that caused her to shriek and squeal

joe has this video camera that he uses to document her progress. he tells you that he's gonna film her little moments just like his dad did for him. seeing joe walk around tessa with a camera in his hand, trying to get every angle, made your heart melt. nothing brought you more joe than hearing a mix of both their soft giggles, shrieks, and laughs. "tessa...over here, pumpkin. daddy's over here!" he would softly say as he tried to get her to look back at him and his camera as she tried to play with her squidward plushie--her favorite thing in the world right now

crawl training was one of your most favorite parts of the day because you could just sit back and watch joe be in full daddy mode for an hour or two

he would playfully get down on his hands and knees, demonstrating how to crawl. he slowly moved one hand forward along with his knee, "look, babygirl. it's just like this! one hand, then the other--easy peasy, right?"

every time she moved the smallest inch, joe's face lit up with pride. "you're so strong, tessa. you've got this!" he cheered on

he'd even motivate her with toys, gently waving it in front of her. "you want mr. squidward? come get him, sweetie," he teases, proud of every shuffle she makes

"c'mon, you're almost there, babygirl. you've got this," he would encourage. "you're almost to mama," he added as he met your soft eyes while you patted your legs so tessa would remain focused

each time she struggled, you watched him quickly scoop her up in his arms for s break. peppering her with kisses and tickles while whispering, "it's okay, we have all the time in the world. me and mama are soo proud of you, pumpkin,". his patience was so special to you. he was so gentle with her, so understanding

but when she managed to push herself even further than before, joe would celebrate like it was a touchdown. "that's my girl!" he'd cheer, clapping his hand softly as he watched her giggle and squeal in your lap while you showered her with kisses

"huh, i guess she'll be crawling all over the place now, isn't she?" joe asked you as he sat down with you after crawl training with his little tiger

"probably. but that's all your doing, baby," you would tease

tessa was such a daddy's girl, and how could she not be? he was so good to her

seeing joe as a dad just made you fall in love with him even more. the way he took on this major new responsibility like a champ made your heart explode. you didn't think you could possibly love him any more than you already did, but tessa's arrival proved you wrong in the best way

joe was the absolute perfect husband and an even better dad. he was naturally good at everything he did, but loving you and his babygirl was the easiest thing for him to excel at

--the end--

[barbieaemond]

Religion (sneak peek)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: mild angst, misogyny, pregnancy, childbirth, oral sex, p in v, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, brief lactation kink, breeding kink, manipulation (to get some), some good ol' tying up, slandering of the Gods lol

Author's note: this is the third and final part following And I dream of a grave and A curse for a curse but can be read as a standalone. It will be posted tomorrow!

She looks around briefly; the room is warm, the fire in the hearth is lit, as the candles scattered all around. This is all quite familiar. “These are my old chambers…” she says with a little frown, turning to him.

“Quite the observer, wife.” He drawls, and takes a few steps. His stride is different now. Slow, contemplating, just as his gaze raking over her, as if he in the first place doesn’t know why he brought her here and he’s assessing what to do. A war map unfolding, and he knows where all the faults lie.

“I thought we could spend some time together” he starts, walking past her to go sit near the fire “Alone.” he adds once he leisurely sits down, crossing his long legs and resting his hands on the armrests. “What better place than a vacant room? No one will come looking for us here.”

She tries as hard as she can to stop the little smirk at the corner of her lips; she walks closer, stopping right in front of him, staring down. “They might hear.” 

“Hmm. And that is much of a trouble for you, isn’t it?” he asks with the most fake genuine tone, taking a cup from the nearby table, and then “You sucked my cock on a terrace and begged me to fuck you in the Small Council…I thought I told you to quit your act.”

She smiles openly now, watching the wine pouring in the cup, his eye fixed on the liquid as his eyebrow shots up. “Besides, I know exactly what to do to muffle your noises.”

“You should be proud of my noises.”

“I am.” He says, taking a sip of wine, his eye piercing through her above the cup’s brim. “But for once, Aegon is right. I’m not one for sharing.”

His arm moves to put the wine aside but she takes it, only to feel his hand pulling the cup away from her. “You cannot drink.”

“Fine.” She concedes, leaning on him. “I’ll have it my way.”

She holds his face and with her left hand she glides her fingers on the left side, delicately but with purpose, pushing the eyepatch off. And then she kisses him, eagerly, licking his lips and then breaching inside to taste the wine on his tongue, on the roof of his mouth.

She sighs deeply when he locks his tongue with hers, and feels his lips curling.

“Did you hear it?” He says breaking the kiss, breathing into her mouth. “That one is my favorite.”

“Your favorite what?” She asks mindlessly, chasing his lips but to no use, because he tilts his head back, his cursed smirk lingering.

“Noise. It’s a little thing…” he tells her, locking one hand around her neck “in the back of your throat, close to a sigh but not quite…” his fingers trail against her throat, chasing her swallowing “It tells me you’re dying to.”

“To do what?”

“Fall on your knees for me. Be a supplicant.”

She grabs the back of his neck, driving his head close and looks down at his arched mouth “You cannot live without God, can you?” She looks up, her mouth open to breathe “Seven of them seem to have cursed me. I had to find my own.”

His eye widens at that. He looks straight into her eyes, so devoted, so raw. She’s right. The Gods would curse her some more if they saw she looked at him the way she should look at the Gods.

“Then do it.”

“What?”

“Flatteries don’t work on me, sweetling. You should know that.” With his hand on her neck, he slightly pushes her away, putting some distance between them. “You will have to show me.”

“What would you have me do?”

His hands let go of her completely, resting on the armchair. The gemstone glints in blue and yet, it’s nowhere near the bright cursed thing in his eye. “Get on your knees for me. Now.”

She should be ashamed of the pull in her bones, the muscles willing to move on their own accord and fall to the ground. But why, why does it have to be sin? Why can it not be religion?

FULL FIC HERE

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#17: The Danger (1.02)

gif cred: @chaoticroad

In the final scenes of episode 2, we're given a glimpse of the various things that will complicate Rick and Michonn'es journey home. Richonne will have a lot of threats pointed their way, and yet it's clear who the danger will really be. Because among these concluding scenes, Ms. Dana really climbs up a platform and looks out at the CRM base like - if you ever find me and my husband in a fight with the most powerful military on the planet...help the military 💅🏽😌...

So that lovely scene between the vehicles ends with Rick and Michonne exiting separately as Rick walks out first and then Michonne. I’m sure having to part right now is no easy task for these magnets.

When Rick walked out and put on his helmet I was like Rick, remember to take a little bit of that pep out of your step lol. Cuz he’s supposed to just be scowly downtrodden Sergeant Major Grimes to the CRM, but you know he was feeling like a new man after his wife gave him life and a fresh dose of strength in that garage.

Michonne watches Rick go, likely enjoying that walk, and then she closes the door and has a subtle expression of determination on her face as she walks off. And Michonne's energy just feels like she's ready to go toe to toe with the CRM for everything they've done to her husband, her friends, and herself.

They show a video playing from Michonne’s interview as she looks right into the camera.

gif cred: @nerd4music

We just see the shoulder of a CRM member watching the video, and you already know that means trifling garbage lady Jadis has entered the chat to complicate things as she always does. 😒

And y'all, I don't care how many years it's been since I last saw that serpent on my screen, I still loathe Jadis with a passion...

Then Michonne is again walking around the CRM and A-ing it up just with her looks and walk alone.

The way Michonne is moving and observing, she looks like she should be the one the CRM answers to not Beale lol. Like she truly exudes leader vibes. (Side note: I saw people saying if Okafor had met Michonne he’d be trying to convince Michonne, the A above all As, to be his right hand in his plan and I agree 😁) 

Intercut between this is Jadis 'No Boundaries' Stokes entering Rick’s apartment and pouring herself a drink which...she tried it.

And then we cut back to Michonne and she's climbing up on a platform to get a good scope of the place.

Seeing Michonne climb on top of that thing I was like...

Cuz aren’t we supposed to be lying low and yet you’re now climbing up on that platform, skin all radiant and glowing and very likely to attract attention cuz like why is a new consignee just doing her own thing up here??? 😅

Listen, I support it cuz I will always support Michonne but I just knew she was about to have Rick stressed. One thing about Michonne is she gon' be an A. It just is what it is. 👌🏽😇

gif cred: @nerd4music

And she really does look stunning standing up on that post as she gets a better view of exactly what she’s dealing with. Michonne takes it all in with a look of fierce determination on her face, knowing that the CRM should be scared cuz they have hurt one too many people, especially people she cares about dearly, and now they gotta answer for it.

It was smart storytelling to give Michonne personal reasons to be beefing with the CRM on top of her issues with them for what they've done to Rick.

And I love how this scene is a reminder that part of what makes Richonne's love story so distinct is that Rick and Michonne really are lethal lovebirds. So Michonne Grimes is a devoted wife and a determined mother, and she's also real deadly when she wants to be. And the CRM is bound to learn that soon enough.

gif cred: @richardgrimes

Then I love the shot of her holding Nat's 'Danger' lighter. 👏🏽 And with that running theme of fire, the lighter is very fitting because again sometimes things have to burn and Michonne is not afraid to be the one to burn it down. She’s the danger.

And, I think this further confirms that Michonne and Danger were meant to have parallels as step-parents too. Also, it's just great that she has Nat’s lighter cuz it lets us know she’s going to ensure Nat fully gets his lick back against the CRM.

gif cred: @nerd4music

So after the great shot of Michonne looking like a Queen and then closing the lighter we cut to the Queen of Trash. 🙄 (Side note: while I loathe Jadis I think Pollyanna is a talented actress who has a good presence on screen. Just thought I'd clarify that because from here on out I'm whacking Jadis unabashedly👌🏽) 

Rick returns to his apartment and stops in his tracks when he sees Jadis is inside and has made herself comfortable. I hate how even Rick’s apartment doesn’t get to be a safe space for him because people just barge in at any time. 😑

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says hi and apologizes for breaking in and then says she’s here cuz this is an investigation but one that she wants to keep off the books. She tells him, “Let’s continue to keep certain things between you and me as we have.” 

And then because I think Jadis might combust if she doesn’t try someone every two seconds she shows she still enjoys making Rick uncomfortable by coming on to him when she says, “It’s been awhile. You look good.” And while Jadis is very correct about that it’s still trifling as hell and Rick is so over it as he responds by looking away and rolling his eyes.

I love how Rick genuinely only responds well to flirtatiousness and acknowledgment of his looks from Michonne and Michonne alone. I once saw someone say Rick is a michonnesexual and y'all...

So then Jadis marvels at how truly amazing it is that Michonne found Rick. When she says “She found you.” that’s when Rick’s face looks shaken as he realizes Jadis knows Michonne is here.

Then Jadis, who in her own weird twisted way is like one of the biggest believers in Richonne, says, “If anyone could she could.” It's good that Jadis is at least putting some respect on Michonne’s name here with that very accurate statement, even tho she’s still ticking me off.

But it is true - if anyone was gonna find Rick even despite him being trapped in a hidden city, it would be his soulmate.

Rick steps further into the apartment and reacts like he’s ready to end Jadis right here and now. Jadis reveals she knows what really happened in the forest and that the sword was Michonne’s meaning she’s the one who slit up those soldiers. Rick looks down as he listens and realizes that for the umpteenth time, Jadis is screwing up his plans. 😪

gif cred: @andy-clutterbuck

Jadis says she’s keeping the knowledge she has off the books and just storing it in her twisted bowl-cut head. She tells Rick, “This doesn’t fall under our long-standing deal.” And then knowing full well that Michonne probably has revitalized Rick to feel like he and her can finally break free Jadis says, “You have to know that if you try to escape with her I will make sure that all those people that you love die - including a few that I like very much.”

Just when I thought I couldn’t root for Jadis' demise any harder than I already was she says this. 😑 Had me watching like...

Rick reacts to the threat with worry in his eyes as he approaches and Jadis stands up to tell Rick, “You have to know that. I’m certain that you do.” And it’s sad seeing Rick have to be pulled right back into the CRM’s propaganda that they are impossible to overcome. Jadis says she’s had to do worse things and her hands are already covered in blood so they can't get any bloodier.

Then she says she has a question to ask Rick. She apologizes for the language she's about to use and then calls back to the odd way she used to speak when she and Rick first met in season 7 when she says, “But you’ve heard a lot of language from me, yes yes yes?” Ooh that ticked me off off off y’all, cuz she’s so smug as she shatters Rick’s hope of getting him and Michonne out of here. 😡

Jadis smiles and then drops the smile as she sternly asks what Rick is doing and Rick just stares at her silently, clearly thinking “Not today, not tomorrow…

And that concludes episode 2 of TOWL. Another great episode that I thoroughly enjoyed. 👏🏽

After years of waiting for that Richonne reunion moment, it was perfection. And this ep made it ultra-clear that TOWL was about to just spoil us rotten because, in the very episode where they reunited, Richonne then has a scene between those vehicles that for me I enjoyed even more, after already adoring the initial reunion. Just gold on gold on gold. 🤩 And we still were just in the front half of the series.

It’s so fitting that Danai got praise from the media for her performance this ep cuz she knocked it out of the park conveying every emotion with such powerful sincerity. Her and Andy’s ability to bring Michonne and Rick to life is truly something special and every minute of their first scenes together as non-dream Richonne was excellent. They made it clear these two's love was still so magnetically alive and blazing. 🙌🏽😍

gif cred: @msanonships

As we now entered the middle of the miniseries - with trifling Jadis added to the mix you just knew things were only going to get more complicated. Especially because her arrival and threats usher in a very different Rick than the one who was convinced he and Michonne could get away together.

No, now Rick’s sole focus is on getting Michonne out of here alive even if it means without him. And well...we’ll see exactly how a certain Dana Bethune feels about that. 😅

During the first two riveting episodes of TOWL, Richonne spent a good chunk of it apart. From here on out they're together, but also have a lot to navigate to truly feel back together. There's a ton to unpack in these next eps, so y'all with these upcoming breakdowns...

Because TOWL's act two has everything. Humor, heartbreak, hunger, a helicopter hurl...

And most importantly, these next two episodes have a whole lot of Richonne gold. 😌👌🏽

[d34dlysinner]

Said iI'd make another, couldn't resist after listening to Amen. I need some Angstsy ahh shi to live, but with good ending lmao, kings + Lucifer, our lovely butcher devil, sitri, and Zagan. (and anyone else if you feel someone wld work for this lmao) With a mc who was highly religious and devoted to our lord and savior Jesus h Christ, stemming from past loss of a lover. Y'know how people sometimes after loss turn to religion to help get through it. idk brain not braining typing this whole typing am essay for my Paleobiology class lmao. And well, y'know when they meet the reality of heaven and hell it's like.

'Aw shi-' cue internal mental crisis as they find out their faith was a lie, God is dead. And angels want their soul but not for the good reason.

So it's like, the grief starts all over again n'they're just sitting in the corner vibrating ready to claw the next angel they see in 'WHERE TF IS [insert dead partner]' and probably tried to out of sheer gremlin energy. It's like, they're going through the emotions again n'feel like an idiot for believing such things. Y'know musing over the loss all over again, yadda yadda In the end they come to terms n'shi and move on for real for real.

Ik this is a lot but it's a thought I had how things would go on an mc who was really religious and experiences well, that the religion was a lie xD. Bonus Angst points if the religious belief started to help quell the person after a loved ones death. Lol

Ok enough rambling, I need to finish this essay before I get thrown out a window again.

(Hope I interpreted this well- thanks for the ask!! XD keep on brainrotting)

There you were shivering in the corner of a small room as your mind started to race. Pictures of angels and your dead lover flickering through your mind as you started to doubt what reality and truth was. Your eyes pricked as continuous tears poured out. You seemed too deep in your thoughts. Almost to the point where you cancelled everything and everyone around you.

Satan could feel your rage and happily fed of from it. But at the same time he felt useless as he saw how shattered you seemed from learning the truth.

"I know that humans learned from the angels lies, but I promise you some sense of relief during this battle when we cam finally put an end on them...", he said as he wasn't the best to console someone who was as broken as you were right now. He didn't understand how you felt tho.

Beelzebub understood your anger. He wouldn't show it himself, but he was angry too. Of course he wants peace and to relax. This can't happen when there are angels literally hunting him and other demons. He would sit with you and allow you to cry it out before trying to convince you to join him. He promises to aid you to fight the angels. Even when you can't see him.

Mammon stared down at your saddened frame as he stood in front of you in silence. He took some time before trying to speak to you. "If you're sad about them taking away what's yours. Then demand it back from them. Or make them pay.", was all he said. He wanted you to feel determined to take back what was yours. But he had to he honest that it saddened him to see you so greedy for a past lover and not him.

Leviathan looked down at your form. He didn't know why you cried. But he felt as of he should be jealous. Where you crying for another? Or was it for him? It didn't matter at that moment as he said: "I don't know why your crying. But let's stop using time on crying when you could possibly avenge what your crying for by fighting angels." He isn't the best at consoling others. He is someone who likes to do things efficiently.

Lucifer did enjoy the tears that streamed down your face. What he loved even more was knowing that these tears came to be because of the betrayal and anger you felt towards the angels. Yes, he was an ex angel, but he just as any other demon wants and needs to put an end to the torment that the angels put on the demons. "Join us and fight. It's better to seek for some sense of peace than to do nothing in a tiny room. You could help us and put a stop to those who lied.", he says as he referred to the angels.

Andrealphus could only smell revenge. He knew how you felt and tried to convince you to fight with him. He wishes for you to join and help and hoped that it would give you some sense of peace as you go against the thing that ruined your life even more.

Zagan wasn't a man of many words, but that didn't mean that he would wait out with you and listen to you vent. When you were done he would only nod, stand up and reach a hand out to you. "If you hate them so much... please fight against them with us. We're stronger with you at our side...", was all he said as he waited for you to accept his hand.

Sitri heard your sniffles over your heartbeat. It saddened him as he sat next to you and tried to embrace you. He waited it out and was set on protecting you while you vented incase anyone tried to hurt you during this time. Only when you were somewhat calmed down did he dare to speak. "Solomon...", he started referring to your ancestor again. It somewhat made you feel inferior, but for now it didn't matter as you understood that the demons like you also lost someone dear to them because of the angels.

"I hope you're willing to fight at our side. I understand that this might be a huge change for you since you like other humans were misled by the angels. Please, understand that we also need you.", he said as he stood back up, reaching down to you.

Whether they could console you or not. You appreciated that they tried as you yet again see how wrong those lies of the angels were. You understood that like you, those demons also lost things they thought were precious. You accepted their request as you want to atleast have answers and see if you can atleast find some peace with your lost.

[snezus-christ-risen]

Stubborn Things, Part III - Plato Fuerte

Wherein Julieta beats herself for not being perfect, Bruno continues to make himself more miserable than he needs to be, and Agustin is just sort of… living his best life for no reason lol

—

“I hope you’re hungry,” Julieta said, adding another sprinkle of salt to the pot. “It’s almost ready.”

Two recipes down, and Bruno remained undeniably sick. If anything, he seemed to be feeling worse by the minute. He was back to pretending he was fine, which would have been sweet had he been doing it to protect her feelings and not to dodge another round of testing. Julieta offered him several opportunities to lie down in the parlor if he promised to submit to supervision, but his stubborn devotion to conveying the illusion of health kept overruling his instinct for self-preservation.

“It smells fantastic,” Agustín said. “And I bet it will taste even better. I really think you have it this time, mi vida!”

Having finished all the prep work that didn’t involve sharp utensils, her husband was seated across the table from Bruno, pretending to read a copy of La Vorágine that he grabbed off a bookshelf at random. Julieta had tasked him with keeping watch over her brother and, if necessary, intercepting him if he tried to bolt again. Julieta wasn’t sure if he was doing his job well or if Bruno was simply too tired to move.

“Gracias,” she said, grateful for his support but growing weary of his cheerful optimism in light of her terrible track record. “Pero, I’m not worried about the taste or the smell.”

“I am!” Bruno interjected weakly.

“My concern,” she continued, choosing to disregard his unsolicited input, “is that it works.”

“Of course, of course,” said Agustín, finally remembering to turn the page of the book he was supposed to be reading. “I’m just saying, I have a good feeling about this one. They say third time’s a charm, right?”

He threw an expectant look at his brother-in-law, who usually had a lot to say when it came to matters of luck, but this time Bruno had no comment. His head was resting on the table beside an empty cup that stood as a testament to Julieta’s latest failure. The guava and mango juices she had blended together with Isabela’s pelargonium and a dash of aguardiente made for a refreshing morning cocktail, but a woefully ineffective medicine. Bruno claimed to feel better just a few sips in, but then sneezed in short, strangled bursts not long after finishing the concoction. He tried to blame the cooking spices lingering in the air from breakfast, those new plants Isabela had growing just outside the kitchen window, even the minuscule amount of alcohol in the drink, but when Julieta kissed his forehead, it was warmer than the last time she last checked. He muttered an apology that only added to her mounting aggravation. It was her fault, not his, that she couldn’t figure this out.

Now here she was, pouring all of her prayers and frustrations and love for her brother into a pot of ajiaco. It would be cruel to keep him hostage much longer if he didn’t improve after this dish. He hadn’t lifted his head from the table since the juice; the only indication that he was still awake (and alive) was the occasional cough or sniffle, wise-ass remark, and knock knock knocking of his knuckles against the tabletop. Once an annoyance, the repetitive thumping was now a strange comfort, a reassurance that her brother was still here with her.

Julieta was ladeling steaming hot ajiaco between two bowls when she noticed a shift in his breathing. It was subtle, but just obvious enough to someone who knew him as well as she did. When she turned around she found Bruno sitting up but hunched over, gripping his nose between his thumb and forefinger. She couldn’t tell if he sneezed already and was waiting for more to smother into silence, or if he was waiting for a fit to start. Either way, she felt compelled to speak up this time; she could tell that those last sneezes he bottled up left him with a headache, though he refused to admit it.

“Bruno.”

Her tone was just firm enough to pull him from his daze without startling him. He waited a moment, then released his nose from the punishing pressure of his fingertips, huffing sharply and shooting Julieta a look that struck her like a thunderbolt from Pepa. She couldn’t remember the last time her brother looked at her with anything but adoration; whatever this was, she didn’t like it. Her eyes darted to Agustín, seeking backup, and she found him engrossed in the book that he was only supposed to pretend to be reading. She wasn’t surprised or even disappointed; if anything, she was impressed it hadn’t happened sooner. To his credit, he closed the book dutifully upon his wife’s silent request, but not before folding the corner of the page to save his place.

“That really isn’t good for you,” he lectured, adjusting his glasses. “And what a terrible feeling, to waste a sneeze like that. It feels so much better to just let them out, ¿verdad?”

Bruno didn’t seem interested in entertaining Agustín’s musings today. Keeping his fingers curled under his nose, he dropped the bits of leftovers he stashed away from breakfast onto the floor for his rats. They were gathered at his feet, which was odd; normally they were nestled in his pockets or perched on his shoulders. Maybe his fever turned their usual habitat into a inhospitable environment.

“We don’t mean to nag, manito,” Julieta added, drawing his ire back her way. “We just want you to be comfortable.”

What she really wanted was her brother to quit being such a cabezota and stop suppressing a natural reflex like it was some sort of personal failing. She didn’t care if he was annoyed with her, because she was annoyed with him, too. Walking over to the table with the ajiaco - slowly, so as not to spill a single drop of what could have been liquid gold - she watched him paw at his poor nose with increasing aggression. Rather than extinguish it, the rubbing seemed to stoke the lingering embers of irritation back into a roaring flame. Grabbing a clean napkin off the table, he shook it open and brought it up to hover near his face, the cloth fluttering slightly with each trembling exhalation. Julieta decided to hold off on giving him his food and instead stood quietly beside the table, ready to chastise him if he stifled again but hoping he would just listen to his family for once.

Agustín stood up to help her with the bowls, but with an eagerness that suggested he was more excited to start eating than itching to lighten her load. He started to say something, but Julieta bumped him with her hip and gave him a stern look. He seemed to get the hint, but just in case, she shoved one of the bowls into his hands and produced a spoon from her apron pocket. Maybe some food would keep him quiet for a bit.

It didn’t matter anyway, if Bruno’s defeated sigh and deflating posture was any indication. Once again the urge to sneeze strung him along before abandoning him completely, leaving him in a state of bewildered chagrin, but this time it wasn’t Julieta’s fault. She sat down across from him as a plank on the table tilted slightly, sending the salt cellar and bowls of crema, lime halves, and sliced avocado skittering to their end of the table. Bruno turned away from the food to blow his nose, then folded the napkin and clutched it in his fisted hand. He pressed the palm of his other hand against his forehead, eyes squeezing shut. Julieta frowned as he bit into his bottom lip hard enough to leave marks. Definitely a headache.

Tentatively, she pushed his bowl and spoon across the table. Bruno peered out from behind his hand to inspect the offering. His eyes flickered briefly to his sister’s face before settling back on the bowl in front of him.

“Ajiaco?” he asked, squinting.

She gave a quick nod, uncertain if what she was about to say was still true. “Your favorite.”

“Juli,” he said, taking a moment to appreciate her presentation. She felt the knot in her chest loosen when he finally smiled at her. “Gracias. It looks wonderful.”

Agustín indulged in a long whiff from his own bowl and sighed happily. “It smells wonderful.”

“I wish I could smell it,” Bruno said, watching Agustín longingly. “I guess I’ll have to settle for sort of tasting it.”

“I added some red ginger,” Julieta said. “So it should help your headache, even if it doesn’t help with the… everything else.”

Bruno nudged absently at his nose as he studied his bowl. It was filled to the brim, though Julieta wasn’t sure if he had enough of an appetite left to finish it all. He took a deep, resolute breath that, miraculously, did not trigger a coughing fit. He held it in his cheeks and then exhaled slowly, some of the tension leaving his furrowed brow.

“It’s going to work,” he said. “Gus is definitely onto something, because this…” He tapped the edge of the bowl with his spoon for emphasis. “This is the one.”

Just as Julieta was wondering why his voice sounded sort of wonky, Bruno dropped the spoon with a clatter and brought his hands up to rub urgently at his nose. He managed an exasperated “De verdad?!” between hitching breaths before stifling violently into his crumpled napkin, each sneeze sounding itchier and more desperate than the last. Even with the fabric locked in place to muffle the sound, he insisted on holding them in. He kept his nose buried in the napkin for a moment, then dropped his hand to knock against his chair three times, a delayed echo. His shivering exhale and subsequent coughs disrupted the graceful curl of steam rising from his ajiaco.

“Ay, Brunito,” Julieta sighed, unsure of how else to express her frustration and sympathy at the same time. “Salud.”

Bruno sniffled, expression hazy and nostrils flaring slightly, before giving his head a shake. The movement seemed to dispel whatever irritation remained. His hand crept across the table to the salt cellar to grab a pinch of salt, which he threw over his left shoulder. He hesitated before grabbing another and tossing it behind him in one swift motion, as if Julieta and Agustín wouldn’t see his do-over if he moved quickly enough. Then he muttered something to himself, something with the cadence of a prayer that Julieta didn’t recognize. He scooped up some broth, making sure to capture a good sized chunk of potato. His hand shook, causing some of the liquid to splash off the spoon and back into the bowl. All of his certainty from before seemed to evaporate as the moment of truth drew nearer.

“This is the one,” he repeated, as if saying it more would make it so. “This is the one.”

Taking another deep breath, he held it, then released it and took his first bite. He swallowed, wincing, and took another bite. Then another. As the contents of the bowl dwindled, Julieta felt herself growing more apprehensive. She was too nervous to eat any of the ajiaco Agustín kept trying to share with her. Bruno was still sniffling and coughing between spoonfuls, which wasn’t a good sign. As soon as he drained the last of the soup from his bowl Julieta studied his face, waiting for the first sign that he was still ill, that she failed yet again. He just gazed back at her, expression strangely unreadable.

“So,” she said, when he didn’t say anything first. “What’d you think? How do you feel?”

“It was…” The muscles in his jaw were tense as he paused to swallow. His next breaths sounded a little uneasy as he pushed himself to try again. “It wuh-hh! Sorry, J-Juli, I… h’hiihh!”

Oh.

Julieta felt her stomach sink as Bruno crumbled into his napkin with another string of stifled sneezes. They seemed to be coming on with little to no warning now. He whimpered after the last one, pressing his fisted hand into his forehead and gently pounding at the table with the other. It didn’t even help his headache, Julieta realized.

Something about reliving the same failure over and over again despite her best efforts shifted something inside of her. Before she could stop herself, Julieta was getting up from the table and marching towards the stove. Grabbing the handles of the pot, she hoisted it over to the sink and dumped her cooking unceremoniously down the drain. Steam rose in an angry cloud as the lid crashed against the ceramic. Somewhere behind her, Agustín squawked in surprised dismay.

“Mi vida!” he exclaimed. “Que haces?”

Julieta watched the liquid swirl in the basin before it vanished down the drain, leaving behind chunks of potato and shredded chicken. Her cheeks felt hot and her eyes were burning. “It didn’t work,” she said, speaking slowly in an effort to keep her voice steady. “I was so sure I had it this time.”

She pretended to busy herself with cleaning up, but when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her she dropped the act and turned into Agustín’s embrace. Suddenly she felt very silly, getting so upset over something so relatively minor that her husband felt he needed to rush to console her - that was Pepa’s move, not hers. Julieta closed her eyes and tried not to replay the image of the hard work she sent swirling down the drain in one impulsive swoop. She wondered what her mother would say about her wasting perfectly good food.

Except it wasn’t perfect; that was the problem. She mended four twisted ankles this month, reset a foot full of broken toes, and made countless scrapes and bruises vanish with her food, but when it came to helping her brother with one little thing she should have been able to handle, something that should have fallen within the scope of her gift, something she spent most of her life trying to figure out because it didn’t come naturally to her like everything else did, Julieta was completely and utterly imperfect.

“I don’t understand,” she said, her voice muffled against Agustín’s chest. “Why can’t I figure it out, after all this time?”

Agustín squeezed her tighter, then cleared his throat in a very specific way. He only did that when he was going to say something she didn’t want to hear, but needed to.

“I say this with love, corazón,” he said, drawing back to look at her tenderly. “Abuela isn’t the only one who needs to work on relaxing her standards.”

The only thing that stopped her from getting upset with him was suddenly remembering that nobody had eyes on Bruno.

Her poor hermano, who she had somehow forgotten in the midst of her self-pitying tantrum. Her blurry gaze landed on the chair where he had been sitting a moment earlier, empty now except for a rat grooming itself. Julieta sighed, bringing her hand to her forehead and suppressing the urge to pound against it. She opened her mouth, but Agustín beat her to it.

“Miércoles.”

[salsakiyoomi]

Hiyo! congrats on the 1k followers!!

I'm usually a lurker and more active on twt but Ive been easing back into tumblr again to post fandom stuff, theres a niche corner on tumblr where I got comfy in and I happens to find/followed you there! I hope I'll be seeing ur posts around! I want to throw a hat in this event for fun! Thanks for the oppertunity!!

Fandom: Spiderverse/JJK Name: Gato ヾ(•ω•`) About myself: I'm a 5'2/ 160cm, Taurus/Capricorn rising, 24yo bi INTJ-T I'm 88% introverted and I work from home so I don't usually see the sun unless it breaks into my house. I love natural documentary videos and random analyzes videos on yt if they last more than 2 hours (play in bg while I'm working) My taste in music is whatever yt auto play next, I'll listen to J-Rock, Kpop, indie to folk but I will also work in complete silence for 8 hours straight if i forgot to put on anything. ( the grind dont stop )

I'm pretty easy going and I definitely know what I'm doing @ work, I love to show people the rope if needed. Anything kind of socialize outside my job, I'll run out of wits. I've never flirt my entire life and I won't start now ( I might be aroace but its debatable lol)

Ideal type: My type of guy and gal is definitely the no-nonsense one who tell me straight up what they want. I can't say I'll give them the same treatment tho I'm not always honest with myself :))) but I'm deeply devoted and I don't do anything half way.

It's very difficult for me not to challenge any kind of authority figure on sign, I'm allergic to condescending people. Still I find assertive people very……..hot!! (please pair me up with one, itll be so funny)

Season: whenever it rain! Summer, late autumn Favorite trope: Shared room! team up! Hurt/Comfort, maybe a truce? or 'we both stuck between a rock and each other and we might not get out alive'

HONEYMOON MATCHUP WITH : MIGUEL O'HARA

— honeymoon :

– miguel was an asshole, a certified one at that — your first day at hq wasn't very thrilling with him throwing you nasty looks left and right, the worst part is, he didn't actually say anything rude or mean to you, but he wasn't all that friendly either, so when you came up to him with a scowl on your face and demanding that he tells you why he keeps looking at you like you just spilled the milk over, he simply looked you up and down and said something along the lines of 'just get back to work' not really offering much context or explanation before leaving you to head back to his 'office' and from that day on, you were sworn enemies — you couldn't stand his authority figure persona and he couldn't stand your stubborn self because you never abided by his rules, so everyday was to you was a back and forth argument with him, and it didn't help that you'd get paired up with him for alot of missions — talk about bad luck.

– slowly but surely, the two of you eased up to eachother, yeah it took like nine months but it worked out — your arguments started to turn from actual heated conversations to more of a fun back and forth bickering — miguel would deny it any moment you or anyone would ask him about it, say something about how he thinks it's annoying but the small grin on his face when he talks to you doesn't go unnoticed, no matter how much he tries to hide it — yeah, he's a tough shell, closed off and repulsive but he isn't all that bad after all, at least that how you were starting to see him — like hey, he brought you empanadas from the cafeteria with him, he doesn't do that with anybody else.

– soon enough, it's been a year and a half since miguel has known you — you still don't really know him that much but you settled for a truce and you warmed up to eachother. the day came where your walls were broken down and the rain was pouring over your head, seemingly amplifying your bad mood because it felt like such a cliche for it to heavy pour on the day you felt at your worst — but you were soon shielded from the icy cold droplets when an umbrella came over your head, and surely enough it was miguel who was holding it, he threw you a glance, his face the usual blank expression he worse but his eyes were soft, he mumbled something about 'don't want you catching a cold, you have a mission tomorrow' and the rest of the walk to your place was in silence, not the heavy kind, miguel wasn't a talker after all, but you appreciated his presence — no matter how silent it was, it was still comforting.

what's on the radio : art deco, lana del rey

a/n : had to pair your up with miguel after you said you didn't like authority figures 😭 i like a good enemies to lovers — although it's more like office drama but whatever — THE NAME GATO IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT SHSJWJSK, and yes so true the grind don't stop 💪💪 must keep going no matter what's the circumstances are ✊✊ i love miguel sm too also look at the way he's lowkey pouting in the second pic he literally looks >:c ahhhwhee i wanna play with his cheeks 😭 tysm for the request gato, hope this did you justice i also really love your blog <33

[britswriting]

Devotion (20)

Devotion Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

T/W: Talk of rape, domestic abuse, abortions, parental death 

Smut Warnings: Oral sex (f), anal play/fingering, cream pie, name calling (slut, whore), spit play(?) - idk how many warnings to give. I'm not used to this lol

Half-ass edited because it's 10k words (my bad-) and I'm tired and I'm embarrassed of my smut so I don't wanna relive though lolol bye

*Leighton's POV*

I wanted to watch my sister's abuser's life drain from their eyes as my hands wrapped around their neck as I watched the tears pour down her face as she hid herself from the public.

Every bone in my body wanted to find him and tear him into pieces, but my heart wanted to wrap my sister in a big hug and never let her go.

The metal from the chair scraped against the floorboards as I got up, Lexi's head snapping out of her hands to see what I was doing, quickly being met with my arms wrapping around her, pulling her as best as I could into my chest; working around my bump.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that" I whispered against her hair, my hold tight as she shook in my arms, her hot tears landing on my collarbones.

After a few minutes, I could feel the other consumers stare searing my skin, pulling away to grab our things and drag her out of there as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

 "What about my car?" Her voice cracked, the two of us reaching Colby's SUV.

Colby's been using my car lately, having given me his SUV that he got after he totaled his car; telling me, "You have Gemma most of the time" which didn't make sense since we're only two people, but then he listed all the safety features and practically threw the keys at me, claiming "I like cars better anyway" making me think he bought the SUV for me, and not him; but that's a fight for another day.

"We can come back and get it, let's just get out of here. You deserve to breakdown privately; not in front of nosy coffee shop drinkers''

I drove back to my apartment with my little sister crying next to me, profusely apologizing for breaking down, even though I completely understood the mental torture that came with not only having such thing happen to you, but processing it yourself, and sharing it with someone you're close to. It's a lot.

I unlocked the door to the apartment, slipping off my shoes and setting down my bag as I wandered into the kitchen to grab her something to drink, fetching nearby Kleenex and meeting her on the couch.

Once she pulled herself together and the used Kleenex was thrown away, I decided it was best to emotionally bond with her first. 

"I'm sorry that happened to you" I replied quietly, listening to her sniffles as she wiped under her eyes. "I uh, I'm not bringing this up to make it about me, but to let you know I understand part of what you're feeling. I've been raped before" I stated, my tone numb as I tried to close off that part of my brain. Lexi's eyes lifted from the ground, widening as her lips parted, "Not just once.. or twice. I understand how horrific and violating it feels. I don't know what it feels like to have a loved one do that to you. Gabe and I never had a good relationship.. we didn't have what you and Brennen did, and I'm so incredibly sorry that you had to go through that. I'm also so sorry that you had to go through it for so long, and that you were alone. I'm glad you finally told me, and that you think so highly of our relationship that you could share that with me. I just.. I want you to know, I understand; and the reason I never told you, is because you're my baby sister. It isn't that I didn't trust you, or want you to know. It's that my job.. as your older sister, is to protect you from the world. To guide you through life, and I'm very sorry that I've failed to do that for so long" 

"Leighton, you didn't fail me. You told me not to date him" She replied.

"I could've done more" I huffed, picturing Brennen's punch-able face.

"I'm an adult, Leighton. I made a mistake. It's my mess"

"Well it shouldn't have to be your fucking mess!" I snapped, "You shouldn't have to have gone through all this bullshit! You shouldn't have to be put in this place of shitty decision making, and it's bullshit that you can't tell anyone all because of this shitty society! He should've never laid his hands on you, or had non-consensual sex. Lexi, listen to me, and listen to me closely. His shitty actions say nothing about you as a person—"

"I should've left" She interrupted.

My head  shook, "No. His bullshit is not your fault. I don't care if you were in racy lingerie or the baggiest sweatshirt. It isn't your fault that he's an asshole. I'm telling you this to show you I understand, not to put the attention on you or gain sympathy, okay?" I started, Lexi nodding slowly. "Do you remember when I got arrested?" I asked, Lexi's eyes narrowing, nodding. "I was high off my mind and just completely out of it. Of course I didn't comply immediately. I mean, what young girl wants to go to jail?" I chuckled, swallowing the lump that was forming in my throat. "I was put in the police car, hands cuffed behind my back and I ended up being sexually assaulted by the officer in the back. His reasoning? It was because I was another drug filled "prostitute" who needed to take it like she deserved if I was going to walk around down in a tank top and shorts"

"Is that why you stopped wearing that?" Lexi asked quietly and I nodded slowly.

"I wore them when I was pregnant because it was fucking hot out and it was part of my therapy. But me being high and wearing shorts and a tight tank top was not a reason for him to do what he did to me and whatever Brennen told you, or whatever scenarios you're playing through in your head has nothing to do with his horrific actions and I'm so incredibly sorry I couldn't protect you from that"

"I'm sorry you've gone through that" She sniffled, wiping under her eyes, my own head shaking again.

"You don't need to apologize. It's been a while, and I've done my trauma work that I've gotten through a lot of that PTSD feelings. I just want you to know that this doesn't break you forever. If you do the work, as hard as it is, one day you can be with someone again. Don't let Brennen ruin relationships for you. Ruin love and happiness that you can find within other people. If I have let every single time someone has done those things to me stop me from proving them wrong, I would've never had Gemma, or met Colby and now be pregnant with our own baby girl" I smiled, my hands rubbing over my stomach; Lexi's eyes lighting up. 

"It's a girl?" She asked and I nodded, Lexi shooting up off the couch to come hug me. "Congratulations, Leighton! So.... have you thought about names?" She grinned, the twinkle shining bright in her eyes.

"It's definitely been a topic of discussion. Why? Do you have any good ones?" 

"Lexi's pretty great" She grinned, my eyes rolling at how cheesy and cliche that was.

"I only have room for one Lexi in my life" 

"Oh but you have room for two Gemma's?"

"I don't know about you, but I call mom, mom" I teased, smirking before giggling when Lexi's eyes rolled.

Lexi and I talked a bit about my pregnancy and the comparisons I've noticed between Gemma and this baby before she suggested baby names, finally asking the million dollar question, "Whose last name is she going to have?"

"Brock. If I'm going to marry Colby, I'd like her to have his last name. Colby's a lot more involved than Gabriel ever was"

Lexi's eyebrow raised, "You guys are still getting married?" 

My own furrowed in response, "What?"

"I haven't heard anything about a wedding"

"We haven't planned one"

"See"

"See, what?"

"See, this is why I thought you weren't getting married"

"We're engaged? We're moving into a house together? We're having a kid together?" 

"I didn't mean to offend you. I just didn't know you guys were still going through with it"

"Kay, well, you've been preoccupied with breathing trash" I huffed, pushing myself up out of the chair, practically panting as I wobbled on my feet.

Lexi reached forward to stable me, my glare quickly stopping her actions as she muttered, "Just trying to help"

"I'm pregnant. There is a lot of disproportionate weight. I wobble. I'm fine"

I heard the front door click open as I walked into the kitchen, Colby and Gemma's voices bringing a smile to my face up until I heard Colby's odd tone as he greeted my sister.

I quickly moved to stand in the archway of the kitchen, seeing Gemma hugging my sister and Colby giving her a weird look, before looking over at me with a squinted gaze mouthing, "What's she doing here?"

I waved him off, painting a smile on my face as I walked over to greet him, giving him a quick kiss before asking if Gemma was hungry.

"Are you staying for dinner?" I asked Lexi, Gemma immediately pleading, tugging on Lexi's clothes.

The five of us wounded up seated at the kitchen table, Colby scooping dinner onto Gemma's plate whilst I filled her cup with milk.

I felt Lexi's eyes on us both as we moved around the kitchen, bumping into each other a few times making the two of us chuckle as I blamed our unborn child for messing with my depth perception.

Colby and I finally sat down, Colby tucking Gemma's napkin into her shirt making me grin out of amusement.

"Well don't you look proper Gem" I teased.

"Wook silly" Gemma complained, taking the napkin out, throwing it back at Colby who gasped.

"Gemma" My tone disapproving, "We don't throw things. What do you say to Coco?"

 "Sorry, Coco" She mumbled, Colby kissing the top of her head as an  accepted apology.

Dinner felt awkward with Lexi just quietly watching, barely contributing to our table talk.

Colby got Gemma ready for bed as I put leftovers away, Lexi helping me clean up the dishes since it was getting harder to bend over and load the dishwasher.

"Gemma's waiting for a goodnight hug and kiss before letting her lids close" Colby informed, his hand against my back as he moved behind me.

I nodded, drying my hands on the dishrag before making my way to Gemma's bedroom.

"Mommy?" Her little tired voice spoke, melting my heart.

"Hi baby. Coco get you ready for bed?"

"Mhm"

"Have a nice warm bath? Brush your teeth? Nice comfy jammies?" I checked, Gemma nodding as she rolled over in her blankets. "You're getting so big baby" I sighed, carefully sitting down on the floor next to her toddler bed. "Was it nice seeing Auntie Lexi?"

"Yes! Missed her"

"Yeah? Mommy missed her too. You're going to sleep so good for momma, right? Have the best-est dreams ever! So good that you tell me about them in the morning, okay?" I kissed her forehead, Gemma giggling with a nod. "Coco and I will be in our room if you need us, okay? If you hear weird noises, momma gets up to go potty in the middle of the night, okay? Nothing to be scared of. Just your little sister making me have to pee" I reassured her, remembering that toddlers start to enter a fearful period of sleeping in the dark. "Do you want the noise machine on?" I asked, grunting as I got up, feeling a pull in my back as my weight shifted to stabilize my hips.

"Yes, peas"

I clicked it on, listening to the woosh sound before clicking on her night light.

"All good?" I questioned, picking up her dirty clothes with my feet, carefully reaching for them with my hand before tossing them into her hamper.

"Yes!"

"Alright lovebug. You have the best dreams ever, okay? Sleep so well for me so you can have fun at tumbling tomorrow. I love you so much, bug" I smiled, Gemma squeezing her stuffed cow.

"Wove you, momma"

"Love you more, Gemma Lorraine. Sleep well. I'll be in my room if you need me, okay?" I reminded for the last time, Gemma nodding as she shut her eyes, allowing me to slip out, leaving the door cracked so she could wander out if she needed.

"She go down?" Colby asked, myself nodding, taking a seat on the couch where Lexi was. "I'm going to go shower" Colby informed, already walking down the hall before I could reply.

"Thanks for helping clean up. I appreciate it. Things are starting to get a lot harder as this belly grows" I sighed.

"It was no problem. Least I could do. I uh, sorry if this is uh.. crossing a line? But uh, do you regret having Gemma so young? I mean, um.. like.. if you could redo it and still have the same daughter, would you in hindsight want to be older?"

"I think everyone who has kids young would say so. It's really personal preference and what your situation looks like. Obviously, if you're well off and can swing it, I don't see why it would be an issue unless you didn't want kids. Is this because you're expecting, or?" 

"You and Colby just seem like you have it all together and I just.. I can't see myself like this. Having a child depend on me. A family so young.. I just.." she paused.

"Lex, if you don't want it, no one says you have to. There are a lot of choices. If it isn't abortion, there's adoption. If you want to go through the pregnancy, and not have the baby, you can always put it up for adoption"

"But can I really go through life knowing my kid is just out there somewhere possibly one day looking for me?"

"I can't give my opinion here Lex. I didn't go through with that and I'm not saying you have to follow my footsteps, but I didn't see myself having Gemma so young either and even after all we've been through, I love that little bug more than I could've ever thought. That doesn't mean my story will also be yours. It's your body, your life, your choice, Roo. Look, just stay here tonight. It's getting late, we'll get your car tomorrow. Guest room is all yours and we can make your doctor appointment tomorrow. Talk to the professionals. Hear them out. Discuss options, worries etcetera. That's what they're there for"

I said goodnight to Lexi after making sure she had everything she needed, and knew where the dishware, extra toilet paper and spare toothbrushes were before crawling into bed naked.

"Well hello there" Colby grinned, leaning over to kiss me. "Did I miss the memo? Isn't your sister down the hall?"

"Shut up, I need to buy more sleep clothes and my nipples are sensitive , I don't want stuff touching them — You lick or touch them I'll castrate you!" I warned, Colby holding his hands up in defense as I shifted the comforter to sit under my bare chest.

"So you're just going to have your boobs on display and I can't touch?"

"You can look" I grinned, leaning over to plug my phone in before rolling back onto my side so I could breathe. "I'm starting to hit that point where I can't wait to get this girl out of me. I miss laying on my back and being able to breath. Or bend over and not be out of breathe"

"Just a few more months, babe"

"I know" I sighed, my eyes falling shut. "Speaking of, we need to find a new house so I'm not bringing my baby home to no nursery and an apartment filled of boxes"

"You haven't told me where you want to live"

"Lies!" I gasped, my eyes opening again, "I suggested we go back to Minnesota, I just am nervous to pull us away from everyone we know" I frowned.

"Leigh, we've gotta start doing things for ourselves"

"But!" I whined, Colby's head tilting, ready to test me, "Ugh!" I groaned, "I just, your family finally moved closer to us, and we'd be moving right back near where they just  left! And my moms dying and I can't just abandon my dad, and Lexi's finally back and I just... I feel like I'm abandoning everyone"

"Leighton, we can stay here"

"But I don't want to stay here!" I whined, stuffing my face into my pillow before I started to not be able to breath, shifting back, "I don't know what I want. I just don't want to bring my baby home into chaos. I want to do this right"

"Leighton, baby, we've got time. If moving to Minnesota is going to make you happy, then let's start looking at houses there. If anything, we can always move back in with your aunt and uncle until we have a house"

I groaned, wishing I would've pulled my shit together a lot sooner.

The next few days, I felt like I was running around like a chicken with their head cut off as I continued to figure out the housing situation with Colby, having to get in contact with Aunt Melissa about us visiting to go house hunting (She doesn't know the latter though), arguing with my dad about taking my mom off life support, and hurrying to meet Lexi at the hospital as her emotional support system for the chaos that is her being pregnant.

I stayed in the waiting room, wanting to give Lexi privacy to talk about anything she wanted without prying eyes and ears, anxiously awaiting her to come out as I got comments from different expecting moms asking me if I was due around the corner due to my belly size.

Instead of yelling that I'm not due next week, I just smiled and nodded, keeping my thoughts - and hands to myself, exhaling a breath of relief as Lexi walked back into the waiting room over to the front desk.

Once she came back to me, I offered a smile and pushed myself out of the chair, grunting when my hips brushed against the sides.

Stupid hospital chairs.

"Hey! How'd it go?"

"It went.. well. I'm definitely pregnant"

"Is that.. a good thing?" I asked carefully, Lexi sighing. "Bad then? I'm sorry" I apologized, confused when she shook her head.

"Just means I have important decisions to make"

"That you do. Are you coming back to mom and dads?" 

"Yeah. Gotta fight with you about this mom situation"

"Yeah.. I think I'm going to lose the war though" I sighed, praying I didn't let my emotions start to spiral too much. "Are you going to tell mom and dad about the uh.. situation?"

Lexi immediately disagreed, "Not unless I'm keeping it"

~

"Leighton, if you're here to fight with me, it's too late" My dad warned, pouring cereal into a bowl for Gemma.

"Too late?!" My voice shrieked. 

"The dates have been set" he stated, sounding so heartless it was mind boggling.

"Excuse me?"

"October 14th-"

"THAT'S IN A WEEK?!" I shouted, Gemma looking over at me, quickly reminding me little ears are around. "Dad-"

"Leighton. We can't keep prolonging it. She's not getting any better honey"

"Why can't you just keep her on life support?" I argued, my dad sighing.

"Because it's expensive Leighton"

"So, what? Mom isn't worth it?" I scoffed, my dad shooting me a warning look that I've seen one too many times.

"Leighton Rae, your mother is the love of my life. It kills me to do this, but watching her suffer isn't how I wanted things to go. She isn't getting any better. We're only prolonging her pain, and our grief. I hate this just as much as you do, but Leighton, it's happening one day or another. A week gives everyone to stay their goodbyes and for the nurses to prepare things and for me to start calling funeral homes-"

"Funeral homes?! Are you hearing yourself!"

"What's a fune-rel 'ome?" Gemma asked, the words sounding out of place from her little mouth.

"It's a place where family and friends go to show their loved and appreciation for the love ones they can't see anymore" I replied, dancing around the word death.

"Leighton, I'm telling, not asking. I'm hoping you'll act like an adult now that you are one" He raised a brow at me, his face full of disapprovement as I let out a harsh exhale through my nose.

A week wasn't long enough for me to say goodbye. Not only was I not the only one who had to say goodbye, meaning I'd have to share my precious time, but it wasn't welcomed! 

I already felt bad for always being up in her room, away from my own little family, but now with the thoughts of moving away from they'll all need me, I felt insanely selfish.

I laid in my parents bed, my hand grasping my mom's boney one as tears quietly streamed down my face as I tried to memorize this moment. I didn't want to waste a single second. 

I slowly pulled myself together, wiping the salty tears off of my cheeks, jaw, neck and lips before placing my moms hand on my belly, taking in the sight.

She'll never meet my baby.

My little girl will never know her grandmother.

My mother will never see me get married, or move into my first house, or live happily ever after like she wanted. She'll only know me as the mess that has always been my life. Her daughter is a walking talking hurricane, who can't make up her mind to save her life. She'll never see me finally flourish, or watch her grandchildren start to live her life. I feel like I'm losing her before my life ever really began.

"That's your grandbaby, mom" I smiled softly, moving her hand against my stomach. "Maybe she'll kick for us. Little one, can you say hi to Nonna?" I cooed, my own hand caressing the side of my stomach. Every once in a while there would be a flutter, but it wasn't too often that I felt them.

"Mommy! Nonna!" Gemma squealed, running into the room and crawling up onto the bed. 

"And that's your other grandbaby, mom" I giggled, quickly reminding Gemma to be careful. "Want to put your hand on mommy's belly?" I asked, Gemma moving to straddle my leg, placing her palms on my clothed stomach. "Feel silly?" I giggled, Gemma nodding.

"Baby inside?"

"Mhm. Your little sister is in here. You excited to meet her?"

The next few days family members came in and out throughout the days, each night ending with Colby and I sitting with Logan and my dad in their room, helping the night nurse bathe my mom and brush through her hair, rubbing the lotion onto her skin and making sure there were no kinks in her cords.

Lexi stood in the doorway and I quickly slipped out of the room, giving her privacy only to peek in a few hours later, seeing her painting polish on my moms nails, talking to her softly.

"Hey" Colby's soft voice startled me, his hands wrapping around my waist, "Whatcha doing?" 

"Watching"

"Creeping?" He teased, pressing his thumbs into my shoulder blades, working out the tight muscles.

"It just feels weird watching everyone start to get ready to say goodbye. It feels wrong"

"Because it is wrong, Leigh. Your moms still young. You're still young. It isn't time yet, but sadly, we don't get to pick life's timeline" 

"I hate knowing there's a deadline" I shifted in his hold, shoving my face into his chest. "I feel like I'm running out of time. Like I haven't finished the checklist yet"

"What checklist?"

"Ya know, like your life bucket list?"

"Bucket list? For your mom?" His lips twitched slightly, holding back a smirk as I hit his chest.

"You can't make fun of your fiancé who's losing her mom! It's against the rules! And yes, a bucket list pre se. I just, I never imagined getting married without my mom. I never imagined having kids, and my mom not being there whenever I needed her. I just.. I feel like I'm failing"

"You're not failing, baby. You're doing life at your pace. You're not even 30 yet. Losing your mom sooner than you imagined, doesn't make you a failure. It fucking sucks and that's the understatement of the year, but you're far from a failure. We both know how proud she is of you. Getting married won't change that. Buying a house won't change it"

"But.. she won't be there. The only memories I'll have are her absence in such huge milestones of my life—wait-"

"What?"

"I said wait, you asshole!" I laughed, pulling away from him, "Do you have plans, say, two days from now?" I asked, Colby giving me a weird look.

"Plans? You're looking at them"

"Great! So you're free!" 

"What? Leighton Rae, what is going on inside that head of yours?"

"Thoughts on us getting married?" I asked, butterflies swirling in my stomach as my heart started to beat just a little quicker.

"I proposed, didn't I? Or was that just some dream only I had?"

"No, no. You proposed" I wiggled my ring at him. "What if we eloped?"

"Eloped?! Are you out of your damn mind?" He whispered-yelled.

"What? Why? What's wrong with eloping?"

"Since when have you ever wanted to elope?"

"Since my mother is dying!" I harshly whispered back, Colby's head shaking.

"We're not eloping"

"What? Why!"

"Because! We're not speeding along our story all because you're scared"

"But my mom's dying, Colby!"

"I know, but you're not thinking clearly right now"

"So what, your mom can come to our wedding and mine can't?" I glared, Colby taking a deep breath.

"That isn't what I said"

"It's insinuated! I mean, my mom won't be alive anymore so what's the fucking point, huh? As long as Colby and his mom get there happily ever after! Screw Leighton and her hopes and dreams right?" I grumbled, Colby withholding a smirk.

"Are you done yet?"

"No! I mean, what's so wrong with eloping? We can do it in front of my mom! Then she'll have witnessed our wedding, knowing it actually happened! I won't have to live with the fact that she wasn't there—"

"What about our real wedding?" He interrupted. 

"Our real wedding?" 

"Yeah, you know, the one with the dress and tux, and the cake and the flowers. All the extravagant bullshit that's going to milk our bank account. What about that one? She'll still miss out on that one"

"Way to ruin the mood, asshole!" I yelled, shoving past him as best as I could, grousing to myself as I had to slowly walk down the stairs. I could feel him standing behind me, almost mocking me for having to wait for my disruptive outburst to finish as I moved at snail speed down the staircase. "I can feel your smirk" I hissed, Colby chuckling as he replied, "I have no smirk"

"Liar"

"Would I lie to you?" He asked, my hand tightening as I looked over my shoulder.

"Yes"

I walked out to the patio, Colby right behind me, much to my dismay.

"Leighton, can we talk about why you want to elope other than the fact your mom is dying?"

We both sat down on the patio chairs, my feet aching as I stretched out my foot.

"I just.. I don't want to lose her. I don't want her to miss out on these things, and I thought weddings weren't important to you?"

"They weren't"

"Weren't? As in past tense?" I cocked an eyebrow, watching him uncomfortably shift in his chair.

"Mhm"

"What changed?"

He turned to look over at me, "You're joking, right?" 

"What? No. Why?"

"Leighton, fell head over heels in love with you. That tends to change some things"

"Like weddings?" I asked, resisting the urge to pinch myself to find out if I'm dreaming.

"Like weddings."

"You want to have a wedding now?"

"I want to have a wedding now" His cheeks were pink as He looked away from me; the grin on my face made my cheeks hurt as I carefully got out of the car.

"Move forward" I stated, "In the chair" I clarified, Colby giving me a look before shifting forward.

I carefully straddled his thighs, Colby's hands immediately holding my hips, murmuring, "Careful, careful. What are you doing?"

"Straddling my fiancé"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but uh, your cute little bump takes up most of the room. I don't want you to fall off in this small chair"

"Hey!" 

"I said don't take it the wrong way!"

"Yeah, just because you say don't be offended doesn't make it not offensive! If I recall, you made me this way"

"Mhm, and I'm damn proud of it too" He grinned, leaning forward to kiss me.

"You want a wedding" I mumbled against his lips, Colby kissing me again before humming "I do"

"Save it for the wedding" I joked, giggling as he kissed down my jaw to my neck. "No hickies! My dad will murder you! I'll murder you!"

"You're no fun" He pouted.

"That's what happens when you knock them up. They're moody, and grumpy, and sore, and have to look respectable. I can't look respectable with a bruise on my neck from my lover"

"I prefer the term fiancé" He spoke softly.

"Sorry, fiancé" I giggled, finally moving off his lap, starting to get uncomfortable. "So is that a uh, no on the elopement?" I asked, adjusting my shirt back over my bump.

"What will us eloping do for you?"

"It'll give me a memory of us getting married with my mom still alive"

"Will it alter your feelings of her not being there at our actual wedding?" He asked, leaning forward in the chair, his eyes locked on me.

"I don't know" I confessed, "I just, I want a memory of her being there. Her being involved. A bride's mother is supposed to be involved. Now I'll have no one"

"You won't have no one, Leighton"

"But I won't have my mother"

"Will you be upset that we eloped, even if your mom was alive for it and it not be the wedding we now both imagined?" He asked, carefully treading the water that is our future.

"I don't know, Colby. I just know I don't have a lot of time to think about it" 

"I just don't want you to regret such a big decision, Leighton. I don't think rushing this will change your memories or feelings about when the time comes. I strongly think you'll still have wished she was there, rather than just replacing the memory with an impromptu elopement — I'd love to get married to you whenever; I just don't want you to regret anything. I know you wish you could have a longer time with your mom and that everything could go to plan and I'm sorry you're losing her" he apologized, my lower lip becoming sore due to my gnawing as I tried to push down the bubbling emotions.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye" I whimpered, hating the way my voice cracked; the emotion breaking through.

"Do you want a hug?" He asked, opening his arms for me. I hesitated before slowly nodding, walking into his embrace. 

"Sorry for always crying" I pathetically giggled, relaxing into his embrace as I let out a sigh of contentment. "I know it's annoying"

"Babe, if crying is how you process things, then it isn't annoying. I'd rather you cry than bottle it up like I do" He reassured, kissing the top of my head before squeezing me closer to him. "Plus, I think it's justifiable to cry when your mom is dying" he teased, my head lifting from his chest as my smile broadened. 

My hands moved around his neck to pull him closer whilst I stepped onto my tip-toes, pressing my lips into his for a few moments before pulling away.

"Thank you for being here with me; I don't know how'd I'd go through this without you"

The sound of the glass door sliding open caused our heads to turn, Lexi slipping out as she closed it behind her.

"Am I interrupting?" She asked, her tone making my brow furrow.

"No...? What's wrong?"

"I uh, can uh.. we um.. talk? Please?"

Colby tossed me a look as I slowly nodded, Colby excusing himself, entering the house as Lexi took his seat.

"Everything okay?"

"Yes!" She quickly stated before sighing, "No.., I don't know!" She exclaimed, "I just.. it's all happening so fast!" She panicked, a smile tugging at my lips as I watched her freak.

It was like watching my younger self sit right in front of me.

"Lexi?"

"Yeah?"

"Breathe" I exhaled, coaching her through a quick deep breathing exercise. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong?!" She freaked, "Why are you grinning?"

"Because" I chuckled, Lexi huffing.

"Because why? This isn't funny"

"It's a little funny"

"How?!"

"Because you sound just like me" I giggled. "Lex, no one knows what's going on right now. Nothing feels right; it all feels fucked up. It's not just you"

"But I'm pregnant" She whined, my lips pursing as I nodded.

"Yeah, I know how that feels" 

"I don't know what to do" She exhaled, slumping back in the chair.

"About what?"

"About the baby, Brennen, mom, you"

"Me?" My voice peaked.

"Yeah"

"What about me? What did I do?"

"Nothing. I just.." I watched her throat swallow before she quietly whispered, "I'm just like you, aren't I?"

Oh.

I frowned, "Just like me?"

"Pregnant, scared, alone.." she trailed off, my jaw tightening.

"I am not alone" I argued, not having a valid point for the first two.

"The first time" She clarified.

"Okay, well, I figured it out, didn't I? I worked, I got a room, I had the baby, I did the damn thing. Why do you sound like being like me is some sort of shameful confession?"

"I never wanted to be like you" She said quietly, my face burning like her hand slapped me.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want you to be like me either; but here we are. You know, you're not the first scared, alone, young, pregnant woman to ever exist! If you want the baby, you figure it out. If you don't want the baby, there are options. All I've done is try to be helpful towards you, and all you have in return is "I never wanted to be like you"?" I altered my voice, mocking her before crossing my arms over my boobs.

"I just meant I saw you struggle. I saw what happened; I don't want that, Leighton"

"Then there are options! And Lexi, I wasn't just struggling because I had a newborn. There were a lot more factors to the equation than late night feedings and diaper changes sending me for a spiral. You cannot take my suffering at face value for what having a baby at a young age will mean for you. I'm an addict. I struggle with that. I had relationship problems with everyone. I struggled keeping a job, I struggled to pay rent sometimes. Everything was up in the air all the time because I struggled. Day in, day out, I struggled; and I still do. Even the hard days with Gemma, I would never change it. The days I want to relapse, I don't look at her face and think "You're the reason I'm sober". Some days, she's the reason I want to drink, or smoke, or snort something and that's the reality of struggling and having an addiction. You love them to pieces, but sometimes, they're the reason you want something to calm you down. You can have wine at the end of a hard day. You can wind down, relax, and start over tomorrow. I don't get to do that Lexi. My struggle is not the same. You may be pregnant, and we may be sisters, but you don't have the same rocky path I do; or, at least I hope not?" My head tilted, my eyes narrowed as I tried to read her faceless expression.

"I don't" She verified, and I just nodded, knowing that even if she did, the likeness of telling me was slim.

"You need to understand that this child is a lifelong commitment. Whether someone is by your side or not, he or she is yours and I hope that you never have to worry about CPS coming to your door. I hope you never have to call someone to babysit your child for two weeks whilst you're in rehab - but Lexi, if you do, I want that person to be me. I want to be in your corner, whether you have this baby or not. If you want an abortion, I'll be there if you'd like. If you want an adoption, I'll help you look into agencies, if you want to keep it, I'll help you any way I can, but... I don't want you to see that being pregnant at a young age is identical to what I went through. My shit was a completely different beast. It'll be hard, and shit will never make sense, but... Lex, you're not alone.. and" my voice quivered as my eyes filled with tears, "I really.. I really need you.. to hear me.. when I say that, because.. because hearing you're not alone.. when it.. god, sorry" I exhaled, sniffling, taking a deep breath and rolling out my shoulder blades, I tried again, "Hearing you're not alone, when it feels like you against the world.. just.. it feels like you can breathe again" I felt my sinuses start to burn as I withheld the tears from cascading down my face, glancing away out of embarrassment for showcasing my raw emotion; I placed my hand over my chest, "I finally had someone tell me it wasn't just me" feeling my throat swallow the built up emotion as my vision blurred, "And I finally felt like I had a team behind me, and to.. to.." I swallowed again, sniffling, "To have someone in your corner.. to have support? It changes your view on life. On.. on your choices. I.. I wanted to maybe abort G, or give her up.. but I had these voices in my ear telling me I could do it. These people who were down to help whenever I needed, telling me.. telling me that" I sniffled again, wiping under my eye to quickly catch the escaping tear, "Telling me that I wasn't alone, and they.. they were there to help. Gemma wouldn't be with us today if it wasn't for them. I need you to know at the end of the day, whenever you need it, I'm here to help and I love you no matter what choice you make for the baby" the tears finally flowed, my hand struggling to keep up with the cascading emotion as the memories of Sam and Colby played through my head like an old movie on film.

Lexi was quiet as I pulled myself together, licking her lips before looking up at me.

"I feel guilty" She confessed, licking her lips again.

"About?"

"I think.." she paused, glancing down at the concrete for a moment before back up at me, "I don't think I can do this. I don't think I can be pregnant, knowing what it's from. Who it's from. Birth a baby and have them live with the fact that they're a product of such a horrific situation. Look into their eyes and just.. just know what I'm looking at. I'm terrified it will never go away. The thought, the 24/7 replay in my brain that this child is a child of rape, and not love.. feels.. feels so wrong! And.. and.. and volatile! But I feel so guilty for having the word abortion float around in my head because I know that isn't what mom would want. That isn't how I was raised.. and the idea of this baby being babies is terrifying! But every time I look at my stomach, and think about it growing, and giving birth, and raising that baby... all I can think about is how I got here" She spiraled, her shoulders tensing as she sat upright, "I'm losing myself, I'm losing mom, I'm losing my family and my friends and I'm possibly going to lose this baby that I don't even know if I'll regret! 12 weeks is a short amount of time to make such a big decision!" 

"You're not losing yourself, you're just finding a new version" I repeated the words that I've heard one too many times from my therapist. "And Lex, the way you're phrasing possibly aborting the baby tells me you already know you'll regret it; even if you don't know that yet. You can't lose something you've never had. You have one, and if you were okay with willingly giving it up, or away, I don't think you'd be losing it so much as gaining something else instead and hey, you don't want to look like this?" I motioned to my belly, wiggling my hips as I pointed at it before wincing, my hand moving to my back as Lexi laughed at my miserly.

"Yeah, nothing better than tripling your weight, constantly being in pain and always needing to pee" She sarcastically replied, my smile broadening.

"Don't forget the vomiting!"

"Ah, yes! The selling point!" 

We both laughed, my cheeks tight from my smile, "You know, the real selling point is the baby, right? All of this is worth it because you get a baby at the end" 

"Didn't you just tell me your daughter wanted to make you smoke and drink?"

I laughed, "Yes, but the cute I love you's and watching them grow is what I meant! I mean, you've seen G and when she isn't crying or screaming, isn't she just adorable?"

"That feels like a trick question" She snickered, the feelings of butterflies in my stomach made me giggle as I placed my hand over the feeling. "Plus, if I kept the baby, what would I do about Brennen?"

"Just don't tell him. Colby hasn't seen him in forever. Just tell people you don't want him to know" I shrugged, Lexi glaring at me.

"How are you so nonchalant about this?"

"Because if I'm not nonchalant I'll leave to go smash his face in with my fist. Plus, even if you did tell him, doesn't mean he'll stay. This baby is inside of you and as much as it sucks, it is yours whether he pays child support or not" I shrugged again, taking a seat due to my hips starting to hurt.

"Did Gabe pay?"

"Pay what? Child support?" I questioned, Lexi nodding; "At times. He's in med school, so there were times I didn't get it and he's been trying to make up for it. All of it goes towards Gemma and leftover shit stays in a G bank account so if I need it for her when I'm in a pinch, or if she grows up, she has it. It's hers"

Lexi and I watched the sunset over the horizon, pretty oranges and yellows masking the sky above the tall green trees as we discussed baby's and life with a newborn turned toddler. 

It felt so weird to sit in the backyard, talking to my baby sister about her having a baby. I felt like I popped into the middle of the fourth season of a TV show; completely clueless and fumbling the clue card pieces together.

 "Just know, it's your choice to make. You're making the right choice for you right now, not you in the future. If you keep it, great. We're all down to help. You see them all with G. You should know you'll be okay, and if you chose to not have the baby, that's your right now choice. You can't regret it later just because your future changed and hey, maybe you'll never regret it. The future till tell you, but you have to make the smart choice for you right now. Not you in three to five years, or ten years down the line. Forget Brennen and his shitty placement in it. Think about this baby being a baby, and not a reminder of what happened and if you truly can't get over the idea of it, there are always open adoptions" I reminded her, Lexi and I wrapping up due to Gemma's bedtime approaching.

Slipping on Gemma's shoes whilst Colby double checked that we had everything left a buzzing feeling in the back of my mind; an overwhelming thought of leaving Lexi and my mom in time of need washed an immense feeling of guilt all over me as we backed out of the driveway.

"You're quiet" Colby noted, his hand on my knee, squeezing softly.

I could feel his eyes on me as I leaned against the cool glass window, watching the world go by as we drove home.

"Just thinking"

"You're always thinking" he hummed softly, cluing me in on the fact Gemma was falling asleep in the backseat. 

"There's a lot to think about" I replied quietly, hearing him chuckle softly. 

"Want to share with the class?"

Do I tell him Lexi's pregnant? Do I tell him what Brennen did? Is that crossing some sort of sister line?

"Not right now" I chose before I could fully think it through, Colby's questioning gaze burning a hole in the side of my head from his quick glance.

"Is it something bad?" He asked.

Is it?

I mean, yeah.. but.. not for me?

How do I answer this?

"Just complex. It doesn't concern me though, so I don't know if I can share. Lexi has a lot going on right now, and I feel like I'm slowly getting my sister back and I don't want to ruin it by telling you something I shouldn't"

We both quietly did our night time routine.

Colby placed Gemma in bed, me starting the dishwasher and sanitizing the counters before we both met in the bathroom to brush our teeth.

Colby spat out his toothpaste, running his hands under the water before drying them on the towel.

He stared at me for a second through the mirror, discomfort making my muscles tense as I paused brushing my teeth, tiling my head.

"You sure you're alright?" He asked, my eyes squinting before nodding, leaning over to spit out the toothpaste and run the water over the toothbrush.

"I'm fine, Colby. Promise. Well, besides my back murdering me" I chuckled, Colby immediately moving behind me, pushing his thumbs into my sore muscles releasing a relieved moan from me; this hand pushing in on my lower back.

"I've missed the sound of you moaning, it's been a while" He hummed, his lips finding my neck, my head resting back against his chest as I relished in the physical attention.  

"I'm sorry I've been so absent with you" I sighed, "I'm struggling to juggle all these life events that keep getting chucked at me. It doesn't help that everything hurts. I swear this pregnancy is going to murder my body by the end of it"

"You've always struggled unloading some of your plate on someone else. I'm use it, Leigh baby" He snickered, pressing a kiss on my upper back, just below my neck.

"If we go easy on my back, I might be willing to end our celibacy" I watched him through the mirror, biting my lower lip then giggling when his head whipped up with wide eyes.

"You serious?"

"I mean, it has been a while and all your kisses are making my vagina remember just how good it felt having you back on it, and in it" I smiled, my hand finding his, pulling his hand down to my crotch, slipping him inside of my underwear to feel the warmth and wetness accumulate.

I could hear the quiet groan he let out as he melted into my back; his chin resting on my shoulder as his fingers began to play with my crease and folds before spreading me and teasing my center.

I quietly moaned as I felt his middle finger go in a slow circular motion around my opening, desperately wanting him to indulge.

"Fuck, that feels good" I exhaled, my eyes falling shut as he did it again, pathetically panting like a bitch in heat as he toyed with me.

"I've missed this" Colby murmured, his lips finding my neck against, sucking and licking at me.

"I swear if you leave a mark there-" I started to threaten, only to gasp when Colby shoved two fingers into me, my sore, tight muscles contracting and burning a little as he stretched me open.

"God, you're so fucking tight" he groaned, pulling a mewl out of me. "It's been a while since I've stretched this perfect pussy, hasn't it?" he hummed, my head nodding slowly as my body weight fully leaned against his back.

I could feel his erection start to stiffen against my ass, Colby rutting against me softly as he pumped his fingers.

"You are not getting me off by dry humping me, I swear to god if you cum and you're not inside of me- Oooh" I whined, feeling another hand slip under the waistband of my shorts and cup my ass, his finger brushing up and down the crease of my ass, teasing me.

"You want it, baby?" He teased, a slightly louder moan making me bite down hard on my lip, feeling his fingers work me as his thumb brushed against my clit, his other hand squeezing my bare ass. "Should we get rid of these shorts before you wreck them? Hm?" 

"Fuck, Colby" I groaned, his fingers leaving my skin as he pulled down my shorts and underwear, exposing me under the harsh bathroom light. 

"You're so beautiful baby" he cooed, his hand rubbing my ass before slapping it, a gasp leaving my lips as my hips spread for him, my hands grabbing the counter.

"As hot as this is Colby, I've got a bowling ball in here. I can't lean against the counter if you want to spank me. We have to move to the bedroom or it's getting cut short" I informed, feeling my body want to fall against the counter top as my body craved his and the weight of my belly reminded me gravity exists.

Colby grabbed my hand, pulling me into our bedroom, flipping on the side lamp as I carefully crawled onto the bed, Colby placing a few pillows for me to elevate myself before he turned on some music, placing it on the dresser next to the door to try and help drown out our noises.

I leaned on all fours against the pillows, relief on my muscles being a welcomed feeling.

"Comfy?" He asked, myself humming as I rocked on my knees a little. "How sore do you want to be?" He questioned, the bed dipping behind me, the feeling of his bare legs against mine as he leaned forward on my back, moving my shirt up, exposing my skin to him, placing kisses against the skin.

"Nothing extreme. I'm already in pain as it is. Pain isn't pleasure when you're pregnant" I chuckled, shifting slightly so my hands were in front of me, relieving the weight from my elbows.

Colby placed his hand on the middle of my back, slowly moving down to my ass before rubbing the tender skin and spanking me a few more times.

The feeling of his warm breath on the hot skin made me squirm, panting out of need and annoyance of being quiet.

His fingers traced over the crease of my ass before moving down to my vagina, spreading my labia with his fingers, my moan being drowned out by my face in the pillow as he licked at me.

"Oh my god" I groaned, pushing back against him as his tongue lapped at my clit and his fingers slowly pushed back into me, moving in and out at a snail's pace.

"You're getting so wet, baby" He groaned, licking from my opening all the way to my clit, his tongue circling around the sensitive nerves before going back down to my opening.

"Colby!" I shrieked, feeling his tongue press against my asshole. "I— oh my god" I groaned, my cheeks flushing pink as his finger prodded at the tight muscle. 

His finger came back down to my opening, pushing in and doing a circular motion against the muscles, collecting my wetness before pushing back again at the tight ring of muscle holding protest of his entry.

"You're getting so fucking wet, Leighton. You love the idea of me playing with your asshole, don't you baby? Getting all wet and fucked out for me. Looking so fucking pretty and needy as I play with your pulsating holes. Fuck," he hissed,  "You look gorgeous, babe. One second, I'm grabbing the lube" He communicated, abandoning my helpless and needy body.

I heard the bottle pop open, the anticipation growing as my eyes fell shut, awaiting the blissful feeling that was my soon to be husband.

"Ready?" He questioned, my head nodding as I exhaled.

"Yes" I finally answered, catching my breath as I tried to relax for him after repositioning my body, feeling my left hip muscle pull in my back.

Colby's slender, lubed up fingers slowly pushed into my ass; I took deep inhales and exhales as I tried to stay calm, wanting to feel him in me.

His fingers very slowly started to scissor his fingers, opening me up for him.

"It feels weird" I giggled, wiggling slightly, causing me to push back against him, a low grumble leaving my throat before I gasped, "Fuck, that feels good. Wait-" I slowly rocked my hips into him, loving the feeling of his finger moving in and out of me. "God, that's good" I groaned, ignoring his chuckle. "We've got to do this when I'm not pregnant and my knees aren't wanting to chop my head off" I snickered, repositioning again, only to feel Colby's fingers leave me again.

"Flip over, baby"

"I can't lay on my back, Colby"

"Mhm, I know. We'll prop you up so I can make you comfortably cum" He teased, helping me move onto my back, pillows behind me, giving me a better view of him in all his glory.

"You're so fucking hard" I noted, feeling my muscles clench around nothing, "Please, fuck me, Colby" I started to whine, the need becoming unreal.

"Are you turning into a pretty little slut for me? Begging for my cock? It's been so long, hasn't it baby girl" He coaxed, crawling up onto the bed, his hand wrapping around his erection, giving a few tugs before swiping his head through my folds.

"Jesus christ, Colby!" I yelled, the tip of his penis pushing up against my clit.

"Feel good, baby?" He did it again, and again until I was a moaning mess, begging him to enter me and give into my craving.

My hips started to rock against his as he kept hitting my clit, desperate for some sort of relief.

"Please, Colby!" I begged, "I need you inside of me so fucking badly" I cried.

Without any warning, I felt the head of his penis at my opening, pushing my muscles open again for him, welcoming him like a warm hug as I cried out from relief.

"You're so fucking wet, Leighton" He groaned, pumping into me at a slow pace.

"God, you're stretching me out so good" I mewled again, rocking my hips slightly, "Oh my god!" I yelled, Colby pushing in deep, hitting all the right nerves to make my eyes roll back. "Jesus christ!" I panted, "Fuck! Pregnancy sex hits fucking different, oh my god" I groaned, wishing I could ride his cock without my hip muscles burning.

I wanted to be fucking railed and fucked out of my mind, but I knew I couldn't and that pissed me off.

I tried so hard to make it rougher and quicker, but every time I slammed my hips up to meet his, I could feel the tightness and the soreness in my back muscles.

"I need you deep, baby" I whined, tears starting to roll down my face. "I want to ride you so badly. Go so fucking deep- Ahhh!" I moaned out, Colby's fingers entering my ass again. "Oh my god- ohh! Fuck! That feels so good, please don't stop! Oh my god" 

"Cum for me baby. You look so pretty all fucked out and begging. Tears streaming down your face as you plead for me to keep going. I've missed this with you, Leighton. I've missed marking you and reminding you how good we feel together. God, you're dripping down your thighs" He groaned, removing his fingers from my ass, ignoring my protest as he covered his fingers in my arousal, licking them clean with a groan. "Fucking" he thrusted, "Missed" thrusted again. "This"

"Please let me ride you. I need you deep, baby. I need you so fucking deep" I cried, wanting to feel him in my belly.

"Come here baby" His arms went under mine, pulling me towards him before having me move back onto my tummy, "Spread your beautiful thighs for me, Leighton. If you want me deep, I need you open for me. Does anything hurt?" He asked, my hips rocking against the pillows.

"My.. my lower back is.. is sore. My hips.. hips burn a little" I communicated, starting to whine as I continued to rock, wanting to feel him inside of me again; "Fucking worth it though"

"Want this pussy sore too, baby? Want me to pound into you deep and hard? Make you see stars?" He asked, my head nodding as I groaned into the pillow, "Stop moving your hips, Let me do the work" 

I obliged, feeling him push himself back in slowly, resisting the urge to slam back against him.

He started moving slowly again before slowly picking up pace and eventually pounding into me, the sounds of our moans and groans along with our skin slapping together filled the bedroom, drowning out whatever music was playing.

"I'm so fucking close!" I cried out, feeling the perfect amount of stretch that was going to remind me of tonight, tomorrow. "Fuck, it feels so good, Colby!"

"You're so fucking wet, I'm practically slipping out of you" He groaned, "What got you so wet, Leighton? Was it me kissing your skin? Eating you out? Playing with your tight little asshole? Maybe it was that puffy little clit that missed my attention. It reacted so sweetly to me, puffed up real nice and big, letting me know just how fucking ready you were for me. The way this cunt fucking dripped as I lapped at it, pulling me big fucking cock in with need. You're so fucking needy, aren't you baby? Wanting my fucking fingers in your pussy so bad, you just had to fucking have me in the bathroom. Couldn't fucking help yourself, hm, Leighton? Needed me so fucking badly?"

I couldn't reply, moans of ecstasy falling out with no signs of stopping as my stomach clenched, the warmth spreading all over as my muscles tightened around him.

"I'm going to fucking cum! Oh my god!" I cried out.

"Cum, baby. Cum all over me. Fucking drench me. I've missed my messy baby girl. Remind me how much your puffy pussy leaks" he coaxed, slapping my ass, getting a groan from me as my body still. I could feel the wetness drip down to my ass and onto the bed as I cried out, Colby fucking me through my orgasm. 

"Are you close?" I cried out, coming down from my intense orgasm, his cock twitching inside of me before he could even reply.

"So fucking close; gonna fuck my cum into you, remind you how I knocked you up in the first place" he panted, harshly thrusting into my sensitive cunt.

"Want you to fill me up so bad!" I whined, "Want your cum dripping out of me, making a fucking mess all over my thighs. Mark me up baby, leave me drenched in white" I begged, wishing I could watch the way his cum would spill out from the head of his cock into me.

"God, you're such a slut for my cum, aren't you?" He groaned, his eyes falling shut before opening again, finding mine as he stilled hovering over me; the warmth and wetness filling me as he groaned loudly.

I whined, spreading my legs wider, wanting it fucked back into me; only to feel his cock slide out.

"Colby-" I started to complain, only for him to interrupt me.

"You're so fucking full of cum I just fucking fell out, you fucking whore; god I love you" he groaned, swiping his finger through my sensitive folds, showing me our cum mixture.

I stuck my tongue out, awaiting the welcomed substance, only to feel his spit land on my tongue before he swiped his cum down my tongue with his finger, his lips immediately finding mine, shoving his tongue into my mouth, playing with it as I moaned at the feeling. 

He pulled away, both of us breathless; "You look so beautiful, Leighton. I love you" 

"Mm" I moaned, "I love you too. Now fuck your cum back into me. Don't want it go to waste"

* * * * 

This chapter without smut was 7.8k goodnight and goodbye. This is the longest chapter of the entire series I- I didn't want to rob you and uh.. well.. I got carried away 🤪

I always play Into You by Ariana Grande or Body Say by Demi Lovato when I write smut lol #funfact  - What do you think Leigh + Colby would put on for a sex song? lol

We're halfway through this book already O_o

Written on: September 5th, 8th, 11th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 23rd 2023

Published on: September 23rd 2023

Word Count: 10201

Twenty One

[dulcewrites]

For You Always

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (kind of lol)

Summary: you always knew Aemond had a soft spot for you, but you always just assumed it was him wanting to look out for his brother’s wife. Soon you find out that his devotion knows no bounds

Warnings: allusions of sexual assault

A/N: I was inspired by the dynamic between Alicent and Larys (and her and Criston). That dynamic is probably the most interesting to me to watch (plus when Olivia and Matthew are together in scenes it’s like a masterclass in acting. Might be my fav two actors on the show rn). I also just love the idea of Aemond being someone’s guard dog. I plan on writing things from this list. And plan on doing things with a black reader :). But I got inspired and it flowed very easily so I wanted to get it out. I am open to request as well! Please reblog, like, and follow if you enjoy 🫶🏽🫶🏽

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In hindsight, confessing your sadness to Aemond after the incident was a bad idea. But in your defense, it wasn’t intentional. You found yourself crying, trying to make it back to your chambers before anyone spotted you in distress. And there he was.

Whispers was something you had grown used to since arriving in King’s Landing years ago. Whispers about your family back home, whispers about your life now… including whispers about your relationship with Aegon. Most of the time it would roll off your back. Mainly because the rumors themselves were never true. It’s easy to brush it off when there’s no validity.

It wasn’t until one day you overheard two lady’s maids speaking about your husband. Certain words stuck out. Dyana, crying, Aegon, paid off, and moon tea.

You felt sick, physically ill hearing them talk. You had always wondered what happened to Dyana; lamenting on how good she was with Elia, your daughter. When asked if he knew why she was not around anymore, all Aegon gave you was a shrug before changing the subject. But now you understand why. Deep down you knew Aegon was not a good man, but you naively hoped he had changed after the birth of your daughter. His behavior was always questionable, but this was a new low. You wish you could let this roll off your back like the rest. No use in chalking it up to a rumor; you know Aegon too well for that.

You couldn’t help the tears from falling as you turned away. The walk to your chamber felt like forever. Mind racing; you thought about poor Dyana and where she was now, who knew about this, and selfishly you thought about if people thought you knew all along. That you brushed it off because that is what is expected of a lady in your position. Smile and endure. Ignore and push through.

That people thought you were just as cruel as your husband.

It was the tears on your face that made Aemond stop in his tracks. You tried to wipe them away quickly after you spotted him but it was too late. He all but forces you to tell him why you’re in this state. It wasn’t becoming of your station to be crying in the arms of your lord husband’s brother. But there you were in your room, pouring your heart out.

Aemond had always been good to you. His generosity was not something you were expecting when you came into the family. Everyone had responded the way you predicted. Helena was sweet. Queen Alicent seemed indifferent; not exactly warm, but always there if you needed something. The sicker King Viserys grew, the less you saw him. Aegon was doting when he wanted you, awful when he didn’t. Aemond was the odd one out. Completely shocking you with the concern he shows. You had made up in your mind it stemmed from his hatred for Aegon.

That day, Aemond simply rubbed your back and told you he’d handle anything else that happened with Aegon. It must’ve been your frazzled state that led to you taking that comment as sweet rather than ominous.

Silly you.

It felt like the whispers and rumors only got worse after finding out about what happened to Dyana. By the time you had worked up the courage to confront Aegon, another indiscretion made it back to you.

It seems that your husband has an affinity for servants and ladies in waiting. If rumors are true, at least this one is consensual. The name of a servant you know helps Helaena continues to get bandied about.

You can’t help but feel embarrassment and rage flood through your body. He’s one the princes of the storied Targaryen family, a future king if things go the way certain people in the Red Keep want them to. And here he is, not only abusing his power but making a mockery of you in the process.

A part of you wonders if you should go to Alicent. You decide against it; you know how the game is played. No matter how much she may resent his behavior, he will always take precedent over you. Then you think about going to Helaena, but you hated the idea of troubling her with your mess. So there you were, at Aemond’s door with a rant on the tip of your tongue.

It was nice. Getting your feelings out to someone who shared your complicated feelings towards Aegon.

Aemond rarely responds or gives you advice. Just gave you an chance to let it all out, which is something you appreciated. You left his quarters feeling a bit lighter. As light as you could feel with the position you are in.

You spent the rest of the week trying to avoid talking to Aegon, and spend time with Elia and with Helaena.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Helaena’s cryptic language was something you had learned to just go with. Though, you did get an eerie feeling after she said it to you with a concerned look on her kind face.

You tried to push the hurt feelings away, and almost succeeded. Until your lady in waiting came to you one night with a nervous look on her face. Reluctantly, she told you news that she had heard.

You couldn’t hold it any longer the next time you saw Aegon. When the conversation started, you were surprised to hear him speak so openly about his cheating. You had just always expected him to act like the whole castle isn’t talking about it.

“What do you mean you told her she could be your second wife,” you hiss at him, trying to keep your voice low.

He winced and looks down at his feet.

“I don’t even remember saying it myself,” he says meekly. “But she surely remembers it. Won’t let me forget it.”

You scoff, and take good look at him. You think about how your mother’s vision for you, and your own blind ambition has landed you stuck with the biggest idiot ever.

“So let me get this straight,” you walked towards him. “You spend your days drowning yourself in your cups, and disrespecting half of the women in the Red Keep. And now you tell me you’re whispering sweet nothings into her ears so she keeps stroking your ego.. amongst other things. Some couple you two make. You’re stupid enough to say that, and she’s delusional enough to believe you.”

“My lov-“ you hold up hand to stop him.

“You will fix this,” your finger hits his chest. “I can’t even stand to look at you right now.”

You leave the room in a hurry, ignoring his tries to stop you. Where you are going at this hour? You have no idea, but you can’t be in the same rom as Aegon right now. But then you get an idea… the dragon pit.

Vhagar can’t fit in pit but whenever Aemond wants to ride her, he goes there.

You feel a bit silly, going to him to whine about how awful his brother is. But when you find him walking from the pit, the words and emotions just flowed out. Honestly for someone so outwardly cold, Aemond handles you so gently.

“To do that, and right in front of you is an insult.”

You nod in agreement because it is. It shows how much he doesn’t care. How much you carry your relationship with him.

“And the most frustrating part is that I just have to live with it,” you think about Elia, and the pressure there is to have another baby, a boy. “I have to not only face Aegon, but apparently the woman who he chooses lay with. I have to hear the whispers not about him being a disgrace. But about me being so frigid that of course he’d seek warmth from another.”

You run your hands down your face.

“What has my life become?”

Aemond doesn’t reply, just gives you an inquisitive look before nodding to himself. He walks you back to the room.

“Everything will be fine. Trust me,” his tone is so certain. You want to be ask how does he know, but you guess that’s what any person says when they’re comforting someone else.

You take a deep breath. Everything will be fine.

The day felt different. You don’t know why. You went through you typical schedule, most of which revolves around caring for Elia. Despite the off feeling you couldn’t quite put a finger on, the day was reflectively uneventful… until Queen Alicent comes to visit you.

She smiles as she holds Elia.

“How are you my dear,” her voice is soft and measured. The question is simple but it makes you uneasy. If things have made it back to you, they’ve surely made it back to her.

“I’m doing well your Grace,” you put on your best face. “Just a little tired.”

She hums in response.

“That’s good to hear,” she steps closer to you, lowering her voice. “I’m glad you were able to take care of any problems that may have arose.”

You blink at her. She’s clearly talking about Aegon and the servant. You did tell Aegon to fix it, but the quickness is surprising. Plus you assumed he’d come whining to you about it after he had ended things.

“I’m glad to know you can take care of things on your own.” she continues, and your confusion grows.

Didn’t know you had it in you? Take care of things? You truly do not understand what the Queen is saying. Before you can get into it, Ser Arryk knocks saying the King needs Alicent. After she leaves, you hand Elia to your lady in waiting.

You must go to Helaena.

You find her in her chambers, embroidery hoop in hand. The bright smile she greets you with drops when yo ask about her lady in waiting.

“A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation.”

Her voice is somber, and you let out a deep sigh. Who is the flower? She clearly knows something but you wonder if even she can even figure it out herself. There’s no way you can go one of your girls, you’d be tipping your hand. And Aegon never seems to be around when you need him. Then it hits you.

I’ll handle it

Everything will be ok, trust me

It couldn’t be. You try to talk yourself out of the idea races into your mind as you walk to Aemond’s room. You squeeze your eyes shut as you knock on the door. The aloofness of his demeanor only makes you more anxious.

“I don’t even know how to ask this,” you give him a tight, nervous smile once he lets you in. “Or that you would even know the answer.”

He’s sitting in a chair, and tilts his head to the side. You pause for a moment. Collecting your thought; the last thing you want to do is accuse him of something.

“She’s gone,” he replied after silence passes through the room. He sounds bored of the careful dance you’re trying to play.

It’s vague. Gone could mean a lot of things. It could mean Aegon did something right for once, but then again how would Aemond know that before you. You didn’t want her to lose her job. You just wanted the record set straight, and selfishly you didn’t want people questioning your marriage.

“What did you do,” you whisper, suddenly getting worried.

“I did what Aegon will never have the courage to do,” he stands up, and starts walking towards you. “I protected you.”

“Aemond what do-“

“You don’t have to worry about her anymore,” he interrupts you. “We took care of it.”

Your stomach sinks. We took care of it. There’s only one person.. no one thing Aemond could be talking about. Aemond on his own is intimating enough

“I didn’t want her dead,” you look at him with wide eyes.

He doesn’t seem phased by your panic. In fact he gives you a smile, or at least closest thing Aemond does to a smile.

“My future queen wanted something done, so I did it,” he says it as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

He thinks of you as his future queen, you’ve known that for a while. Everything starts and ends with you in his eyes. Any threat to you is a threat to him. You had grown to understand Aemond’s intensity, but this is a lot even for him. The look in his eye makes you know this won’t be a one time thing. That he’s going to go to these lengths whether you like it or not. Haelena’s words ring in your head.

A flower can wilt under love, the same way it wilts under detestation

[marshmallowprotection]

kaittt imagine in that part of the ae where saeran asks us what lesson we learned, mc just says "fall in love with a game developer!" saeran just chuckles and saeyoung looks confused lol

You were enjoying your day curled up with Saeran underneath shady trees. You had shared drinks and candies earlier but now you were just curled up together and enjoying the clouds brollingy. His voice was soft against the sounds of the afternoon cicadas. "So, my love, what lesson did you learn this all this?"

"Falling in love with a game developer just might save your life," you said, solemnly. You were serious when you said it. You were happy he had come into your life because it made you feel like you were where you always wanted to be.

Saeran stared at you for a moment as he tried to gauge if you were trying to make a joke or if you were serious. But, then he started to laugh again. He kissed your cheeks one after the other and brushed his forehead against yours. "Does that mean the lesson that I should have learned is that falling in love with my game tester just might be what saves me?"

"Mhm!"

"Hahaha! I love you, my sweet. I love you more than anything else. I love you so much my heart can't stand to be apart from you. Thank you for being in my life," his sparkling eyes met yours. Even though you were trying to tease him, he didn't see it that way. He thought it was your earnest devotion, and really, you were just happy that he'd said he loved you again.

This was the way that Saeran was, and you'd never ask for him to change. You couldn't tell this man a joke because he'd turned into something where he poured his heart out to you on a silver platter. You felt like the luckiest person alive.

[weelittleweasley]

hopelessly devoted to you (f.w.)

prompt: rejection hurts. but what hurts even more is still being absolutely infatuated with the person who broke your heart. 

pairings: fred weasley x fem! gryffindor reader, george weasley x platonic reader

warnings: heartbreak, crying, language, underage drinking, very angsty, think early 2000s movie

word count: 8k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff​ @harrysweasleys​ @gcdric​ @lumos-barnes​ @whizboingies​ @lumosandnoxwriting​ @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ @c-t-h​ @lol-idk-oops​ @another-lonely-heart-blog​ @starlightweasley​ @parseltongueswriting​ @shilohpug​ @peachypotter​ @spacexcowgirl​ @paintballkid711​ @vogueweasley​ @rogueweasleys​​

It was like pouring salt into an open wound. You forced yourself to look at Fred, how happy he looked as he linked arms with Angelina in the hallway, smiling widely, whispering something into her that made her throw her head back with laughter. You tried to convince yourself that making yourself watch them showed him that you weren’t heartbroken or sad or sorry for yourself when in reality, you were trying to cover up the fact that you were miserable. The wallowing feeling of jealousy and sadness ate away at your stomach lining as you nibbled on your bottom lip, trying to remain composed as they passed you in the corridors.

After they were out of your sightline, you let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in as George places a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t keep beating yourself up about this, (Y/N),” he wraps his arm around your shoulder as you lean into him with a pained groan. “I know it’s been difficult for you, but it’s been two months. No need to dwell on someone like my brother. It’s not worth your precious time, darling,” he tells you as you walk down the halls of the castle, making your way to the Great Hall. 

With a huff, you look up at George who gives you a knowing look. He was right, but at the same time, there was no way he could understand the kind of pain it was to be so heartbroken, but still so head over heels for someone. “I can’t help it, George. It’s not something I can just get over. I didn’t just have a crush on Fred. He felt something too or else what happened that night wouldn’t have happened...” you trail off, the memory of that night playing in your head as you cringed to yourself.

Spirits were high as music blared in the common room. Laughter and celebration was in order. A great quidditch game was just won by the Gryffindor team against Slytherin and that meant a common room party unlike any other. Lee Jordan pushed the couch against the wall, clearing the space for a dance floor as Ron and Harry started pour up stiff cups of Fire Whiskey, Daisyroot Draught, and Gigglewater. 

“Georgie, put on something that people can actually dance to! Enough of the bloody Cotton-Eyed Joe!” Lee groans out as George bursts out into a fit of laughter, changing the song to something more universally enjoyable. “The Macarena is not acceptable either!”

Fred grabs a drink as people filed into the common room behind him, filling up the space quite quickly. Your heart flutters at the sight of Fred, but you bury your face in your cup as you take a swig of whatever liquor Ron had poured for you. “Oh come on, Jordan, the Macarena is a fan favorite!” Fred laughs as you shake your head, Fred dropping his left eye in a wink, making you gulp and avert your eyes as if it were wrong to look at the tall ginger.

Lee rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the boom box. “You both are dickheads, I’ll man the music,” Lee groans before switching the music to ABBA as people cheer out as the music fills the space. “See? People like ABBA. Not the fucking Macarena.”

Soon enough, everyone has a drink in their hand and is on the dance floor, screaming out the lyrics to Mamma Mia so loud that you could barely hear the original music that came from the boom box settled in the corner of the room. Instead of joining the masses on the dance floor, you kept to the side lines, sipping on your drink as you made conversation with Katie and Alicia, laughing at a joke Katie had just told. Every once in a while you would look at the dance floor, watching Fred as he jumped up and down, holding onto his brother and Lee, laughing as the liquid in their cups sloshed around. You smiled to yourself, seeing how happy they all were, especially Fred. The way his dimple-y grin caused a grin to appear on your face as you watched his every move. 

Fred was one of those crushes that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop liking him. You tried distancing yourself, but that only made the feelings grow stronger. And it didn’t help that you were close with his family. Whenever you were with George, Fred had managed to weasel his way into the conversation. If you were with Ron, Fred would always pull you away so you could hang out with “the more exciting Weasley.” No matter what you did, the crush to Fred Weasley stuck. 

You shake away your thoughts as you turned your attention back onto the conversation with Katie and Alicia. Looking down at your cup, you see how empty it was. “I’m gonna grab another drink, anyone want more?” you survey the girls as they shake their heads. You make your way to the drink table, passing the dance floor before reaching the punch bowl. But before you could pour yourself another drink, you feel a pair of hands grab your sides, squeezing them abruptly, making you squeal out. “Oh my days!” you grab your chest as you turn and see it was just Fred. “What the hell is wrong with you,” you slap his arm with a small smile on your lips. 

He laughs, “Why aren’t you on the dance floor? I know you can dance, (Y/N),” he teases you as you roll your eyes. Fred places your cup on the table and grabs your hands, trying to pull you to the dance floor.

“No, no, no,” you groan in protest, pulling away from him. “I’m not dancing, Weasley.”

Fred has a cheeky smile on his face as he gives you a look that screams, Oh come on. “You know you want to,” he sing songs. “Your favorite song is playing too!” he tells you.

Furrowing your brows, you speak, “No, it’s not.” He holds up a finger before the song switches abruptly to Dancing Queen as the crowd cheers out in excitement. You give him a look, knowing that Fred had planned this. “Oh, you cheeky bastard. You can’t play this song and expect me to stay still,” you laugh as Fred joins in, wrapping his arm around you, the two of you running to the dance floor.

The two of you start scream singing the lyrics to the ABBA classic, Fred twirling you on the dance floor into his chest as the two of you rock back and forth to the music. You can’t help but sport the goofiest smile. You couldn’t be happier in this moment. You were in your favorite place with your favorite song playing, dancing with your favorite boy. Fred brought you close to his body, hips moving against yours as your heart rate escalated, face flushed. You would blame it on the dancing even though it was definitely a consequence of your close bodies.

“I’ll give it to you, (Y/L/N),” Fred speaks close to your ear. “You are the dancing queen.”

With a giggle, you reply, “Don’t you forget it, Weasley.”

As the song fades away in the background, the two of you just look at each other, small smiles on both of your lips as you take the other in. Fred’s hair was messy from dancing, but it was still pushed back to show his handsome face and strong features. His lips were curved up in a smile as he looked into your eyes, his big brown eyes filled with tenderness. He looked so happy and a happy Fred was a beautiful one. 

You didn’t even know how long you two spent looking at each other, but it didn’t matter. In this moment, you were the only two people in the common room, the music still blaring as students didn’t stop dancing and singing and laughing. But it was all a blur in the background, Fred your only focus, and you were his. 

It wasn’t until his forehead was pressed against yours that you noticed he was leaning down, pulling your faces closer together. You inhaled sharply through your lips as he made contact with your forehead. “Is this o-”

“Yes,” you cut him off sharply before he waits no longer to press his lips to yours as you melt into Fred completely, pulling his body closer to yours as his hands grab either side of your face, cupping your cheeks. The kiss was everything you had imagined. His lips tasted of sweet cinnamon that warmed up your cheeks and sent tingles down from your head to your toes. Fred’s lips moved gently against yours, his tongue sliding past your parted lips as you started softly snogging on the dance floor. Neither of you cared who watched or didn’t watch, right now this was about the two of you. 

Fred gently pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks as you smiled from ear to ear. He was silent for a moment. But then he didn’t say anything. He just pulled away, removing his hands from your face as you looked at him, a little puzzled. “Freddie?” you speak gently, reaching out for his hand.

But he didn’t let you touch him. He just spoke, “I need to take a step outside for a second.” 

Before you could protest, he dashed through the maze of people and pushed the door to the common room open, disappearing. What just happened? Panic dashes through your veins as you follow him out of the common room and to the stairs. “Fred!” you call out for him as he turns around to see you standing there confused as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

He chuckles, “What’s wrong? (Y/N), I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

Your heart sinks and your mouth falls agape for a moment before you manage to speak, “What?”

“I shouldn’t have kissed you and I’m sorry for putting you in that position. It was wrong of me. You’re my best mate and I just royally fucked things up for us, didn’t I? I don’t want this to change anything between us,” Fred walks towards you, searching your eyes for hope for your friendship.

You smile gently and grab his hands. “Fred,” you start, “It’s not your fault at all, stop apologizing.” He exhaled, relieved. “But...I, um, I want things to change between us,” you confess as Fred gives you a puzzled look. “Fred, I like you. I’ve liked you for so long and when you kissed me I was so thrilled that you felt something too. Even if it was for a second.”

Fred sigh and stutters for a moment, looking down at his feet. “Good Godric,” he speaks just above a whisper as you force him to meet your gaze as you look at him, hopeful that he will reciprocate those feelings. “(Y/N)...” he gives a breathless laugh as you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. This would be his confession. He felt the same too. He had to. Or else he couldn’t have kissed you. “You mean everything to me. You’ve been my closest friend here for so long. But I’m afraid that’s all I see you as. My friend...I’m so sorry. I didn’t know you felt that way about me. I wouldn’t have kissed you if I knew.”

Your heart sinks to your feet as you peel your hands away from him and look at him with complete and utter heartbreak slapped all over your face. Fred immediately feels guilty when he sees your eyes become glassy. He tries to speak for himself but you don’t let him. “I have to go,” you speak breathily before running back into the common room, The Winner Takes It All blaring through the speakers. How fitting.

You couldn’t let anyone see you like this, so you ran straight to the girl’s dormitories, trying to avoid sorry eyes and worried glances. The tears flow freely down your face as you scurry to the stairs, hearing your name being called out by an all too familiar voice. But you don’t let yourself stop. You run up the stairs, away from it all. Away from him.

The night haunted you like some sort of sick joke. George knew how much it bothered you, so he tried his best not to bring it up. But seeing you so upset over something as silly as a crush on Fred made him upset. “Something you surely know about Fred is that is a damned idiot. He does a lot of things he shouldn’t,” George tells you as you lightly laugh. “But you can’t let him get the best of you.” You knew he was right, but you couldn’t help but morn this crush you’ve nurtured for so long. 

And now Fred was able to move on like nothing happened between the two of you. You avoided talking directly to him, rather going through a sibling to talk to him indirectly or just ignoring him when you were in a group setting. But if he talked to you, you put on your brave face and flashed him a smile like nothing was wrong. This only encouraged Fred to move on as well and as a result, Fred was now taking Angelina Johnson to the Yule Ball. 

“I just can’t believe he could bounce back like that though,” you speak as you walk into the Great Hall for lunch. “I mean really? He’s taking Angelina to the Yule Ball, one of our mutual friends, and he expects me to be fine? I don’t know. It just doesn’t sit right with me, Georgie,” you confess as you plop down at the table, letting your head hang in your hands.

Katie gives you a confused look before looking at George. “Is this about-”

“Yes,” George cuts her off as Katie nods her head, sipping her pumpkin juice. “Listen, forget about them, alright? It’s done. It’s over. You’re going to go to the Yule Ball, you’re going to look fucking fantastic, and you’re going to dance your ass off and have the time of your life with your hot date,” George shrugs as if it were a matter of fact.

A short curt laugh escapes your mouth. “Sounds great, George. Only problem is that I don’t have a hot date,” you give him a glare.

He smiles. “Of course you do. It’s me, you git,” he nudges you. You burst out laughing as Katie joins you, the two of you clutching your sides in amusement. “Hey! I make a hot date!” George exclaims over the laughter. “Besides, we have a great time together. We’ll take nice pictures, I’ll dress up for you, I’ll treat you like a proper lady. It’ll be fun. But expect no kisses. None of that will be happening,” he tells you with a shiver as you smack his arm. “It’s nothing against you! You’re just like my sister.”

“Yeah, yeah, fuck off, will ya?” you speak with a small smile as George chuckles, giving you a nudge. “Fine. We’ll go together to the Yule Ball. My dress is winter white, if you care. And please, don’t bring me one of those ugly corsage things.”

George smiles, “Aye-aye captain.” You sigh and start picking at the food on your plate. “Now you’ve got everything you need for the perfect night out. Aren’t you glad you’re going to the ball with me?” he asks as you roll your eyes, mimicking him.

“Who would agree to go to the ball with you?” a voice asks with a sneer grin in their voice. 

Looking up stood Fred with Angelina by his side as they took their seats across the table. Your heart starts beating faster as you just look away and pick at the chips on your plate. George, reading your body language, speaks up for you. Thank Merlin you had a best mate who knew you so well. “(Y/N) is. We’re going as mates, of course, but figured we’d both have the best time that way,” George beams, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you give him a smile.

Fred laughs, “That’s one way of putting it. (Y/N), if you need help getting out of it, blink twice,” he teases you with a grin as you gulp.

“Actually I’m really excited to go with George,” you exhale. “Might as well go with someone who I really care for then go with a date that I need to impress and don’t know that well. I reckon we’ll have a ball,” you wink to George who rolls his eyes, laughing at your awful joke as you smile.

Fred just watches the two of you chuckle together as he slowly nods his head. Katie interjects and speaks, “Reckon you chose the cuter Weasley twin too, (Y/N).”

You look at Katie knowingly and join her laughter as Fred calls out in protest, “Oi! Bell, piss off!” Katie spits a raspberry at him before scooting closer to you as you lean into her side. At least you knew George and Katie would have your backs.

Angelina looks at Fred, linking her arm in his yet again, “I think you’re still cute, Fred.” Her words make your stomach curdle, but you don’t let the expression show on your face. Instead, you continue to eat your food and distract yourself with a conversation with George about what he’ll be wearing to the ball.

The entire time you distract yourself from Fred, you can feel him steal glances at you, monitoring how you spoke to George, throwing your head back as you laughed, grabbing onto his arm as he leaned into you. You and George were mates, nothing more nothing less, don’t get that wrong. But still something about the interaction made Fred jealous for whatever reason. Regardless of how Fred felt, you couldn’t let yourself care. Fred had moved on and it was time for you to move on as well and enjoy a dance with your best friend.

--------------

“A few more pictures and then we can get going. Mum will have a cow if I don’t send her any,” George tells you as Katie groans as she plays photographer. “Oh, quit the bellyaching, Bell. Just two more.”

George stands behind you and places his hands on your hips as you place your hands over his, the two of you smiling as the camera flashes and snaps more pictures of the two of you. “My cheeks hurt, are we done?” you huff.

“Yeah, yeah,” George huffs. “Thanks, Bell,” he tells Katie as the group of you gets ready to leave the common room and head down with the masses to the Ball. 

You run your hands down the front of your dress. The winter white silk clung to every curve of your body, the deep v necklace showing off your smooth skin. It wasn’t everyday that you got this dressed up; you almost felt out of place as you ran your finger through your hair, toying with the style you chose. “I look fine, right?” you ask George as you two link arms, headed to the ball.

George scoffs, “Fine? Fine? You look bloody gorgeous.” You smile fondly at George leaning into his side. “I’ve got the most beautiful girl on my arm, I feel like the luckiest guy in the world,” he nudges your arm as you chuckle. “I’m serious, I’m glad that we can go to the ball together, (Y/N).”

Looking at George with kind eyes, you speak, “I am too, Georgie.” George presses a kiss to your temple as you walk down the stairs, arm in arm. “Ugh, why couldn’t I have a crush on you and not your bloody fucking twin,” you speak through gritted teeth as George laughs.

“Would that be any better?” he looks at you knowingly as you huff. “That’s what I thought. Come on, you, I wanna show you off to Lee,” he giggles excitedly as you roll your eyes.

As you make your descent down the stairs, you scan the room. Everyone was dressed sharply in suits and beautiful ball gowns. Everyone looked phenomenal. And that’s when you saw him.

Perfectly tailored black suit. New. His hair slicked back, his gloved hands running through his hair. His hand held Angelina’s, but his eyes were all on you. You suddenly felt very aware of yourself in the space, but you didn’t let that throw you off balance. Instead, you held your head higher and smiled around at the people by you. But his eyes didn’t move from you. It was like you had him in a trance. A trance he had no intention of breaking.

When you reached the bottom of the stairs, you were greeted by Lee. “Wow,” he speaks. “Absolutely brilliant. You look incredible,” Lee beams. “And you look alright, (Y/L/N),” he teases as you roll your eyes, making George laugh. “I’m joking, you look phenomenal. I don’t know how you managed to get her to agree to go with you.”

George shrugs, “I have a gift, Jordan.”

You give George a look, “A gift for what? Behaving like a moron? In that case, yes, you have a very special gift.”

Almost on cue, a voice speaks from behind you saying, “You look great,” making you turn your head. You meet Fred’s gaze and you give him a soft smile while gulping. There he stood in his suited glory, Angelina clinging onto his arm, looking absolutely breathtaking. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, they made a very attractive couple.

“Thank you. You as well,” you say politely even though he did look absolutely ravishing. “You look lovely, Angie. Your dress is stunning.”

Angelina smiles and thanks you as the four of you just awkwardly stand there in a lull of silence. You look over to George, hoping he would take the hint and diffuse the tension. George notices your panicked stare and clears his throat, “If you don’t mind us, (Y/N) are going to go tear up the dance floor now.” He pulls your hand away from Fred as your eyes linger on him for another moment longer. “That wasn’t awkward at all,” he whispers to you. “In fact, that went better than I thought it would go.”

You sigh, “Don’t remind me. Now enough about them. I don’t want to think about it. I want a glass of punch and I want to dance.”

George squeezes your hand with a giddy smile. “Atta girl. Come on then.”

The entire night, you spent it surrounded by George, Lee, Katie, and Alicia, jumping around to the live music, laughing and smiling. It was your mission to forget about Fred and who he was dancing with, instead paying attention to your friends and how much fun you were having. 

Katie grabbed your hands and pulled you into the lot of students on the dance floor as you twirled her around, making her giggle wildly. The two of you pressed against each other, dancing to the wailing live band as people sang screamed along to the music. You were having the time of your life and Fred became the last thing on your mind, too busy letting the music ripple through your body as you let your hips swing to the music. 

But then the music slows down and over the mic the lead singer says, “Alright everyone. It’s that time of the night to grab that special someone and take it nice and slow.” With that, the band starts playing a slow song and soon everyone is in pairs, smiling at their date with eyes of adoration.

Katie huffs, “Well, that’s no fun, is it?” You laugh and push her arm, teasingly. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder and see a bent at the waist George, offering you his hand. “M’lady,” he teases as you roll your eyes, accepting the extended hand with a smile. “I’ll try my best not to step on your feet.”

“Oof, that will be hard considering you have fat feet,” you tease him as he chuckles. One of George’s hands rests on your lower back as the other holds you hand delicately in his, you resting a hand on his shoulder.

The two of you begin to sway back and forth to the music as you sigh, scanning the ballroom, trying to inconspicuously look for that couple. “Don’t look for them, (Y/N). You know it’ll just make you upset,” George tells you.

But as the words leave his lips, your eyes land on them and your heart sinks into the floor beneath your feet. Angelina is giggling as Fred spins her around and pulls her back into his chest. Fred is chuckling as he holds her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. They looked so happy together and that’s what made you feel so upset. “Too late,” you huff as you watch Fred duck his head down, placing a kiss onto Angelina’s lips as you suck in a breath sharply. He kissed her just as he kissed you that night in the common room.

You turn away from the sight and look directly ahead of you, pretending you saw nothing with a shake of your head, but your eyes were fogging up with tears. “Don’t cry over him,” George squeezes the hand that rests in his. “We didn’t come here for you to cry over a boy. We came here to have fun. Crying isn’t any fun, is it?” he tries to catch your gaze as you give him a sad smile. “I don’t like seeing my best mate upset. Yeah, that’s right. My best mate.”

With a soft laugh, you take a deep breath in and calm yourself down. “You’re right. You’re right. We came here to have fun. I’m perfectly fine. I’m perfectly happy,” you tell George who gives you a reassuring wink as the two of you continue to sway. But with every passing moment, you keep wanting to look at them. What were they doing? Were they still dancing? Were they laughing? Were they kissing? What did Fred do? 

Inevitably giving in, you turn and look at them again and see Angelina resting her head against Fred’s chest as they sway. Her eyes are closed peacefully as she listens the sound of Fred’s heartbeat mixing with the serene music that plays. But Fred on the other hand is looking right back at you. His eyes are fixated on the way his twin brother holds you in his arms, his jaw lightly clenched as you look directly back at him. Your eyes are full of pain that you try to blink away, but Fred knows how you are feeling. There was no place to hide. Fred Weasley knew you too well. “Look away,” George tells you as he follows your line of sight. 

“I can’t,” you manage to sigh out. “He gets the very best of me.” You look at Fred’s eyes and how they stare deep into you. He knew that you wished it was you resting on his chest, and somewhere deep inside he wished the same. You avert your eyes from the boy and turn to George and speak, “Could we go outside? Get some fresh air?”

George nods, “Absolutely. Come on then.” You link your arm with George and start making your way out of the ballroom and away from the happy couples. Away from Fred. 

The two of you make it out to the courtyard that was beautifully decorated with roses and mixed winter flowers as you suck in the cold, crisp air, refreshing your lungs and hot face. The breeze makes your dress bellow in the wind as George leans against the wall as you take a few deep breaths. “Take the time you need,” he tells you.

You turn to George with a kind smile. “I’m sorry I’m pulling you away from the ball. You should be having fun and not worrying about me. Quite the date I am,” you sarcastically laugh as George shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize. You’re not just my date, you’re my friend. I want to make sure that you’re doing okay. That’s my priority. Take the time you need and when you’re ready, we’ll go back in and spike the punch,” he jokes making you laugh. “Eh, why wait,” he shrugs before pulling out a small flask from his jacket pocket.

You laugh, “Of course you brought it with you. Godric, I love that we’re best friends.” George hands you the flask as you take a long drag from it, the warm whiskey trailing down your throat and warming up your chest and stomach. You hand him back the flask with a small grimace, making George chuckle before sipping from it as well. “I fucking hate balls.”

George shakes his head, “Yeah. I’m not too fond of them either. To be quite honest with you, I’d rather go back to the common room and fuck around.”

Your eyes light up. “Can we do that?” George furrows his brows in confusion. “What’s left to do at the ball? Pretend like we’re enjoying ourselves?” you ask. “I know the both of us are just going to drink more and pretend to like the music, so why not just go into the common room and drink more and listen to music we actually like?”

He smiles and shakes his head, “You sure?” You nod your head. “Alright. I’ll go tell Lee and Katie where we’re headed and then we get get out of here.” You smile and George starts walking back inside. “I’ll be back in a flash.”

As George disappears back into the castle, you sigh and look out at the courtyard. It was such a shame. A beautiful night to have a ball, spending a romantic night with someone. It wasn’t that you weren’t having fun with George, because George was always fun to be around, it was just not how you pictured the night going in your head. You pictured yourself to go with someone you fancied, ideally that person was Fred. You imagined that he would have asked you to the ball and you would have danced the night away, ending the night with him asking you to be his. It was a silly daydream though. But still a dream you hoped for none the less.

However, the memory of that night in the common room sat in your stomach like a rock. The feeling of being told that you weren’t what he wanted made you feel ill. You never wanted to feel like a second choice. You wanted someone who wanted you just as badly as you did. But apparently that wasn’t Fred.

“What are you doing out here alone?” 

Without turning around you knew who it was and you wouldn’t dare look at him. Not right now. You had already seen enough of him. “Shouldn’t you be with Angelina?” you snap back, not intending to sound harsh, but the words came out that way regardless of intention.

You start to walk into the courtyard, allowing yourself to become distracting with the beautifully bloomed bouquets of flowers. The sound of Fred’s footsteps follow you into the courtyard as you gulp. “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure that you were alright,” Fred tells you as you roll your eyes. “You’re still my friend, (Y/N). I care about you.”

With a small sarcastic chuckle, you reply, “Right. Good to know you care about me.”

In the distance, the roll of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky. What was once a clear night sky now becomes cloudy. But instead of retreating to the castle, you walk further into the gardens. Fred allowing himself to do the same. “I know that things have been complicated between us, (Y/N), but that doesn’t mean we can’t work this out. We can still be around each other without feeling awkward,” he tries to reason with you, but you simply keep walking away from him. You hear him groan before running ahead of you so he can look at your face. You abruptly stop when he appears in front of you. “Please, (Y/N). I can’t have you walk out of my life. You mean so much to me.”

You look at Fred’s apologetic face, but you don’t buy an ounce of it. No matter how much you wanted to take his hands in yours and tell him that you forgive him because you love him, you fight agains the urge and speak with a scowl, “You should have thought about that before you went along and kissed me.” Fred sighs and scoffs. “You know how I feel about you, Fred. And you’re choosing to pretend like I didn’t tell you. Do you know how uncomfortable that is?” you ask him genuinely.

Another rumble of thunder sounds as you look up at the sky with a groan, walking away from Fred again and deeper into the garden. But rather than Fred giving up, he follows you, chasing you through the maze of flowers. “How do you think I feel seeing you come here with my twin brother? Laughing and dancing and being around him constantly? You think it doesn’t make me uncomfortable?” he asks.

This makes you stop dead in your tracks and spin around to look at him. “You’re joking, right?” you scoff as Fred just looks at you. You huff out a laugh, bewildered that Fred would go so far to suggest that you had a thing for George. As you rub your hands over your face, you feel a drop from the sky hit your skin. Great. “George and I are friends!” you emphasize as Fred rolls his eyes. “You think I’m so calculating and manipulative that I would go after your twin? After you rejected me?” you spit at him.

“I don’t know what you think, (Y/N)! All I know is that when I see you with my brother it...does something to me. And I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it,” Fred pulls at the roots of his hair as you frustratedly groan out. It was if the universe was feeling the same way; another rumble of thunder sounds as more droplets start falling from the dark sky.

You take a daring step towards Fred and say, “Well, I can’t help that your ego is so fragile that you get jealous that I’m having a good time with someone who isn’t you.” Fred rolls his eyes and runs hand over his mouth, shaking his head. You couldn’t believe that the two of you were having this conversation. With a burst of confidence, you yell, “Because you know what, Fred! I can’t keep pining over you! It makes me miserable! I’ve been doing it for so long and it’s exhausting. I can’t keep living like this, it makes me infuriated with myself. And now that I know that I have no chance with you, it’s pointless!” Fred runs his fingers through his hair and opens up his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, “But that night you kissed me...you made me think that we had a chance. A real chance. But it was all a lie, huh, Fred? You just wanted to take me out on a test drive before you committed to me.”

Your words make Fred’s heart sting and it’s evident by the look on his face. Your words were harsh, but it’s what Fred needed to hear. He was trying to string you along still when you didn’t want to be. And that’s when he explodes, throwing his hands in the air, surrendering, “I didn’t mean to kiss you that night in the common room! It was an honest mistake, heat of the moment! You weren’t a test drive, (Y/N)! Who do you think I am?!” he exclaims as you just shake your head. “I didn’t know you liked me! If I had known-”

“If you had known, you what? You would have found out eventually. And what were you going to do? String me along like some lovesick puppy?!” you exclaim, the lump in your throat rising as the rain starts to fall faster. The rain dampens your hair and the silk of your dress starts to absorb it. “Regardless if you knew I liked you or not, you still kissed me, Fred, and you can’t take that back! You kissed me! But instead of facing the problem as what it is, you’ve distracted yourself with someone new,” you protest as you allow the lump in your throat to burst as tears start to fall down your face, mixing with the fresh rain.

“That’s not fair to say,” Fred shakes his head, taking a step closer to you.

“No, what’s not fair is you being mad that I’m trying to move on!” you exclaim now, speaking through your tears, pushing Fred’s damp chest. He stumbles back at you continue, “What’s not fair is you telling me I can’t do what is best for me! What’s not fair is that no matter how much you hurt me or reject me or surround yourself with other women, I’ll still be head over heels for you, Fred Weasley! I’ll still want you even though you don’t want me! I’ll still be hopelessly devoted to you!” you confess with a sob, turning away from him, covering your face with your arms as you inhale shakily.

Fred doesn’t dare move a step closer to you. Instead, he stands there, listening to the rain pour down, hitting the tender Earth, the wetness absorbing into his fresh pressed suit. “What...do you mean?” he asks, genuinely confused.

With an exasperated laugh, you yell out, “I’m a fool! I’m a fool whose willing to sit around and wait for you!” pulling on the roots of your hair, you vomit everything you’ve been holding in. “I’m out of my fucking head, Fred! My mind is screaming to forget about you and move on, but my heart is telling me to not let go of you! You’ve pushed me aside! Completely! And I don’t know what to do! There’s nothing left for me to do!” you scream out in the pouring rain, the two of you completely soaked standing in the garden. Your chest is heaving in the rain as you just stare at Fred who looks at you, so sad and so torn up. But he is silent. For the first time in a long time, Fred Weasley is speechless.

In a more calm voice, you speak out in the garden over the rain, “I will always be foolishly and hopelessly devoted to you. And I’m sorry. So if I can’t let you go, you’ll have to be the one to do it.” Fred is still silent as you scoff, knowing that he can’t find the words he wants to say. He just stands there in the rain, hands in his pockets as you shake your head, pushing past him, through the garden to get back to the castle. 

“(Y/N)!” he calls out as you ignore him, only picking up your pace as you run out of the courtyard and back into the castle. “(Y/N)!”

As you enter the castle, you see George who looks at you confused as to why you were suddenly drenched, but the rumble of thunder behind you answers his question. But that didn’t answer why you were crying. And then Fred runs into the castle, also completely drenched, and George puts together the puzzle pieces. Katie, who stands next to George, gives you a sad look before speaking, “Let’s get you dry.” You run into Katie’s arm, crying as she rubs your back and guides you up the stairs to get back to the common room.

George just stands there, looking at his twin, shaking his head. Fred looks at his twin, not knowing what to do now. Does he chase after you? Does he take care of you? But next to George stands Angelina who looks at him completely confused. Fred sighs, knowing that he’s really gotten himself into trouble. And there was no easy escape out of it. 

Back in the common room, you have changed into cozy pajamas and are adorned with a fuzzy blanket as the fire roars, warming you up from the freezing rain. Katie sits next to you, rubbing your back as you rested your head on her shoulder. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. We can just sit here, have a drink, and listen to all the music you want,” she speaks as you nod against her shoulder. Lee hands Katie a cup to which she hands to you as you take a small sip of. 

Lee turns on the boom box in the corner, gently switching through songs before the intro to Dancing Queen starts playing. The sound makes you sit up straight, reminding you of that same damned night as you speak up, “Change the song.” Lee gives you a confused look before switching the song to something different.

Katie gives you a puzzled look as you pull the blanket around you tighter. “I thought you loved that song.”

“Not anymore,” you sigh. “He ruined that too.”

-------------------

The days had gone by slowly but surely. Each day you separated yourself more and more from Fred and tried to keep interactions limited. But it was all difficult since seeing George meant seeing Fred. No matter what though, you knew that Katie and Alicia had your back, giving your hand a squeeze under the table at the Great Hall as he walked in with George. 

Even though you knew the chances of you and Fred ever happening were down the toilet, you couldn’t help the fact that your heart still fluttered at the sight of him. Your stomach still did somersaults at the mention of his name. When you saw his silhouette in the hall, your heart raced with excitement and anticipation. But you couldn’t let yourself give into him. 

You sat in your room one night, writing in your journal, keeping yourself busy as Alicia rose from her bed and put on her shoes. “I’m going to head down to the common room to meet up with Katie. We’re gonna study in the library. You wanna come?” she asks with a smile. 

“I think I’m going to stay in. Thanks though,” you tell her before she slips out of the room. The door closes behind her as you shut your journal and huff, resting your arms on your shoulders. 

Rising from the bed, you look out of your window and look at the beautiful Scottish scenery that was slowly being covered in snow. It was gorgeous, the green grass being covered in powdery white snow that shimmered in the late afternoon sun as it set in the horizon. You smiled to yourself softly as you watched the snow fall from the sky. 

It brought you back one of the days it snowed three years ago. George had pounded on your door to put on snow shoes and your jacket. He insisted it was packing snow, perfect snow for a snowball fight. Of course, you had gotten ready in a flash, you, the twins, Katie, and Alicia all running outside of the castle to hurl snowballs at each other, laughing and squealing as the cold snow hit your skin. You remember Fred sneaking up behind you and dumping a chunk of snow down your shirt as you yelped out before smacking him with a snowball as he cackled. With a sneaky smile, you jumped on his back and did the same, shoving a snowball down his shirt as he yelled out, the cold snow melting against his warm skin. “Oh, you’ll pay for this one, (Y/L/N),” he called as you ran away from him with a giggle.

The memory made you smile, but was soon interrupted by the sound of pulsating music coming from what sounded like the common room. “What the hell?” you whisper to yourself as you slowly start to register the music as ABBA. “Good Godric,” you huff as you realize that Dancing Queen is the song being blared from the common room. You angrily slip on a pair of trainers before opening the door and making your way down the stairs. “Ever hear of the silencing spell?” you grumble.

As you descend the stairs, you start to call out, “Oi! Some people are trying to study! Would you knock it off?” 

But as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you stop in your tracks as Fred stands in the middle of the common room, the boom box blaring ABBA, in his hands, a hand picked bouquet of the flowers from the courtyard. The same ones from the Yule Ball. Your eyes meet Fred’s as he turns off the boom box. “Fred,” you speak quietly.

“Hey,” he smiles at you. “I, um, I want to make a grand romantic gesture like they do in those muggle movies. I don’t know how successful the execution was. But it’s the thought that counts, right?” he gives a shaky laugh as you gulp, looking at him puzzled as to what this all was. Fred inhales shakily before speaking, “Angelina and I are over.” Your eyes widen and your heart stops. “Look, (Y/N). I haven’t been able to sleep since the Yule Ball. And I know that what I said to you that night was so uncalled for and so childish and stupid of me and I will forever be sorry for it. But what you said. About being hopelessly devoted to me. That keeps playing in my head on repeat.” You fold your arms across your chest and awkwardly shift your balance, trying to stay calm at his words. “And you said, since you can’t get over me, that I’ll have to do it. But truth is, (Y/N), there is no getting over you,” he sighs with a hopeful smile as you look up at him, heart beating against your rib cage. “I’m not letting go of you. I’m holding onto the very end of it all because you’re the one that I want. I want you and you only. And it took almost losing you to realize that. And I’m a dickhead for not realizing it earlier, but I’m just hoping that there is a part of you that still wants me,” he tells you as you look at his trembling hands, a small smile forming on your face. 

You walk towards him slowly until you are face to face with Fred, looking into his worried, but hopeful eyes. You smile and pluck the bouquet from his hands as he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Nice flowers, Weasley,” you tease him as he smiles. 

Fred puts one hand on your hip, pulling you close to him as he cups your cheek with the other hand. “I’m not saying we need to dive into things right now, if you want to take things slowly, then I’m more than happy to do that,” he tells you as you sigh. “I want to prove to you that I will be completely devoted to you, angel. I want to prove that I’m not going anywhere. I can’t hide it anymore. I am devoted to you.”

A goofy grin appears on your face as you give into Fred’s touch with a sigh. “Freddie, I do want to take things one day at a time,” you tell him as he shakes his head, still overjoyed at the thought that you would still have him. A small giggle escapes your lips. “You are quite adorable when you’re excited,” you tell him as he rolls his eyes. “I’m out of my head for you, Weasley.”

Fred pulls you impossibly closer to him as he sighs, “I’m head over heels for you, my darling.” And slowly, Fred presses his lips against yours as you melt into his touch. For once, things felt right.

[buckys-little-hoe]

bad idea | Pietro x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Pietro x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was a bad idea. You should have never played with fire but maybe you like to get burned.

Warnings: It has a bit Smut, so there are vaginas, penises and butts. Mention of a knife. Reader drinking Alcohol. Angsty. Paprikash.

A/N: I just couldn’t get myself to write something longer, I hope you guys forgive me. Also I haven’t read over it yet but wanted to publish it. So there may be mistakes (Like always lol)

-

“Shut up.”, you groan and turn around. But it’s not possible to concentrate on your file if that dumbass always bothers you. You don’t even know why he does that, you never did anything to him, which is a wonder considering how much you like to fool around. But he… He was different, because he didn’t fool around, he straight up started a war without any reason. 

No matter where you were, he was always around, making nasty comments about you that made your blood boil. Saying that you were just another pretty face, not even knowing what you are capable of. It is nerve wracking. You just always hold back. You are an Avenger because you wanna do the right thing, not because you need to prove something to someone. So you always bite your lip, acting like you don’t care even though deep down you do. “What are you trying to do anyway? Poison us?”, he asks with his dumb accent that makes you swoon. It really shouldn’t. Pietro is an ass, he has a loud mouth, always stating his opinion - which would be good, if it wouldn’t be always something negative about you. Truth be told, he has a loud mouth but he knows how to best use it. For some reason you lay under him almost every night and for some other reason he doesn’t want others to know, which is why he talks about you so badly. And it works. He probably doesn’t want them to know because everyone sees you as the innocent, naive little girl. If they’d know, they would probably kill him. Especially Tony, Bucky and Steve seem to see you as someone that needs protection, just because they know how guys tick. And maybe they are right, because Pietro treats you like shit outside of his room. But you love it, the roughness, the tension just everything. And you’d do anything for the amazing Sex, even acting like you despise your secret lover. “I thought you knew better, Maximoff. I’d only poison you.” You smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Of course, prinţesă.”, he answers sarcastically and reaches for the wooden spoon. You slap his hand away. “Don’t you dare.”, you say softly but angriness sparkles in your eyes. He just puts his hands up, grins and backs slowly away, only to bump into Wanda. “Oh sorry, Wanda.” He swallows and leaves the kitchen. “Is he doing it again?”, she asks and you adore her sweetness. She found out about you two pretty quickly. How couldn’t she? Always reading other people's thoughts, like c’mon, where’s the fun in that? She also learned pretty quickly that there is no way to talk you out of this. Not when you made up your mind already. You’re really stubborn. “Yup. Do you wanna taste it?”, you reply with a shrug, not wanting to show how bad it makes you feel. “Sure!” The red haired girl smiles and takes a spoon. She takes a bit of your creation and tastes it. “Mhhhm. Maybe some more Paprikash.” She gives you her advice and you nod. “Good idea, Wanda.” So you add more.

-

Soft moans escape your parted lips as he leaves your mouth to trail kisses down your body. “Such pretty noises for me, prinţesă.”, he mumbles, his accent even heavier. You automatically press your thighs together to release some friction, but he parts them with only one hand. “Please…”, you whisper, desperately for his touch. You’d take anything he would give to you. “You’re so needy, Y/N.” He grins while falling on his knees. He puts one of your legs over his shoulder and softly kisses your covered heat. You gasp and pull on a few silver strands of hair. “Did I say you’re allowed to touch me?”, he says sternly. You shake your head. “No… You did not.” He stands up again and grips your jaw. “Stupid little thing. Forgetting the rules.”, he grumbles. You look into his eyes, trying to find an answer for all of this, but is there even one? “Wanted to make you a little gift, but you don’t deserve it…” He harshly pulls on your hair, turns you around and bends you over his desk. Pens are pressing into your skin and it hurts but you like it. You love it. You can feel his hand lingering on your waist, while the other one is tangled in your hair. “You’re gonna come all over my cock, huh? Because you’re my little cockslut, right Y/N?’, he asks, slightly rubbing his covered erection over your wet pussy. “Fuck…”, you mumble, almost drooling on the wood. “Fuck!”, you now shriek when he slaps your ass harshly. “I want an answer, prinţesă.” “Yes, I am your cockslut, Pietro!”, you answer and he softly rubs over his handmark on your ass. “Good girl.” And when he pulls your soaked panties to the side you quickly hold on to the edge of the desk. “Gonna fill you up so good.”, he murmurs and grinds down on you. You moan at the feeling of his bulge, covered in jeans. 

-

The next morning you stand in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the team, completely forgetting the hand marks on your neck. Normally you’d cover them with your hair but today you forget and put your hair up in a messy bun. “I’m hopelessly devoted to you.”, you sing quietly to the tune that comes out of your headphones, being completely oblivious to your friends standing in the doorway, discussing the mark. “She’s a grown ass woman, Tony.”, Natasha sighs, trying to defend you. “But what if it came from a fight or something?”, Steve says concerned. Wanda raises a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You do know that she is capable of defending herself?” You slowly sink your head, one headphone hanging in your shirt now. “We know, Wanda. It’s just horrifying to think that someone would touch her like that.” Bucky interferes now.  “Maybe she just likes rough Sex.”, Natasha says sternly, hoping that the discussion would end now. “As if anyone would touch her. At least not without disinfecting every two seconds.”, Pietro jokes and your heart drops. That stung. Secretly you grab a bottle of wine, knowing exactly what to do. You let the knife fall into the sink and walk to your bathroom, not turning around once. Wanda tries to walk after you but you hurl her back with your powers. You stopped caring, only wanting to numb the pain. So you lock the door, sit down in the bathtub and open the bottle, pouring everything down your throat. You let your head fall onto the edge, directly glancing into the mirror on the ceiling. Your nose is red and tears glisten in your eyes. You just let them roll down, knowing that this isn’t the first time, but it’ll definitely be the last time your heart got broken.

[selfproducingfanfictionauthor]

BTS scenario: Yoongi finds you after 1,871 days (1)

Summary: It takes 1,871 days for Yoongi to find you. Five years, one month, and four days. He’s turned over every house in your village, every pack in your province, and chased your family to every distant home you have before arriving to a quaint apartment in the middle of Seoul. Warnings/Notes: The continuation to Yoongi’s part in this scenario drabble. Please read because it might not sense if you don’t lol. No warnings as of now. 

Word Count: 1,500+ words READ PART TWO HERE

It takes 1,871 days for Yoongi to find you.

Five years, one month, and four days. He’s turned over every house in your village, every pack in your province, and chased your family to every distant home you have before arriving to a quaint apartment in the middle of Seoul.

Inside the car and behind the tinted windows, Yoongi stares up to your apartment. It’s small, but it comes with a balcony where clothes hang to dry. He recognizes a familiar red blouse, and a blue jumper.

What he doesn’t recognize are these: a small pair of shorts, a school uniform, and a plain shirt - all in a size of perfect for a child.

1,871 days is a long time but you split it like this: the time before Yongho and the time after Yongho.

It didn’t take long for you to leave the pack after that night with Yoongi. You knew then that if you drag your feet, you’ll never be able to leave. So, with your family’s promise and blessing, you packed your bags, your savings, and your heart and boarded the next plane out of the country.

You didn’t think Yoongi would look for you (but you hoped, desperately, sometimes even too much) but still, you took serious precautions. Running away with an alpha’s child is not a slight offense regardless of the reason.

With no family and no friends, you hunkered down in the outskirts of Taipei. You watched summer turn to fall, and then by winter, your arms are warmed by the small bundle of joy that is your son.

Yongho is a precious boy, with your nose and lips, and Yoongi’s feline eyes. He’s curious, energetic, and affectionate, and not a day goes by that you’re not thankful for his presence.

When he turned three, and with no new news of Yoongi coming from your family, you opted to return to your homeland to finish your post-graduate studies. You never planned on hiding Yongho from his father forever, but for years after you left, your family urged you not to reveal yourself.

The pack has splintered, stay hidden until everything settles. They are invoking the old law.

And so you did, however, now, circumstances have changed.

“Yongho, I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Yoongi watches a few steps behind you as you kneel down to your child’s height. Even with your crouching form, he still couldn’t see his son’s features. He’s small for his age, he muses, just like he was in his youth.

Yoongi hears a sound of high-pitched approval from his child, before your lips curve into a familiar smile.

“Good,” you say, “Why don’t you change clothes and then you can join us in the kitchen?”

The little boy scampers away with a giggle and you silently turn to Yoongi, leading him to the kitchen.

Your apartment isn’t small, but it’s not large either. The kitchen is quaint with herbs growing on the small window by the sink. Yoongi smells the leftover scents of bacon, milk, and eggs from the air mixed with the tea you placed in front of him.

For a while, it’s silent and Yoongi takes care to observe you.

It’s been five years but somehow, the difference startles him. Though your features remained the same, there’s a certain hardness to it now, like a polished sword - a calm protective air.

“Mama! I’m ready!”

Your scent immediately spikes with warmth as you hear your son’s steps down the stairs. You turn in your chair, catching him so readily in your arms.

“I combed my hair too, see?” Yongho peers up to you with a smile, one of his front teeth missing. Smiling fondly, you touch his hair lightly. “I see that, my love, good job.”

Yongho grins before turning and glancing at the man with his eyes, sitting at the other end of your dining table. His smile wobbles at the seriousness in the man’s face but he perseveres. He’s a guest, mama said.

Seeing that Yoongi has caught your son’s attention, you clear your throat. You’ve never lied about your son’s father ever since he first asked about it when he was three, and so this conversation shouldn’t be hard.

“Yongho, this is Yoongi, your father.”

The secondary gender’s characteristics manifests early into puberty. However, with the advancement of science and technology, people have found a way to determine an individual’s secondary gender as early as they’re 6 months old.

You tried avoiding these tests for Yongho to give him a shot at a regular, unburdened childhood but it became unavoidable when you tried to enroll him to his first pre-school class.

It had taken all of your family’s dwindling connections to scrub the records clean but even that isn’t enough to keep the news from reaching the elders ears.

Your son, little Y/L/N Yongho, is the rarest of them all - a male omega.

And so you called Yoongi. It’s less of him finding you, and more of you allowing yourself to be found. With nothing left to possibly do, you reached out to the only one you think can help.

Things have settled quite quickly, your son is young, forgiving and eager. At the sight of his father, he quickly warmed up and you watched Yoongi struggle faintly at the overwhelming energy of your pup.

They spent the whole day in his room, watching movie after movie, and playing with every toy Yongho owns. He even showed his father his drawings, most of which were of the town you lived in Taiwan.

“So that’s where you went.” Yoongi observes, finger touching the crayon drawing of you and Yongho making pineapple cakes.

The sun has already set and Yongho’s knocked out in his room. The two of you are once again across each other, on the other sides of your mahogany kitchen table.

“Yes,” you respond calmly, “We stayed there for three years.”

Yoongi breathes, closes his eyes and tries not to think of you, heavily pregnant and alone. There’s time to discuss the past, but that’s not today. Still, he couldn’t help the bitterness seep into his voice, not after he’s known what he missed for five years.

A son, a beautiful son.

“Had I known you’re craving pineapple cakes, we would’ve sent for it.”

I looked for you, he wants to say, I nearly went mad, looking for you.

You let out a pained chuckle, “Funny. I actually couldn’t stand it when I was pregnant. Yongho loves them though.”

“Why am I here?” Yoongi cuts, his alpha rearing its head. That’s our blood she hid, it snarls, our seed, our son - she took him away!

Wordlessly, you took out a red envelope from under your seat. The familiar seal of the pack elders broken into two. You slide it towards Yoongi and watch as he reads it contents.

You watch as his eyes grow sharper and his jaw clench reading the request of the elders. He too, has changed, you observe. The wild energy you’ve associated with him is gone, perhaps veiled under the surface.

After all, an omega’s chosen alpha should be a man of discipline.

“They can’t do this,” Yoongi grits out. “It’s against the law to take a child from their family.”

You shake your head, nights poured over the texts of your youth heavy on your mind, “The pack only recognizes families of mated individuals.”

Yoongi’s eyes flicker at your unmarked neck and his alpha curls into himself. Unmarked. Our son’s mother is unmarked, it whimpers. Before he could speak, you continue on.

“I’ve read the books, and sought advice from the Wong pack of Taipei, there are two ways to avoid this—“

Marriage, Yoongi thinks, and the box in his pocket suddenly weighs a ton. He’s carried it around for five years, hoping to find you. 

“—but since mating is out of question—“ a flash of the old you passes in your eyes, and Yoongi opens his mouth to protest, but you don’t stop.

“— I’ve invoked the ancient law.” You pause, taking a deep breathe. “A month from now, I’ll be battling the primary alpha of the pack for the custody of our child.”

Yoongi gasps. The primary alpha… is Jeon Jungkook, one of their strongest and most devoted to the omega. He’ll tear you apart if she so asks.

Yoongi startles when you push your chair back, standing suddenly in front of him. Your eyes are brimming with unshed tears, but your back is straight, as you kneel down- your forehead to the ground, a few inches from his feet.

“Min Yoongi, alpha of the Min family, father of my son, my former betrothed — for all that we were and we cannot be, I beseech you.”

Yoongi’s alpha is snarling inside his head, confused, scared, angry at your thoughtless decision and his own thoughtlessness that lead you here. It’s a visceral reaction - an alpha doesn’t bow to another alpha, but here you are.  Everything for your son. 

“If I lose, take our son. He needs your name.”

END NOTES: Well, this got out of hand. There’s a lot unsaid between these two and a lot of time passed by between the them in the drabble and this one. Let me know what you think! I’m thinking of where to bring the other hyungline members’ plotlines still.  Hearts are great but comments and reblogs will reach a lot more readers. Let’s spread the love!  Should I continue Yoongi’s story? What do you think will happen? TAG LIST: @justmewondering-recs @cloudbuffalo @blushingatyou @aroseharder @neverthefirstchoice @xanny91 @sugaaddiction @flirtygerty​ @darkskin-buttercup​

[woniepop]

HEESUNG WITH A VOLLEYBALL PLAYER

Request: Hi !! Can I request where y/n is a very serious indoor and beach volleyball player and is dating Heesung ?? You can do whatever you want with this !!! And or if you do reactions could you do smth similar where y/n is too busy with volleyball or any sport and how the boyz would react ? (Enha) THANK YOU IM SO SORRY @whydowelove

Pairing: Heesung x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: brief mentions of bruises

a/n: LOL DONT BE SORRY literally all of my haikyuu dreams are being poured out into one heesung hc

- being a very serious volleyball player, you’ve devoted your whole life to your sport

- heesung is high key so proud of you

- like you’re literally so so hardworking

- he loves to see you do anything with your passion for volleyball

- he always makes sure to remind you to wash your knee pads

- and if you get bruises on your arms or legs he’ll always kiss the new ones

- tries his best to come to all of your games and cheer you on

- sometimes he helps you practice

- like passing you the ball to help with serves or bumps

- conditions with you sometimes so you do feel alone

- always brings you a drink after practices or games

- but if you overwork yourself he’s get mad and petty

- “no don’t kiss me. Don’t you wanna practice more?? Go ahead 😤”

- when you’re too busy he’d literally cook you a meal or make you a drink

- and then give it to you after you’re done

- whenever you win games he’d always take you on a date to congratulate you

- he’d ask you to teach him volleyball but he’s absolutely terrible at it

- watches you do your nails all the time cause you have to keep them short

- asks you to do his nails too sometimes

- massages you whenever you feel sore

- before games tho he’d hype you up so much

- hugs you until the very second you have to go

- HED PROBABLY MAKE A SIGN FOR YOU

- we love him 10/10

[the-sunlit-earth]

Your Morrowind graphics look sooo beautiful! Do you have a list of the mods you used? I'd really appreciate it if you could share it!

Sure! I'd be happy to share my setup =)

My modlist is cobbled together from various modding guides, suggestions by friends who've played Morrowind, and my own personal preferences as I've played and come across things I felt like changing (like the pond scum lol!).

I tried to leave out most mods that had zero to do with Graphics/changes you can see in the world, and I also tried to keep my descriptions short, though if you were only asking for a simple load order then I apologize, oops!

The Engine

MGE XE (this is absolutely vital for those distant views/awesome light and water shaders and other features!)

Morrowind Code Patch (needed for bump/reflection maps to look right!)

Meshes/Textures/Overhauls

Morrowind Optimization Patch (improves performance/fixes some mesh errors!)

Patch for Purists (squashes so many bugs while avoiding unnecessary changes!)

Intelligent Textures (full AI upscaled/hand-edited texture pack of the game, excellent as a base if you plan to add on more targeted replacers later!)

Enhanced Water Shader for MGE XE--OR--Krokantor's Enhanced Water Shader Updated: (depends on which version of MGE XE you're using; if 0.13.0 you'll want the Updated version, and if earlier you need the older one. 3 shades of water to choose from; improved caustics, foam, ripples, underwater effects; and no more weird immersion-breaking moment when you would previously tilt the camera just beneath the surface and it would suddenly be perfectly clear. Absolutely gorgeous water!)

Animation Compilation-Hand to Hand Improved Without Almalexia Spellcasting (idk if this counts, but it does fix the Visual of that weird vanilla running animation!)

Better Bodies and Westly's Pluginless Replacer (a friend told me to get Robert's bodies, but BB is also very good and seems to be the most widely used + many mods need it, like Julan!)

Pluginless Khajiit Head pack (prettier kitties!)

Improved Argonians (better looking lizard-friends!)

Children of Morrowind (adds realism by having kids running around your towns!)

Julan, Ashlander Companion [v3.0 at bottom of this page] (ok not a graphics mod, but will add much immersion to your game, so I will shill for him anyway!)

Vibrant Morrowind 3.0/4.0 (this one I actually don't have installed yet, but I love the way Vivec looks in the screenshots!)

abot Water Life (adds aquatic creatures/things like algae and coral to make Morrowind's waters more alive!)

Vurt's Corals (found on Vurt's Groundcover page; adds gorgeous corals and new water plants!)

Vurt's Ashlands Overhaul (can choose between gnarly trees or vanilla-style!)

Vurt's Groundcover (gorgeous animated grass and vegetation that differs for each region!)

Vurt's Solstheim Tree Replacer II (more realistic trees and snowy pines!)

Vurt's Bitter Coast Trees II (5 additional unique trees!)

Vurt's Bitter Coast Trees II Remastered (mesh fixes/optimizations for the trees!)

Vurt's Leafy West Gash II (more trees, and optional rope bridge texture!)

Vurt's Ascadian Isles Tree Replacer II (v10a recommended for better-sized trees without clipping issues; TREES!!)

Articus Bush Replacer for Vurt AI Trees II (new model for bush tree + bark retexture!)

Vurt's Grazeland Trees II (really cool palms and Baobab trees!)

Vurt's Mournhold Trees II (beautiful animated cherry blossom trees!)

I Lava Good Mesh Replacer (better lava mesh, has no flickering with effects like steam!)

Remiros' Minor Retextures - Mist (much nicer spooky mist in Ancestral Tombs!)

Unto Dust (adds atmospheric floating dust motes, kinda like in Skyrim barrows!)

Graphic Herbalism MWSE (improved meshes and Oblivion-style harvesting!)

Glow in the Dahrk (windows transition to glowing versions at night!)

Ashfall (super awesome and very configurable Camping/Survival/Cooking/Needs mod!)

Watch the Skies (dynamic weathers/weather changes inside/randomized clouds etc!)

Seasonal Weather of Vvardenfell (weather changes throughout the year!)

Taddeus' Foods of Tamriel (adds Ashfall compatible foods and ovens for baking!)

More Wells (add-on for Ashfall/more immersive since access to water is pretty important!)

Diverse Blood (because not everything should bleed Red when you poke it with a spear!)

Lived Towns - Seyda Neen (adds more containers/clutter to make it feel more lived-in!)

Better Waterfalls (adds splash effects/water spray, better running water texture!)

Waterfalls Tweaks (resized water splash to blend better!)

Dunmer Lanterns Replacer (smoother/more-detailed-yet-optimized lanterns + paper lanterns!)

Telvanni Lighthouse Tel Vos (fits in perfectly with Azura's Coast region!)

Telvanni Lighthouse Tel Branora (very atmospheric, works well with surroundings!)

Palace of Vehk (Vivec's Palace feels lived-in instead of sad and empty!)

Ships of the Imperial Navy (immersive addition to Imperial waterfront areas!)

Striderports (gives caravaners some shelter and comfort while standing there all day!)

Illuminated Palace of Vivec (decorates palace steps + shrines with devotion candles and flowers left by followers!)

Scum Retexture - Alternative 2 (better looking pond scum in Bitter Coast region!)

Full Dwemer Retexture (I went with Only Armor/Robots/Weapons; nice high quality retex!)

Blighted Animals Retextured (I chose Darknut's 1024; blighted animals have their own sickly textures now!

Vivec Expansion 3.1 Tweaked Reworked (adds a hostel/many wooden walkways to Vivec on the water!)

Atmospheric Plazas (Vivec's plazas now have weather/sunlight! Be sure to use MCP's Rain fix to keep it from pouring as if there's no roof!)

Gemini's Realistic Snowflakes (more organic texture with more depth!)

Severa Magia DB fix (makes hideout actually appropriate to Dark Brotherhood!)

Starfire's NPC Additions (more populated towns and settlements!)

Hold It (adds items for NPCs to hold and carry, based on their class; very immersive!)

Suran-The Pearl of the Ascadian Isles (I went with White Suran Complete package; stunning retexture that also adds docks/waterfront!)

Atmospheric Delights (a more fitting mood inside the House of Earthly Delights!)

Guars Replacer-Aendemika of Vvardenfell (pluginless makeover for our scaly friends!)

Silt Strider by Nwahs and Mushrooms Team (great new model+textures for these cool bug-buses!)

Skar Face (giant crab manor in Ald-ruhn gets claws and legs!)

Armor/Clothing

Redoran Founders Armor (Redoran councilors stand out in this cool set!)

Morag Tong Polished (bug fixes/Armor Replacer/restored cut content for the faction!)

Rubber's Weapons Pack (several unique weapons/shields get distinct models!)

Yet Another Guard Diversity (generic copypasta guards now have variation!)

Better Silver Armor (adds missing pieces of silver armor to make full set!)

Royal Guard Better Armor (pluginless armor replacer for the Royal Guards!)

RR Mod Series Better Silt Strider Armor (cooler bug men in your Ashlander camps!)

Armored Robes NPC Compilation (some Ordinators/Mabrigash/others will wear distinct robes of their station!)

Full Dragonscale Armor Set v1.3a (adds the missing pieces to make the set complete!)

Mage Robes (robes for every magic school, many MG members will wear their respective ones!)

Quorn Resource Integration (lore-friendly armor/creatures added to leveled lists to be encountered in game!)

Better Clothes (non-segmented clothing replacer to fit Better Bodies!)

More Better Clothes (additional shirts that were missed in the first one!)

Better Clothes Complete (fixes many problems and 1st person clipping issues for BC!)

Better Clothes Retextured (high-res retextures for nearly all base game clothes!)

Hirez Better Clothes (3 shirts retextured in high quality!)

Better Morrowind Armor (BB compatible armor replacer!)

Dark Brotherhood Armor Replacer (changes DB armor to look more like concept art!)

Bonemold Armor Replacer (much nicer-looking Bonemold armor!)

Westly's Fine Clothiers of Tamriel (very high quality clothes that you will see many NPCs wearing too!)

Orcish Retexture v1.2 (beautifully done armor retexture!)

Daedric Lord Armor (much improved Daedric set, very fierce!)

Ebony Mail Replacer (awesome new model+tex that changes it to actual chainmail!)

I use Wrye Mash to install my mods, though I think a lot of people use MO2. Haaa, now that I've made this list I have the strong urge to just run around Morrowind taking even more screenshots =)

[midnightmoonkiss]

Painful Stings & Sweet Apologies

Yandere! Izuku Midoriya X Fem! Reader

Summary: Rage fueled by failure, Izuku finds comfort in a bar, only to come home to a broken promise and a furious darling. He didn’t mean for this to happen.

WARNINGS!: blood, violence, alcohol (Izuku under the influence)

Category: Angst, one-sided fluff

Word Count: 9k+

A/N: This is my first yandere fic! I’m nervous as hell, I have no idea if I got this right lol. Though I did spend months perfecting it to the best of my abilities! Hope you enjoy~

Just To Clarify:

You’re both adults

It’s Friday

It’s cold and rainy (naturally--)

Izuku’s bedroom has a walk in closet and a bathroom

the kitchen is off-limits

THIS IS A YANDERE FIC!

Izuku is an obsessive yandere~

Cold, burning liquid rushed down the male’s throat as he gulped at the drink within the short glass.

Whiskey, or more specifically - a Jack Daniels, the honey-brown alcohol that delivered a bitter slap to all those who drank its refreshing nectar. 

It wasn’t his usual drink, and certainly not one he’d ever guzzle like a parched beast.

Hell, who in their right mind would do that? Even with a single sip, it left your chest burning with its heat.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, right?

Or, more of, self-loathing times call for a quick, one-way ticket to Forget-Me Ville and Cringe Island.

The bar he sat at was lively, filled with drunken laughter and slurred speeches of men and women who have been out for far too long.

But it was Friday night, so who cared?

A rainy, cold, sucky, depressing Friday night, one of which his friends tried to make a bit better by taking the pissed off, green-haired hero out for drinks.

They certainly hadn’t expected Izuku, an innocent little guy who couldn’t handle his liquor for shit, to shoot down an entire glass of whiskey.

At first, he ordered a simple beer - a starter drink if you will.

It didn’t take but ten minutes for him to gulp that glass down, and he was onto his next drink - a sangria wine cooler. His typical drink. He always was more of a fruity guy, after all, preferring the sweet tang over the bitter bite.

But as the night raged on, and so did his inner turmoil, he kept ordering stronger and stronger drinks, until he got to the whiskey. You could say he lost his sense of reason a while ago.

He was still seething with rage, not as much as before but the mixture of anger and frustration swirled hotly with the alcohol pumping through his veins and sitting in his belly.

You could say it was keeping him warm in this lifeless atmosphere.

For the first time in what felt like forever, he didn’t think of you, his precious little darling. He could barely think straight, mind occupied with too many thoughts to be able to understand any of them. It was all a garbled mess, one he chose to ignore.

Was that a good or a bad thing? He’d find out later.

But for now?

He needed another drink.

In the beginning, this Friday seemed like it was going to be one of the best he’ll ever have.

For months this pro hero has been working alongside detectives with catching a murderous villain known by the name “Ghoul.”

They were sick and twisted, their motives unknown, their trail hard to tract.

He had only one encounter with them, but he was too late to catch them.

That’s the day he was brought in to help aid the case.

But, that day haunted him for weeks. He knew that if he had arrived at the bloody scene sooner, he could have captured that cannibalistic fuck, brought justice to those who had already died by their mangy hands.. and prevented the deaths that would ensue after.

He’d known horrible villains before, but this one was different. Their teeth were sharp, blood permanently stained their clothes, and they gave off a wolfish vibe. Yes, a hunter. One who tore flesh from human bones and munched on it until someone screamed in terror for help.

For months he helped gather intel, piece puzzle pieces together, aid with location predictions and stakeout missions, until finally - they found that bastard.

It was more of a hunch than anything really, that Ghoul would show up to that site.

Ghoul, while hard to track, left a pattern in their wake. They avoided certain areas, thrived where the poor were at their weakest. The murders always seemed to happen at the exact same time behind run-down fast-food restaurants.

It was unclear if the sicko liked a hearty human meal with their victims own stomachs filled with greasy, fattening food, or if it was just convenient to them, either way - the perp was too damn sloppy.

To regular ol’ police personnel, the murders would just always happen there, behind restaurants.

But after Deku’s team began tracking where each and every murder occurred, it was quite easy to tell they were drawing, funnily enough, a circle around the city’s map.

It was stupid, childish, and downright idiotic, but damn if that didn’t lead the team to find the cold-blooded killer.

Adrenaline and pure hatred for the villain fueled Deku’s onslaught of attacks, each seemingly more powerful and less calculated. His mind was muddled.

He was filled with rage, finally being able to see the shitty excuse of a human again, but it affected his movements. He was being hasty, careless, not his usual calculated self.

And that’s what brought him his demise.

His shoulder was harshly bitten, razor-sharp teeth tearing through the fabric of his suit and shredding up the skin on his shoulder. Their quirk pumped through his blood instantly, making him collapse onto his knees, paralyzed. He hissed in pain as the sickeningly warm liquid flowed down his arm, unable to stop himself from face planting onto the dirty gravel of the alleyway.

He had lost, and Ghoul got away.

He still remembers it, after all, it was only hours ago that it happened.

The sun had long since set, the crescent moon hung high in the sky as her stars shimmered around her. His wound was stitched up and healed by doctors, leaving only a bitter scar to remind him of his failure.

He failed not only himself but those who counted on him.

God, he sucked.

And so, he ordered another drink.

He wanted to forget. He didn’t want to feel the failure sting at his fragile heart anymore.

It was too much to take.

What type of hero let the villain get away, knowing full well that they would kill again?

They couldn’t track Ghoul’s trail anymore, for the circle had been completed - and they were left with nothing with the numbing feeling of brutal loss.

Hours blurred together as his mind went hazy. His speech slurred together, dull, green eyes unfocused and mouth blabbering out nonsense to his friends that he couldn’t even really hear. It just- came out. 

Soon enough, he was being dragged out of the bar by his annoyingly sober friends.

The night had gotten colder since they first entered the warm bar, rain pelted down like freezing bullets flying from a machine gun. A dirty old awning kept them dry as they stood still at the front of the bars entrance, the loud music bouncing off the walls inside echoed down the empty streets.

Heavy streams of salty rainwater poured off the edge of the awning, splattering down into a mud puddle that emptied into the sewer grate below.

Who doesnt love the musty stench of rain on asphalt?

Hell, the smell itself, combined with the strong yet savory scent of the Korean barbeque joint across the street was enough to make him nauseous. He had drank far too much, and his stomach was suffering the consequences. He should have eaten more before drinking. How foolish.

 “It’s pretty late, you should head home.” Reasoned his best friend, Todoroki, puffs of condensation leaving his mouth as the warm breath met cold air, pressing a freezing hand to the back of the freckled boy's sweaty neck to jolt his drowsy, drunken self into a more alert state. Nothing but time could sober you up, but damn if that hand didn’t help slap some energy into him.

“Yeaahh, ye-yeahhh.. I gooht you Todooroe.” God, he sounded like someone high on anesthesia after being awoken from a surgery - which he definitely would be able to compare this experience to. Being a hero meant at least a few surgeries a year. Comes with the job.

Plus, this wasn’t the first time he’s been drunk.

He sure as hell hated the aftermath, but some nights it felt as if the hot burn of alcohol was the only thing that could keep him sane.

This was just one of those nights - or perhaps it was multiple nights slammed into one from just how stupidly drunk he was. The world was blurred, and Izuku doubted he could even walk straight at this point.

The half and half hero waved down a stray taxi, street water splashing up onto the sidewalk as the yellow vehicle came to a screeching halt.

“Get home safe.” Todoroki sighed out his nose at seeing his friends out-of-it state, helping the giddy and jelly-like hero into the back seat.

Izuku pouted, grabby hands clinging onto his friend's shirt in protest.

With a half-hearted chuckle, Todoroki pried himself free from his grip, handing the cab driver more than enough yen to get the drunk boy home.

He gave the taxi driver an address, and soon the car was rolling off down the street, Izukus flushed face pressed against the cold, fogging glass and staring with eyes full of tears at his friend.

Though, it seemed as if he had forgotten a promise he made to someone very important to him. Someone who he devoted his entire life to.

Someone who he risked everything for.

You.

His princess who had been locked in a small, dark room all day, wrists tightly cuffed to loose chains on the wall. The only light provided was a rusty oil lamp Izuku had gotten at a yard sale one day. The flame was dull, and left the room covered in shadows.

The tile below was as cold as it had been since the morning when Izuku had forcefully chained you there for misbehaving the night before.

You had deserved this punishment for disobeying him.

That’s what he tried to convince, anyway.

He was only trying to keep you safe! He hated punishing you, hated the way you thrashed and screamed at him in protest - that only meant he had to be rougher with you. You had broken into the most dangerous room in the apartment, afterall.

The kitchen.

There were far too many harmful objects in there!

Knives that could slice your delicate skin to shreds, forks that could jab into your body, hot stoves that could leave you with a nasty burn, and canned food stored too high up on the shelf that could fall and hit your head.. It was for your protection that the kitchen was off-limits to you!

Plus, Izuku, your oh-so kind and sweet boyfriend, had no problem with cooking you meals to eat together. In fact, he loved it!

He felt accomplished whenever you'd hum in approval at his cooking, or even turned on if that slutty mouth of yours just so happened to moan around your utensil. 

Those were the nights dinner was forgotten.

But you had been foolish, entering the kitchen for a midnight snack whilst Izuku was out on patrol. Your sneaky little self thought you were clever, leaving no trace of your betrayal.

Until you were awoken hours later by a green glow, blood running cold as a pair of murderous neon eyes stared into yours.

It had to be one of the scariest sights to date.

His pupils were shrunk, green electricity buzzing around his large body. He hovered over your trembling body, a wrapper in between his two gloved fingers.

He was so close, your noses brushed together.

You swore he could see into your soul, as well as see the fear in your (E/C) eyes.

“What is this, (Y/N)?” He had asked innocently, hurt coating his words.

“I-” you wanted to make an excuse, protest, say it wasn’t yours, but every single letter died on your tongue as his face pressed closer, a sadistic smile overtaking his features.

“You didn’t.. You didn’t go into the kitchen, did you?”

His hot, minty breath blew all over your face as he spoke, and you shriveled back in fear as insanity crossed his expression in that way you were far too familiar with.

The giggles bubbled in his throat as he tried to fight logic with delusion, “It wasn’t you, right? Someone broke in, didn’t they? You wouldn’t break my trust, would you?”

His voice was cracking, fingers digging into the flesh of the bed beneath you as his eye began to twitch.

He stared down at you, curly green hair brushing against the sides of your face, waiting far too long for an answer he would never get. His bottom lip wobbled, feat tears welling up in his eyes and falling onto your pale cheeks as his body shook with anger and sadness.

He was already stressed about the following mornings mission, and to come home to his princess betraying his trust was not something he enjoyed.

And so, you were punished.

But he had promised you wouldnt be locked in there for long, he knew how you feared the dark. He had conditioned you to fear it, after all. It was his greatest accomplishment.

You were always so willing to cuddle into him when the lights were off.

A few hours turned into nearly an entire day, the only indication you had of this was past experiences, skin around your wrists rubbed raw from the metal cuffs, and the unusual sting of your ass and bare legs burning from the freezing tile beneath you.

That was the least of your worries, though.

Worst of all - the flame, which was holding you together and keeping you from crying out for help to those who might hear you in this soundproof room, which would no doubt get you a harsher punishment, was about to die out.

That flame, albeit small, was your only hope of surviving this.

Izuku was typically a very reliable person, it was strange for him to not keep his word to you. He devoted his being to you, worshipped the ground you regrettably walked upon, why would he break his own promise?

The thought of being trapped in the dark, the echo of your chains taunting your delirious mind had you close to tears. You didn’t want to be alone here anymore.

You watched in horror as the flame got smaller and smaller, tears now rolling down your cheeks as you pleaded under your breath for it to last longer.

The air vents around you provided enough oxygen for it to survive, but that damn oil..

Where was he?! 

Suddenly, the door to his apartment flew open, giggles seeping through the house and teasing your ears.

Then, there was no more light.

A screech tore from your throat, a desperate call of his name as you thrashed around, tears pouring from your eyes.

You felt as if you couldnt breathe as your head whipped around the space, desperate for more air and light as your lungs seemed to scream.

You couldnt feel the cold chill of the floor anymore, body numb as adrenaline pumped through your veins.

What was in the dark?

How big was this space again?

Rather, how small was it?

What was that noise?

Did something just touch you?

There was wind, there was wind, no. A cold chill?

Oh god what was that-

Loud, clumsy footsteps made their way closer and closer to the locked metal door. You sobbed as your heard the jingle of keys, metal scraping against metal as he fumbled with inserting them into the lock.

Until finally, you were basked in the honey-dew glow of the bedroom.

You fought to control your breathing as he dropped to his knees, taking far too long for your liking to get the cuffs off.

But at least now you know why he took so god damn long.

You could smell the putrid miasma of alcohol wafting off him the moment he stepped into the darkroom, tainted with the salty effluvium of rainwater as it dripped onto your skin from his damp, messy hair.

Rage bubbled inside you as he giggled once more at your tear-stained cheeks, “D-did yoou miss mee?” He slurred, a giddy smile on his face as the stale stench of what he had been drinking all night circled around your head like a rotten wreath.

Instead of answering, like you knew you should have, you turned your head towards the door, soaking in the light you were previously deprived of. Even if it was just a mere minute.

At your silence, his smile quickly turned into a frown. Big, forestry green eyes welled up with sadness, bottom lip trembling, “(Y-Y/N)?” He couldnt help but reach out, scarred fingers wishing to wipe away those stray tears from your face.

You missed him.

That’s why you were crying, surely.

He wanted to comfort you, say that he was there now and that you could both cuddle until twinkling dawn.

You weren’t alone anymore.

He was all you needed, and he was right beside you.

He’ll always be there for you, and you’ll always be there for him.

Because you love each other.

“D-Don’t cry-”

His cold hand was smacked away, and his usually sturdy body was shoved back so that you could scramble out of the freezing closet.

You needed space.

More room to breath.

To be on flooring that didnt feel like ice cutting into your flesh.

Hell, you were sure the skin that had the unholy misfortune of touching the floor were burned red at this point from how long you had to sit there.

Not to mention your poor wrists, you couldnt even bear the sight of them being so raw. You were pretty sure they would bleed if you even touched them. Your body was screaming in pain, stomach growing for food, mouth parched from not being given water so that you wouldnt make a mess on the floor.

You were weak, shaking, and afraid.

That bastard had the gall to say not to cry, to look concerned when he knew damn well how much you absolutely despised the dark.

At first it was a childish fear, but the moment he snatched you from your regular life, that fear became a reality. There were countless nights you’d be punished by being left alone in the dark.

He didnt want to hurt you, no, and he never has, but damn if he hasnt conditioned you to be afraid. 

Storms were the worst.

What was once a peaceful white noise turned into a terrifying nightmare once the moon rose in the sky.

There were times you were locked in that closet during violent storms, screaming and begging to be let out.

Sometimes you were, other times you werent as lucky.

Though it was only raining right now, each pitter-patter of the droplets against the window or balcony made hairs on your neck stand up. The sound was previously muted in the closet, but now it was hitting you like a freight train on a track that never seemed to end.

You heard him scramble to his feet as you wiped your tears away, the creak of the floorboards as he stumbled towards you.

A subtle bang made you jump, his foot no doubt hitting the chest at the end of your bed. Everso the clumsy one, even in an illuminated room.

Suddenly, he was right behind you, arms wrapping tightly around your middle as his head dropped to your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against your neck.

Perhaps it would have been pleasant, comforting, even, if he wasnt soaked to the bone. The cold water from his dark grey, long-sleeved sweater was now seeping into your own thin clothes, freezing wet hair sending shivers down your spine and it presses against your heated, sensitive skin. Some drops even went down your back, ripping a gasp from you.

This wasnt comforting at all.

This was suffocating.

You squirmed in his grasp, desperate to get the hell away from him.

You were already pissed, and him wrapping around you and squeezing you tight like a snake to its prey was the cherry on top of your disastrous sundae.

With a grunt, you used the rest of what little strength you had left to rip yourself free from his ‘hug,’ nearly tripping on your own two feet as you rushed away from him.

He pouted at you as you shoved yourself into a corner of the room, finding comfort in being able to see all around you, no surprise attacks from behind, only what was in front of you.

Your breath was heavy as you glared at him, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching.

Truly, you had some nerve.

But it was hard to help it.

He broke a promise.

He never does that, and yet in your time of need- he wasn’t there for you.

For once.

He knew damn well you were locked up, scared shitless, expecting him to return home in a few short hours, yet here he is - looking absolutely clueless as to why you were suddenly so angry at him.

Tears streamed down his drunkenly flushed cheeks, hurt by how you shoved him away again.

All he wanted to do was snuggle you, his body exhausted yet numbed by the alcohol still burning in his tummy.

“Where..” you started, voice low, scratchy, and dripping with venom that reached deaf ears. “Where have you been!”

Just as he was about to open that mouth of his, no doubt about babble nearly incoherently - form logical excuses with evidence to back him up, say he lost track of time which you know damn well he never did, you shut him up.

You hated dealing with him when he was drunk, hell - you hated dealing with his obsessive ass most days.

But drunk? Drunk he got worse. He was clingy, more emotional, and worst of all? He didn’t have a filter.

He always managed to hide those more sinister desires under that sweet mask of his - until alcohol brought it out.

God, the smell of it made you sick to your stomach, but luckily you didn't have any food to throw up.

No thanks to him.

“What the fuck, Midoriya?!” You leered at him, noticing quickly the way his eyes darkened in that way they always did when you referred to him by his family name - the name he hated being called by you of all people.

“I’ve been trapped in that room all goddamn day! You said it’d be a few hours? What the hell happened to that! Look at the fucking time! Nine hours! Nine hours I’ve been stuck in my own personal hell! I can’t feel my fucking legs because of you!”

“I-” he attempted to start, the firm grip he had on his sanity quickly loosening with every shout you threw at him.

You cut him off, again, pent up rage now overtaking your sense of reason and fear, “What the hell happened?! You know what! I don’t even care! Not only did you,” You pointed a trembling finger at his stilled body, “break a promise! Something you swore you would never fucking do, you also had the nerve at laugh at me as I was trembling in fear!”

You looked like a mess, body shaking and bent over itself, one arm clutched around your waist as if to hold yourself together as that accusing finger stayed trained on him. Your hair was messy, frizzy, soaked with sweat and oily as hell from being denied a shower. Your clothes, thin and girly - much to your utter distaste, but to his satisfaction - now damp thanks to his carelessness.

All of this was because of him.

It always was.

Every single thing that went wrong in your life always seemed to be because of him nowadays.

You couldnt believe you let yourself fall for that misleading smile all those years ago, only to end up like this.

A mouse in a lions den.

But hell if that would stop you from squeaking your heart out till his razor-sharp claws ultimately caged you back in.

“Do you see my wrists?!” with a strangled sob, you held up both of your arms to show him the mess he already knew was his fault, “look at them! They hurt so fucking much because you left me in those disgusting handcuffs! This is all your fault!”

Your knees were wobbling so bad you swore your legs would give out at any second, but you’d be damned if you didnt hold your ground to this lunatic.

True, some days he was nice, normal, even. But days like these, or days much worse, you were reminded of just who he really was.

A monster was stretching it. He never intentionally tried to hurt you, your friends, or even your family.

No, he just stole you from your apartment in the dead of night, convinced the reason you were crying was because of the thunderstorm and not because some psycho snatched you from your window like some sort of 1970’s movie trope. That night he cradled your thrashing body to his hard chest with his strong arms, cooing at you and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you begged to be let go. You were just scared of the storm~ He would keep you safe~ He is the number one hero, afterall~

That was all utter bullshit, straight from the beginning.

And even now he was still wrapped in the delusion that you loved him as much as he loved you.

A fated pair.

Please.

But you still held on to the pathetic hope that one day he’d snap out of it, return to the Izuku you knew from the beginning and not the person who now stood a few feet in front of you, staring with cold, emotionless eyes.

“I’m sorry.” he says impassively, face as blank as a new canvas - unreadable and dangerous in every way imaginable. It was hard not to feel as if he was just waiting to strike, already calculating his next moves like he always seemed to do. It was far easier to deal with an angry Izuku than one where you couldn’t read his already complex emotions, thoughts, anything. He was the definition of expressive, and it truly took a fuckin bullet to the back of his head for him to be like this.

So clearly, you hit a nerve.

Wonderful.

“Oh?” Despite knowing the implications of the situation you found yourself in, it was impossible not to laugh at such a pathetic fucking apology.

Knowing him, he probably was sorry, deep down inside. You knew he didn’t like seeing you hurt, especially if it was because of his doing, and yet- you pressed on. 

Pent up anger was a nasty thing to deal with, especially since it’s been brewing inside you for so long.

“Are you now? You don’t fucking seem sorry! If you were really sorry, you wouldnt have done it! But look where we are! You’re such a fucking-!”

“Shut up.” he growls out borderline maliciously, stumbling slightly as he turns to walk out the door. He was clearly fed up, his strong hands clenched into threatening fists, but so were you. Even if you were undeniably frightened to confront him, you wouldn't let that stop you from pushing yourself off the wall - your safe space - and wobbling after him.

“Look at you! You can’t even walk right! How drunk are you, huh? Washing away your feelings again, are you? What about my feelings! Huh?!”

You were pushing it.

You really were.

The entire house felt it, the air chillingly still as Izuku had to grind his teeth together so as to not lash out at you. 

He didn’t want to.

That was the last thing he wanted to do, but all that stress and self-hatred previously washed away was coming back up to the burning surface that cages his discretion.

Heavy breaths blew out his nostrils as he made his way to the living room, desperate for you to get the hint from his hunched over body that he wanted you to fuck off.

Yeah, he messed up, deep down he knew he did but currently his mind was far too clogged to even begin to comprehend it.

You were like an annoying mosquito, your words morphing into a persistent buzz.

He was ignoring you, and that made you livid.

He always ignored you when your problems were deemed irrelevant, or when he found you were being far too vexatious.

He always did this, always.

You were trapped in a cell with some asshole who didn't even want to listen to you.

Obviously, you had enough.

Typically you’d back off, go fume in another room or punch the wall till the skin around your knuckles tore open and dripped blood everywhere, making him snap out of whatever state he was in just to suffocate you in his toxic love.

Oh how life proved to be full of surprises.

A low growl of your own slithered passed your teeth, eyes practically burning red as if you prayed you had a quirk that could do something against him.

“You’re a selfish bastard! You fucking piss-poor excuse of a hero-!”

SLAP!

A shrill scream tore from your raw throat, the echo of skin burning against skin dizzying you as you were thrown back onto the floor.

Boiling hot tears streamed down your face as you sobbed out of pure fear, body shaking uncontrollably and you shuffled backward, desperate to get yourself as far away from him as you could currently manage.

It had all happened so fast, you didn't even have time to register it as it occurred.

One moment his hands were gripping the back of the couch with such strength you could see his knuckles turn a ghostly white, and the next, crackling, neon-green lightning surrounded his body, illuminating the dim apartment in a slimy glow. Before you even had a chance to register just what happened, he whipped his head around, his eyes, typically blown wide with sickening love and sparkling under delusional illusions, were narrowed and glowing in a way that sent shivers of immense regret down your spine. His arm whipped back with his hand, the very hand that delivered a painfully paralyzing slap.

He always spoke with his hands, and you just happened to be too close to him at that moment.

The reddended skin of your cheek burned, and you swore you could feel more than just tears streaming down it.

You were stuck shaking on the floor, imaginary bile rising in your throat, and all you could do was stare at him with wide, bloodshot and terrified eyes.

He had never laid a hand on you like that before, you didnt know what to think.

He always promised to do you no intentional harm, to never lay a finger on you with intentions of making you cry out in pain.

He had never acted so feral and out of line before.

It.. it scared you in a way you never felt before.

The gap between you grew, you really were just a mouse trembling in a lion's den.

“P-princess-” he shakily called out, voice weak and uneven, quirk diminishing into thin air like it never was there in the first place.

His own eyes were wide and filled with immense regret, tears already pouring down his flushed, freckled face.

He took one step forward, and you scrambled back, hand coming up to touch at your cheek, shock making you feel faint at the sight of blood coating your trembling fingertips.

You felt sick once again, empty stomach feeling as if it was collapsing in on itself to push even the tiniest bit of nonexistent food out.

You didnt know what to do.

Choking on your own sobs, you tried desperately to shuffle away from him, but he only came closer.

You cried out the moment he dove at you, your hands clasped together tightening against your chest as if to hold yourself together as this bear of a man wraps his arms cold, soaked arms protectively around you, his large shoulders violently shaking as he buried his snotty, tear stained face deep into your unruly tresses.

The stench of alcohol burned your nostrils, edging you on to try and push his heavy chest away. You tried, but you failed miserably, resulting in his arms pulling you even closer to his sweaty and damp body. It was disgusting.

“L-let go of me!” you wailed, your own tears stinging your eyes as your vision blurred and you could no longer tell just what you were staring blindly at, the dimness of the living-room paired with the suffocating embrace of your captor swallowing you whole.

You couldnt take it.

You could barely breathe at this point.

“p-p-ple .. plea-s-se..!” your cries intertwined with his own desperate ones as he babbled nearly incoherently on about how sorry he was, how he never meant to do something so horrible.

“I’m not a monster!” he howled out, desperate words seeping with ululation.

He was desperately trying to convince himself of that.

He wasn’t talking to you at all.

He was talking to himself.

He wasn’t a monster.

He wasn’t a monster.

He’s not like him.

He’s not like that piece of filth.

No, he’s so much better.

He’s a good man.

No, no, he’s not a monster.

He’s your hero.

He could never purposely harm you.

No.

It was an accident.

An accident.

You’d understand.

He knew you would!

You always understood him.

You were like two peas in a pod!

You forgave him, surely.

Yes.

Yes!

You did the moment he hugged you, the moment he started comforting you.

He was a good man.

How could you not forgive him?

He loved you so, so, so much.

You knew that-

You knew he would never do such a thing.

His breathing was even, eyes wide and straining as he stared at the floor, a crooked smile on his face as he repeated the words over and over again in his twisted mind.

He never met to hurt you.

No.

He didnt.

“Plea-” you tried once more, biting your wobbling lip as he squeezed you even tighter.

“No, no, no, no, no, no..” he heaved out, hand coming up to gently pet your oily hair as if to calm you. His head shook back and forth in your hair, “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m so sorry, honey.”

There was nothing you could do.

You were stuck alone in a mouse trap, the cold, metallic bar snapped down on top of your frail neck.

There was no escape.

There never was.

His form of ‘love’ far too strong for you to even attempt to.

And so, you gave up. 

Just like you always did.

There was no point in resisting him.

Sticky blood trickles down your raw cheek, dripping down onto the chilled bare skin of his neck, still cold from the damp clothes he wore, instantly catching his wondering attention.

“You.. you’re bleeding?” he whispered guiltily, already feeling a new wave of salty tears building up in the corner of his eyes.

His large left hand trailed up the skin of your neck, idly collecting the thin trail of red liquid onto his fingertips and smearing a path up to your jawline, stopping the moment your shivering form flinched.

He frowned at the red mark taking up half your beautifully innocent face, a small cut resting in the middle of it where no doubt the ring he foolishly wore as an accessory swiped.

Guilt made his stomach churn, the familiar burn of acid rising in his throat.

A deep inhale, and he swallowed it down, arm still wrapped around you, languidly rubbing your back as he stared with nothing short of pity at your wrecked state.

Your lips wobbled, holding in a reply as you force yourself to look into the vast abyss of darkness that was the hallway of your apartment instead of his orbs gleaming with concern.

Concern.

Concern for something he caused.

At least he had a heart, but you were still scared shitless and wanted nothing more than to run away. You were still fighting to regulate your breathing.

His thumb suddenly pressed against the slap mark, ripping a yelp from your throat as your head flung back to avoid any more contact. It was then that you noticed a pounding headache echoing inside your skull, yet another reason to aid in the water running down your face. Pain consumed your body, and you wanted nothing more than to escape this shell you were trapped in.

Openly chewing on his lip, both of his arms went back around you, cradling your delicate form to his chest.

Without a word, he stood up, practically forcing you to have to wrap your bare legs around his waist to keep yourself steady, something you were trained to do by him. He loved it when your legs were around his waist whenever he picked you up.

It became a regrettable second nature.

Heavy foot steps brought you back to your bedroom, and then into the bathroom connected to it.

Your fears crept up your spine at the pitch black room you were forced into, remembering how you were in a similar position just a few minutes ago.

When would this cycle end?

Ah. 

It wouldnt, would it?

You were set delicately down atop the cold marble counter as if you were a fragile piece of glass, which, in many ways, you were. The tears had at least stopped, but your body continuously shook like a chihuahua, your breathing still hard to control as fumbled around mindlessly with your fingers to serve as a distraction.

He flipped the light on, momentarily blinding your sensitive gaze with its bright light.

Sniffing, you wiped at your nose, watching as he walked about the bathroom, grabbing a wash cloth just to run it under cool water. The rain was still heavily pouring just outside the wall mixed with the loud splatters of the stream against the white sink. It would have been calming had cold water not splashed up onto your bare thighs, making goosebumps prickle along your skin. Your thighs were nearly numb at this point.

After ringing most of the water out, he held it up to your cheek, staring at you.

Taking the cue, you hesitantly took the cool, wet cloth from his grasp and gingerly pressed it to the swelling skin on your face. You hiss out in pain, dry sobs wracking your body at the stinging pain and the fact that he was still far too close for you to currently handle.

The pain on your cheek paired with the numbing cold was a good distraction.

You chewed on your lip as you squeezed your eyes shut, freehand gripping tightly at the hem of your shirt as you listen to him fumble around in the cabinet hanging over to the left.

You jumped the moment you felt his larger fingers ghost over the ones holding the cloth to your cheek, cautious (E/C) eyes opening ever so slightly as you looked over at him.

You couldnt help but feel idiotic as you suddenly felt flustered at the intense gaze he was giving you, eyes now gleaming viridescent in the white light of the bathroom almost staring right into your soul.

It was like he was reading you, pulling words off your own frail pages just so he could recite them to you.

He did this often.

Keeping silent, staring for long periods of times as he tried out scenarios in his head of the words he was going to say.

It gave you chills, but yet, it made you feel like you were the center of his drifting attention.

The sun his planets revolve tirelessly around, repeating the same cycles like a record forever skipping on repeat.

In these moments, though, he became an enigma.

Not exactly something your fragile state of mind entirely needed right now.

You shivered when his palm came to cup your soft jawline, thumb absentmindedly tracing over your parted lips.

His mouth opened, ready to say something, but he stayed quiet.

Mouth shutting, he leaned forward, tentatively bringing you into another hug.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, the words nearly as quiet as your stilled breath, but you had nothing to say to it. And he knew it.

He was used to you staying silent.

He would prefer it most of the time.

So he could sink into his fantasies, the deluded fantasies that you loved him wholeheartedly, that you chose to stay silent as to not hurt his feelings, and always forgave him no matter what.

That you would forever and always be his.

He wouldnt give you the choice not to be.

He wouldnt let you leave when you’re his favorite person in the whole wide world.

The only one he needed.

And he was the only one you needed.

Yes.

Of course.

You didn’t need anyone else but him.

And he didn’t need anyone else but you.

So what if a few more people died because of his mistake, he would capture Ghoul eventually. Regardless, he would always come home to you.

Always.

And that’s all he needed.

He chucked against your neck, having buried it in the crook as his mind slipped through his shaky fingertips.

The Big Bad Wolf and his Little Red Riding Hood.

God how he loved the comparison.

Perhaps he was addicted.

Addicted to you.

Even now, as he inhaled your sugary sweet, natural scent stained with the metallic smell of dried blood.

Pulling back, he gazed into your hesitant eyes, delicately resting his forehead against yours.

His hair, now dry and no longer dripping with salty rain, tickled your skin, making you involuntarily take in a deep breath.

Closing his eyes once more, he soaks in the moment of your warm body in his frigid embrace, nothing else mattered to him.

Just you.

Only you.

“L-let me see your cheek,” he asks softly, words not as wobbly as before,  afraid that if he spoke too loudly in such a thin atmosphere, everything would shatter abruptly like glass.

Your body moved on instinct as if you were used to doing as he asked immediately no matter what, pulling the cool cloth away from your burning cheek.

Resisting the urge to sniffle and flinch away, you allow him to rewet the cloth, holding still as he dabs lightly at the small wound.

“I know it hurts,” he breathes out, “shh, shh, it’s okay.” it was always so strange how his voice still managed to calm your nerves even after all you’ve been through.

Deep down, you knew he was still that loving and energetic boy you met back at that coffee shop.

If only you knew how sinister and twisted he could really be.

Perhaps.. perhaps you wouldn’t be in such a situation now.

But there was never any point in pondering the what-ifs.

All you could do was fight your mind from seeking normalities in such a relationship as this, if you could even call it that.

You wouldn’t succumb to his desires like you always did.

You wouldnt lose yourself.

No.

You couldn’t let that happen.

Or was it too late already?

You hissed when you felt the stinging seer of rubbing alcohol dotted onto your cut, cleaning the wound.

“It’s okay.” he repeats, cooing to you with a reassuring smile that should have made you feel sick all over again.

You let him apply antibiotic ointment and a small cheek bandage, his hands shaky yet careful. You could say he has experience in applying bandages.

It was uncomfortable as it sat on your raw skin, but it’s not like you were going to go and rip it off. That would feel like ripping off a wax strip on a sunburn.

Humming, he gingerly wipes away the dried blood on your neck with the same washcloth, not minding how blood-stained the innocently white fabric became. 

Next came your still aching wrists. There wasn’t much he could do for your legs, but at least he had roll-on bandages on standby.

Turning the cold tap on, he lets you run them under cool water before gently dabbing the stray droplets away, careful not to press too hard.

He really needed to invest in softer handcuffs, it’s just- those were the only ones he had, and he didn’t use them often. Besides, it never got this bad before. But that wasn’t a good excuse.

He’d have to order some online tomorrow..

Applying more ointment around the area, the kind that offers instant relief, he wraps your smaller wrists up as best he could, cringing himself whenever you’d flinch.

He’d make it up to you.. Pancakes in the morning, perhaps?

Izuku then begins to sluggishly put away everything he brought out of the cabinet, tossing what needed to be tossed into the trashcan.

He was slow, almost as if he was trying to keep his balance, which he no doubt was. 

Standing in front of you once again, he wrapped his arms around you, whispering “up” in your ear.

It was something he would always say when he wanted you to wrap your arms and legs around him so he could carry you like a baby.

But who were you to refuse?

It wasn’t as if he couldnt pick you up without your limbs wrapped around him, it was more for your comfort rather than his convenience.

So, tentatively, you wrapped your still shaking arms around his neck, doing the same with your legs around his bent waist.

“Good girl.” he praised as he began walking back into the bedroom, stopping just at your side of the bed to place you down at the edge.

Numbly, you let him remove your rain-soaked clothes from all the hugging, sitting on the bed in just your panties as you watched him toss the clothes in the hamper by the door

It wasn’t the first time he insisted on treating you like a child who needed help changing, but at least you didn’t have to walk.

It was hard to remember if it was a good or a bad thing that you didn’t care about being nude in front of him anymore, not even bothering to hide your chest as he came back over with a fresh set of clothes - the strawberry patterned pajamas he always seemed to adore you wearing.

You always looked so innocent in them. The shirt is far too large for your frame, the sleeves hanging off your hands and the large v-neck exposing your collar bones and parts of your shoulders. The bottoms were the regular run of the mill pajama pants, soft as cotton and comfy as hell.

The top truly was the part of the look that tied it all together.

He couldn’t help but smile as your arms immediately raised as he pulled the shirt out of the pile, making quick work of slipping it over your cute head and helping your arms into the sleeves.

He liked to take care of you.

You needed him to, after all.

You were his innocent, helpless little darling, after all.

Pulling your pants up, he guided your body down into a resting position, dragging the thick, grey, and black patterned comforter over your stilled body.

Such a good girl.

He tucks loose strands of messy (H/C) hair that fell across your face behind your ear, being mindful of the wound.

He stares at it for a moment, his expression holding that of worry and regret.

Pushing off the bed, he stumbles his way to the kitchen in the dark, having turned off the light as he went, the layout of the apartment burned to memory so he could easily avoid furniture.

In the kitchen, he opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack, one he would commonly use on his own sore muscles and bruises. It hurt his heart knowing he was the reason you had to use it for the first time.

After wrapping it in some paper towels, he trudges his way back into the dark bedroom, eyes wracking over your balled up form, covers bunched over you like a shell.

“Put this on your cheek..” he whispered, placing the pack just in front of your face.

He would love to be the one to hold it to your cheek, but his mind was still hazy, and his words were still slurred. Events could sure as hell sober you up a bit, but damn did that nausea always come back crashing in through the brittle window full force when you’d least expect it.

Rummaging through the drawers once more, he picked up some of his own fresh clothes and made his way into the bathroom again.

All he wants is to sleep, but he also didnt want you to smell dried sweat and rain on his being throughout the night.

He knew you missed him, him and his warmth, you always did, right? No question about it. You must be longing for him even now. 

Wanting him to hold and comfort you just like always.

Numbed adrenaline pumped in his veins as he stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away his filth and regrets.

God, it felt so good to be able to somewhere warm for once.

The entire night he’s felt nothing but cold.

Not even the fire in his belly or the breath stolen from his lungs could’ve warmed him up.

He was mad at himself. Mad that he lost control and hurt the one thing that mattered the most to him.

Mad that he let himself get disgustingly drunk.

Mad that he walked in the rain like a dumbass just to soak your clothes and make you feel as cold as him.

But at the moment, too many thoughts were flying in his mind for him to properly think, no, he couldnt really even say he was thinking at all.

He was just letting the water splatter on the back of his neck, forehead resting on the cold shower tiles and he watched as water swirled down the drain like a whirlpool. His hair stuck to his cheeks like glue, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Absentmindedly, his fingers brush across the fresh scar on his broad shoulder.

He swore the longer he stood there, watching the clear flow of water, the looser his grip on himself became.

He couldnt really say he felt anything at all anymore.

When did he lose himself?

Was he ever even really found?

Ah.

With you.

You were the missing piece in his complicated and skull biting puzzle, the one who made him whole and lit up his dull life. You were the reason he felt things anymore, you were the reason he still managed to get up and save people with a clear conscious.

You always had such a positive impact on his life, and he knew he had just as good a one on yours.

A wobbly smile tore his flushed face in two, you both really did need eachother.

He was so happy to have you in his life.

Knowing you’d never leave him.

Turning the boiling hot water off, he stepped out, the plushness of the bath-mat embracing his wet feet as water continued to pour down his nude body.

It felt, it felt so hot suddenly.

His breath came out in exaggerated pants, hands sweeping his hair from his face as the burn of bile rose in his throat.

Lunging for the toilet, he emptied his stomach into the glistening white bowl.

Gasping for air, Izuku whipped his mouth on the back of his hand, still trying to catch his breath as he fumbled to flush.

God, he needed to sit down.

Shakily turning the bathroom faucet on, he washed his hand, making quick work of brushing his teeth before lazily drying himself off.

Ignoring the other clothes he brought in, the toned hero simply pulled on a pair of black boxers before walking out of the bathroom.

Green eyes immediately looked at your form, just to see the soft rise and fall of your chest as you soundly slept, the ice pack sitting comfortably on your cheek.

You looked so adorable.

You always did.

Smiling once more, he walked over to the bed, pulling back the sheets just to slide his larger, warm body in and next to your own.

He sighs blissfully the moment he tugs you into his embrace, relishing in the feeling of your soft body against him.

Removing the icepack from your cheek, not wanting you to awake to a cheek burning from the cold, he places it on the nightstand before snuggling closer to you.

You always fit so perfectly in his big arms.

You were meant to be by his side.

And you loved it, didn’t you?

Eventually, he fell asleep, soft snores echoing around the quiet room filled with the downpour of rain still pouring down outside the large glass windows,

But you were still wide awake.

It was hard to remember the last time you got a good night’s rest, especially when the room was spine-chillingly dark..

Hard to remember what life was like before you even met your own personal nightmare.

You were used to the exhaustion, the dark circles kissing at the skin under your eyes becoming normal the day you were brought here.

Oh, how foolish you were.

You should have locked your window that fateful night.

But heroes are quite stealthy, aren’t they?

Was this even reality at this point? Or all just a figment of your imagination, protecting you from the true horrors before your very eyes.

Either answer wasnt one you wanted.

But you never had a choice.

Tears slipping from your eyes like they always seemed to do, you stared longingly off into the distance, the warmth pressed against your back pulling you further into your own bubbling madness.

All it took was a signal thought for this to all become normal.

For the pain to wash away with your tears.

‘Maybe this is ok.’

[pomegranates-and-blood]

νοσταλγία (Chapter 16)

(Gif credit HERE)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is a retelling/romantization of the Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction with Ivar as Hades and you as Persephone. The Reader character is a Byzantine woman, follower of the Greek Pantheon/Religion, and a devoted follower of Persephone. This takes place after 5A, but the universe of this is a little changed in relation with the series, of course. Thank you for giving it a chance, hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: The usual

A/N: I’m sorry I uploaded a bit later than usual today, I’m just idk, I think I’m nearing a burnout on this. But anyways, I’m sorry, you’re not here to hear me whine lol. Today as promised there’s a second chapter (17), and schedule will stay as is for now. Thank you, and hope you like it.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​ @heavenly1927​ @toe-vind-ek-jou​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @pieces-by-me​ @angelofthorr​

You can certainly say the people of Kattegat have surprised you. A few days since the King’s announcement that you are to be his wife, their queen, and yet the whispers, the curious eyes; they don’t seem to be any louder or more insistent than before they knew of who you’ll become once their King returns.

You are grateful, you cannot pretend otherwise. To be normal, or as normal as can be in these strange times, it is a luxury you do not take for granted.

So, as it is your new normal, you help the women at the apothecary every day, learning more and more, and yet also having opportunities to teach them better ways. The Gods made you smart, and they also made you arrogant, you are not one to deny it, which is why you and a warrior-like woman have been arguing on how to treat a simple but deep wound for quite a while now.

“We have always done it this way.” The blonde woman argues, but you shake your head.

“That doesn’t mean it is the best way,” You stir the boiling water, pour it over the wine mixed with vinegar and offer it to the woman. “Trust me, I was a healer all over the Mediterranean and the Silk Roads. I know what works best.”

“Arrogant little witch, aren’t you?”

You cock your head to the side and curve your mouth downwards, doubtful, “Is it truly arrogance if it’s founded on actual skill?”

She blinks but then softens her expression, and with a rueful smile on her lips she says, “If your tongue is just as wicked when you face the King, I pity the poor fool.”

“Are any of you going to clean this or sho-…” The warrior sitting in the ground grumbles, but the blonde woman silences him with a hit to the top of his head.

“Shush,” Her eyes remain on you and after a breath she extends a hand, “Fine, give me that water.”

“Careful, it’s hot.”

“He’s Viking, he can take it.” She offers with a sly smile, that quickly falls at your mocking glare when the man squirms and groans as the hot mixture is used to clean the wound on his shoulder.

When the man leaves with a dressed wound that will remain clean thanks to your help, the woman brings the big bowl of fresh water so you can both wash your hands.

As you do, she concedes, “Your ways are proving to be useful, witch.”

“I have a name.” You quip quietly, your voice a grumble. The Viking woman chuckles.

“I know. But ‘witch’ is not an insult, at least to us. It’s a title. You wage war, you sit next to the King, you are welcomed in any hearth.”

“I am no Völva.” You argue calmly, recognizing the traits and benefits she lists as those of a traveling Viking Völva.

“What would you be, back in your home?”

“Dead.” You reply dryly, to which the woman laughs. Clasping a heavy hand on your shoulder, she says,

“I’m Valdís, witch.”

You roll your eyes, but accept the title and her offered seat on the table near the hearth. She passes you an apple and a knife, and you start quietly cutting little sticks for you to eat.

Lifting your gaze to her and watching her toy with a pear and a knife in her own hands, you ask, “Fine, I’m a witch. What are you?”

“A mother. I used to be a shieldmaiden, but…”

“You got married?” You supply when her words die, but the blonde shakes her head with another low, raspy laugh.

“As if a cock could keep a Viking woman from her shield,” She boasts crudely, strikingly reminding you of Sieghild for a moment. The doors to the shop open again, and Freydis walks in, empty basket on one arm and coin pouches on the other. You greet her with a smile, and she returns it as she shrugs off the cloak and takes a seat by your side. Valdís continues her explanation quietly, “No, I did not lay down my shield for marriage. I was…captured during a raid in Wessex. They injured my sword arm badly, and I cannot fight anymore.”

“And your child…” You start, but the words die out, like saying it out loud would make her pain real, like you need to let her decide if she voices this.

Valdís squares her shoulders, strong and unmoving as she says, “He is mine, he is Viking. But…yes, he was…the Saxons forced themselves upon me.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

“You Varangians are so strange. It’s not an insult to be offered compassion.” You tell her. She narrows her eyes, chewing in silence.

“What about you? You weren’t here last winter.” Valdís asks instead of answering, turning sharp focus to Freydis.

The blond girl shuffles in her seat before giving her answer. You eye her with concern and curiosity.

“I’m-…I used to be a thrall. I was freed by a son of Ragnar.”

Why doesn’t she say it was Ivar?

“Surprising he didn’t ask you to marry him,” Valdís huffs, and at your look shrugs and explains, “Those brothers have always had a thing for blonde thralls.”

“Slaves don’t get their hands asked for, Valdís.” Freydis quips, and you catch sight of her fingers playing with one another nervously where they rest on her lap.

“My personal thrall has a husband I have met, and children of her own. What are you on about, girl?”

Even if Valdís sounds gruff, you catch a genuine silver of concern, of care, in the woman’s eyes when she regards the frail girl that seems unbreakable and fragile at the same time.

You remain silent, and wait for Freydis to speak again. She does so, quietly, cautiously.

“We are not-…Slaves don’t fall in love, we just get husbands, slaves don’t have…families, we just birth children. Like animals.”

You do not try to stop your hand from finding hers, stopping the maddening twisting of her fingers and bringing her blue eyes to you. With certainty, you say, “First of all, you are not a slave anymore. And you were never, and never will be, an animal, Freydis.”

But she shakes her head, resolute like that day she tried convincing you the Gods marked you favorites for having endured a world of pain, “You don’t understand, witch. Slaves are not people, you cannot love them, you cannot trust them.”

“Says who? Men in power?” Valdís spits out, bitter chuckle on her lips, “Just because of the Gods we follow we are not people if you ask the Christians. Will you let them say if you are a person or not?”

“No.” The blonde girl bites out, voice wavering even in such a short vocalization. You squeeze her hand, but don’t know what to say.

 “Then don’t let others, even our own, tell you that because of capture or birth you are not a woman like any other,” She sounds so motherly you have to bite back a smile. With certainty, the woman continues, “We are all children of the Gods, you are a child of Freyja. Don’t forget that.”

“I’m-…If Freyja looks over me, why…why did I suffer like I did?”

“Because suffering is what makes us human, and who we are,” You supply without hesitation, offering her a sad smile at the truth you had a hard time accepting as well, “How else would you be able to stand tall today and heal your own wounds, fight for what you want, enjoy what you have; without knowing what it’s like to hurt without remedy, to want and be left wanting, to lack and have nothing?”

The mangy black cat that belongs to the shop by now jumps swiftly into Freydis’ lap, and she absent-mindedly starts petting it as she talks,

“So the Gods mark us for pain? You said-…”

You interrupt her words, not wanting to argue this again even if you know now that the deluded notion of pain being a badge of pride is not so certain in her mind.

With another squeeze of her hand, you offer, “Suffering is not preordained, no. Pain, scars, misfortune, they are not proof of the favor of the Gods.”

“Then why-…You were born under the sigil of your Goddess, and you told me you almost burned alive,” You flinch slightly at the reminder, the soft touch of the linens of your dress against the scars burning like the Christian’s fire for a moment. You steal a nervous glance to Valdís, who watches you with wide eyes, and return shameful eyes to Freydis. The blonde girl continues, “You should have died then, but your Gods kept you alive, gave you their favor, their love.”

“The scars I bear are not proof of my Goddess’ love.”

“Your Goddess’ love carried you here!” The girl insists, eyes wide, “You stood in chains in front of Ivar the Boneless and had him release you. You stand at his side, you whisper in his ear, you have power.”

Her words make you pause for a moment, feeling you are witness to the darker side of the blonde girl for the first time since you arrived. She talked with you about lying to get your freedom, she asked about you seducing Ivar in exchange for what he gave you, and now she boasts about you being by his side like a conquest, as if nothing but a crown and power make up the Viking King.

You decide not to dwell on it, but you still release her hand and straighten in your seat. She notices, you know she does, but says nothing.

“No one’s love carried me here, Freydis,” Your voice may sound colder than before, and on the edge of your vision you catch Valdis raising her eyebrows and looking away. Still, you continue, “Sometimes pain is just pain. I don’t know about your Gods, but mine are-…In my home wise men said it takes strength greater than that of believing the Gods guide our every step to accept the Gods sometimes look away from their creations.”

“So they let us suffer?” Freydis asks, frowning.

A loud groan interrupts you, and you both turn to see Valdís throwing her head back where she sits, dragging rough hands over her face.

“Enough with this. Leave it to old and boring men to discuss the wills of the Gods.” She grumbles, earning a small laugh from you.

The days moves on slowly, though you notice the elders in the apothecary start ordering all of you to work more and more on healing salves and presses, making you wonder what the aftermath of a raid or a battle is like for the healers of Kattegat.

After a few days since meeting the former shieldmaiden, you are invited to join the women of the apothecary on the baths, and curiosity as to how similar these could be to roman public baths wins over your modesty, and you accept.

As you walk there, hearing Freydis hum a strange tune behind you, you catch Valdís, the dark-haired shieldmaiden stretching her stride to walk at your side as the group approaches the baths.

“So, witch.”

“So, shieldmaiden.” You reply, to which she offers a small smile as she meets your eyes.

“King Ivar said Sieghild Vorsdottir is the woman who raised you, who claims you as her daughter,” You nod slowly, not sure where she is going with this, “But she isn’t here, and you are to be a new bride soon.”

Your eyes narrow, and you steal a glance to Freydis as she moves closer to your side, very obviously wanting to hear this conversation.

“What are you on about?”

“You have no one to help you…shed the title of maiden,” Valdís explains, smirk devilish, “To prepare you to be a wife.”

“Not that any of us can prepare her to be the wife of Ivar the Boneless.” A woman quips from behind you, earning a chuckle from a few others in the group.

“My point is, we could use this time to teach you.”

“Teach me.” You repeat, and her smile only turns much more mischievous.

“Of course!” She turns to one of the elders, gesturing with a muscular arm, “Isn’t that tradition? Aren’t we to share our wisdom?”

The woman considers her in silence, though you could swear there’s a small smile betraying at her lips.

“I’m too old for this.” She mutters in response, but Valdís only laughs.

The baths are warm, warmer than any room you’ve been in, and though your hair hates the humidity, you sigh in pleasure at the almost-suffocating warmth.

You undress with ease, and it is only when you are readying to enter the bath turning your back to them that you realize what they may have seen.

The scars. Burn scars, not as bad as they could have been but still there, still present and marring.

They run over the outside of your right thigh, climbing over your hip into part of your back, almost up to your ribs. A gift from the Byzantines, so that you remember what happens to pagans.

“Are those burn scars, witch?” One of the women asks, and you turn around with gritted teeth.

Offering only a nod in response, but you cannot bring yourself to say anything more.

“Burnt alive for refusing to worship the Christian God, or so they say.” Valdís offers in your place, no hesitation in her voice, and no shame either, you notice, as she sheds her clothing as well and bares her strong yet scarred and marked body for everyone to see as she approaches the large stone tub as well.

It makes you feel much more at ease, even if it wasn’t her intention, seeing she has scars too, she has marks too. Not that the women that traveled with you are without their marks and badges of honor, but…the mark of war on a woman is something to be ashamed of, at least where you come from.

“No different than a scar from a sword or an axe,” She states confidently, bowing her head in recognition with a small smile on her face, “Glory to you, Greek.”

You offer her a small smile of your own, and get into the hot water.

“Thank you.” You offer sincerely, and go under the water to get your hair wet, silently pleading with them that the conversation finds an end. It does.

Conversation diffuses between the women soon enough, and the loud laugh of the shieldmaiden echoes in the walls, but you find yourself…comfortable, safe, even if the weight of what kind of failure this comfort, this ease you feel in this land means sets on your chest and almost keeps you from breathing if you think about it too much.

“So, about what we ought to teach you.” Valdís presses, drawing a groan from you.

“Would you leave the poor girl be?” Someone quips, but she dismisses them with a gesture.

“Witch,” Valdís -who you are noticing more and more has no qualms about keeping her mouth shut, reminding you strikingly of Sieghild- asks, moving closer to you in the large tub, “Do you know how to please a man?”

Oh, Gods.

“Yes.” You bite out, resisting the urge to close your eyes in mortification and hoping to everything there is on this earth, let it be Persephone or Freyja, that she doesn’t push this.

“But do you know how to please a Viking?”

“No matter what I say, you will talk anyways, won’t you?”

She only gives you a look that says you should know the answer already, before laughing. You groan, and lower your face further into the waters, igniting a laugh out of the other women.

_____

The routines of spending the days at the apothecary, exchanging secrets and tales with Freydis and loud laughs with Valdís, sharing short conversations with the other women, watching and learning and teaching; they quickly become a source of warmth and familiarity in this cold and strange land.

Even more now that Ivar is gone. You have no shame in admitting you have…grown used to him. Maybe that’s what hurts the most, what feels the most like failure; the fact that you have grown to enjoy his company, to hope for something more than resentment, to see him not quite as you did in Aneridge, but differently all the same. And the Gods made you too arrogant and proud to admit it to anyone but yourself, but you do miss him while he is gone. His curious eyes, his endless questions, his taunts and his infuriating stubbornness.

Prince Hvitserk has kept you company, and you offer murmured greetings each time you cross paths and maybe exchange a few words during dinner. It is more than you could ask for, and you think is all you should want. You have always had a soft heart, and not even Kattegat’s cold or its cruel King could harden it; and…a soft heart brings forth familiarity, care, affection. You have no use for neither, for you cannot forget the chains set upon you.

If you forget the chains, it will feel like a choice to remain here. And this is not a choice you can make.

You keep reminding yourself not to forget what brought you here, not to forget the chains set upon you, not to forget that you do not belong here; even as you occupy your day with a foolish and sentimental project.

You run into Hvitserk as you are carrying an armful of wooden planks -that you may or may not have exchanged a necklace for- to your rooms.

“What are you doing, woman?” He asks, and when he offers you, not demands, to take the heavy wood and carry it for you, you accept with a smile.

“I’m…making planters in my rooms,” The Prince still looks at you like you grew a second head, so you add, “I like plants. Herbs and flowers.” You offer as your sole answer, shrugging your shoulders.

When you reach the doors to your rooms, you hesitate, and the Prince offers you a smile.

“I can help you make them.”

“Is that…proper? For a man to be in a woman’s rooms?” You ask lowly, but the laugh you startle out of the young man takes away any secrecy you expected to get.

He pushes open the door with his shoulder and walks in, you trailing behind him.

“‘Proper’. You spent too much time with Christians, witch,” He chuckles, and drops the planks where you point him to. Crossing his legs underneath him as he sits on your floor, he motions for you to do the same. “If it’s my brother you are worried about, I’ll handle him.”

You thank him with a smile, tremulous as it is, and help him as you both work in amicable company, exchanging snippets of stories, quiet laughs and easy smiles.

“The King,” You start cautiously, and the Prince nods, giving you permission to talk, “Has he always been so…?”

“Usually worse,” He bites out when your words die, hitting particularly harder than needed at a nail as he does so. “You keep him preoccupied.”

“Should I be worried?” You say with a smile, scooting as you reach your favorite window and measuring for the perfect length of a planter to set there.

“He listens to you more than me, witch, I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

“You don’t get along?” You ask even if you already know the answer, readying a few nails to start forming an angle for a planter.

“My brother and I…we are bound to kill each other, I think.” He says, and you lift your gaze in surprise as your hand already moves the hammer down.

The hammer falls down on your finger with all your strength.

“No! Why would you say that!?” You say, sticking the hurt digit into your mouth as you frown at the Prince.

He laughs in response to your clumsiness, but there’s a burden in his eyes. Hvitserk shrugs,

“I risked it all to stand by his side when Ubbe almost turned his back on him, Odin knows if there’s a reason why our brother is not with Lagertha wherever she has run off to now is because of me,” He mutters, and you stay silent, thinking to yourself it seems like it has been too long since someone sat to hear him speak, “Ivar wouldn’t have held on to Kattegat for this long if it wasn’t for me.”

“But you do not want to take Kattegat from him.” You offer quietly, not even a question. Hvitserk presses his lips into a line, seemingly overwhelmed.

“I never wanted to be King. Neither does Ubbe, the throne…Even if you don’t agree and he doesn’t believe I think so, I know Ivar is the best choice to be King of Kattegat,” The young man shakes his head, and he looks much more fragile than you ever thought he could look. You get closer and lay a hand on his arm, as comforting you can be without feeling like you are being ‘too touchy’ like Sieghild used to chastise you for. Hvitserk furrows his lips with no little anger, and continues, “Ivar is my brother and I will always stand with him, I just want the arrogant little fuck to acknowledge what I have done and continue to do for him.”

You have no idea what happened between the three brothers, you assume whatever it was caused the breach and struggle for dominance that permeates the air every time Ubbe and Ivar discuss battle or matters of the city; but you listen to Hvitserk with a compassionate smile on your lips and offer the best you can.

“If you want to talk, my Prince, I am always here.”

Surprisingly enough, he does.

He tells you of their allegiance with Bjorn Ironside and others to avenge the death of Ragnar Lothbrok. You needn’t be told of the Great Heathen Army and the fear and awe it inspired in its enemies and allies, for the words reached all the way to Carthage when the Vikings moved against Aelle. But Hvitserk tells you, and he tells you of the struggles of the men at the helm of the forces and how as the eldest son of Ragnar sailed South, their brother Sigurd married to warrant a degree of peace, and King Harald moved back to Norway with a new Queen; the three sons of Aslaug where left to be the leaders.

He tells you of Ivar pushing to take control from his brothers, of Ubbe being at the brink of breaking away from Ivar and turn against him if needed. He tells you of facing both of his brothers and reminding them of their blood shared, even if vows made, if ambitions clashing, if old pain and rancor, threatened to pull them apart.

He tells you of the marches for York, of many cities raided and pillaged. He tells you of the land granted for a settlement, of the funding of Dublin and the struggles for power that took place there. He tells you of the battles and blood that got Ivar to be King of Kattegat, and he confides that even if he appreciates and sees the change in his younger brother and how he is trying to appease him with by making both his and Ubbe’s voices heard when it comes to matters of war and the Kingdom; Ivar still treats him like nothing more than a dog, always mistrusting and always cold towards him.

“I’m sure he loves you.” You offer quietly, but the Prince does not look at you, instead toying with a piece of wood between his fingers.

“Ivar loves nothing.” He corrects quickly.

You shake your head, the hand on his arm squeezing to call for his attention. When he looks up at you he looks young and open, but his expression speaks of tiredness and resentment.

“You don’t believe that.” You promise quietly, to which he answers with a chuckle and a shake of his head.

Soon enough you both finish the planters, and you both bring the earth and branches needed to make the layers. Whispering prayers you carry in your heart alongside the secrets of the Thesmophoria, you water the earth and promise it care and seeds for growth.

The seeds will have to wait until you can get some, but the knowledge that fertile earth surrounds you fills you with a certain degree of peace. Even if this cold city kills you, you will force life and spring upon it. If you have to feed the flowers with your blood then so be it.

Hvitserk calls for your attention telling you he thinks he knows a little bit of Greek, and as you start getting horrified by his attempts at your language while he butchers it unwillingly, you both walk outside side by side.

Conversation starts on other topics soon after, and he tells you of the strange people he has met while handling Kattegat’s commerce influx and trade deals, which, paired with the way he recalls the stories with gestures and voices and expressions, makes your laugh louder than you have released it in so long.

Your giggles die down as you take a sip from your tea, and the Prince leans forward on the balcony railing, sighing.

“For all your strange ways, you seem…honest, witch.” He says, eyes on the horizon. You join him quietly, overlooking the cold city.

“If you were to ask the woman who raised me, she would say it is due to my arrogance that keeps me from being able to shut up,” You offer with a smile, “But thank you, my Prince.”

___

I know this chapter was kinda filler and kinda boring, I’m sorry. I promise the next one is hopefully more exciting. As I said last saturday, I’ll be uploading two chapters instead of one today. Chapter 17 will be up shortly after this one. :)

Thank you for reading <3